The Warrior's Way





I am the Warrior.





When you see me, I will, most likely, not be attired formally. I will
be encased in my steel. It will be dirty, bloody, and battered. I do
not have a quick tongue or eloquent speech. I know nothing of the
manners of the King's court, or the etiquette of the formal ball.





I am known by many names. Tank. Meatshield. Fighter. Brawler. Corpse.





I am the Warrior.




I have not the capability, nor the inclination, to hide. I cannot
strike from stealth with devastating blows, then fade into the
darkness. I cannot incinerate a foe from twenty paces away. I cannot
deal death from a distance, safe from the return attacks of my enemy.
In order to kill, I must close with the enemy. I see his eyes. I smell
his breath. I taste his fear. And he tastes mine.




I cannot bend Nature to do my bidding. I cannot tap into the Nether
and force it to do what I command. I cannot study the arcane and master
it to my control. I command naught but my mind, my body, and my will.
It is by those, and those alone, that I stand or fall.




My sole companion is my weapon. I must care for it better than any
hunter has ever cared for his beast. I must master it more than any
warlock has ever mastered his demon. Without me, it is useless. Without
it, I am nothing.




I cannot heal well. I cannot shield many. I cannot do more than is
wont for my warrior's duty. I call to the spirits of my ancestors in
the heat of battle, and they are silent beside me. My true ability to
protect is to offer myself, my blood and bone and sinew, as a
sacrifice. To draw the attacks of our foes. To take the blows that
would kill a lesser being, and continue to fight on.




I cannot kill with speed and grace, suddenness and shock, or
flamboyance and power. When I kill, it is a slow business. Slow and
bloody for all concerned, myself included. I fight on, pummeled and
battered so that my companions may receive the benefits of the kill. If
I die and they yet live, it is an expected sacrifice.




I come in all races, all sizes. I fight under a thousand flags, on
a million battlefields, ever ready to answer that call to battle, the
call for help.




Few do answer the call. Fewer still survive. It is a long and hard
road, this way of the Warrior. Along it lies pain and fear and death.
Scant rewards and scanter pleasure. At the end, for most, is an
anonymous grave on some windblown battlefield and the memory of those
they fought for. If they are lucky.




And yet, I fight on. I do not even know why. Perhaps for glory,
perhaps for fame, perhaps for money, perhaps for my clan, perhaps for
my young. Perhaps it is simply all I know how to do. But fight I will.
Whether it is appreciated or not. Whether it is noticed it or not. I
will be out there, on the battle lines. Fighting. Killing. Dying.





I am the Warrior.





Death is my business.





Be it yours...or mine.





I am the Warrior.





Knowing I move in by morning and leave at night, I am humbled each day, by each sunrise and sunset.




It is only fear that I fear. With the blood of my ancestors flowing
through my heart, I press on, ever in their footsteps. I seek the worst
the planes have to offer, knowing my weapon offers a legacy to those
that follow in our path.




If we should meet on an open battlefield, would that I should be
slain with haste, for it is the blood of battle that makes me stronger,
the cries of fallen warriors that enrages me. Should a swift death be
granted, you have spared your life and made those to come after me all
the stronger.




My armor is not shiny or polished and my weapons are not cleaned. I
should kneel before kings and nobles, for it is not my matter to mingle
in the politics of such affairs or speak with great words. My honor, my
courage serve me well and are cast before my companions to protect
those who can entertain such grandeur.




I am rarely fortunate enough to escape the sting of my foes
weapons, and it is this that has made me master my own and raise them
in defiance.





Should our weapons cross, and our wills collide, may the better warrior win.





I am the Warrior.

Is actually turning out to be not that bad anymore. It's sucking less. Yay for less sucking! Wait....


*badump pshh!*

So today I turned 20. Happy fucking birthday. This was, without a doubt, one of the shittiest birthdays that I have ever had. All I did was fucking sit around and get shit from everyone.


Happy Goddamn birthday.

                                     My American Dream

     You're off being a good little soldier, fighting for "Good old" Uncle Sam; I want to kill him for taking you away from me. Stars and Stripes run through your veins pumped by your Purple Heart. Your once warm eyes now stare coldly, as if you were staring down that final enemy.

    I once said that I wanted you home in the worst way, I didn't know I would be getting my wish so soon. Your dream was to fight for your country; I didn't want to take that away. Now it seems someone already has. You promised that we would be together forever, now it seems I have to help keep that promise.

I'll see you soon...

As I sit here with nothing to do, I think of you. I sit here wondering how much longer I have to wait until I’m with you again. You make my heart leap, and my stomach turn in knots.

Every moment with you is never long enough, I long for your touch ; your lips pressed against mine with such passion, that my very soul is enraptured in your embrace.

I long for your warm embrace, for your lips, your thighs, your breasts, for every inch of you. I wish to please you, love you, taste you...
to be encapsulated by your beauty...

But then, I look, and see you with him. I see you long for his touch, his warm embrace, and become encapsulated by the passion of his kiss, and I wonder....
How much longer will I wait?

Okay, as I'm sure some of you know, I work at a call center that takes the calls for Taco Bell Customer Service. If you call here, here's a list of things to keep in mind:

1) No matter how mad you are, don't take it out on me. I didn't make your food, I wasn't rude to you. Be nice to me, don't insult me or curse at me. If you do, I can hang up on you.

2) If you wanna call to make a prank, at least get to the prank without cracking up and laughing like a buffoon. I cannot tell you how many times some idiot has called us with a "funny" prank that just ends up being him laughing before he even gets a word out. Btw, we hang up on pranks, too.

3) Keep your reciept if you plan to call us. If you don't get a receipt, find out what the zip code for the store, or the city it's in. I need to find the store. If you don't have that information, I can't find the store, and that means I can't do a thing about your complaint.

4) Don't ramble, for the love of God....my calls are timed. Please get to the point.

5) If you have more than one issue with a store, get them all out in the beginning...don't give me one complaint, and then just give me 50 other complaints about the store after I take down your information.

6) I don't care how much money you spend at Taco Bell, or how much you make. I'm willing to help you out with your issues, but it really doesn't affect me when you make threats to tell all your friends not to go to Taco Bell. It has no effect on my job...if my job loses the Taco Bell account, there are plenty more that I can switch to. You're really wasting your breath.

7) You don't have to give us personal information if you don't want to, but if you decide to give us your information, don't just give your address and not your phone number. That's so damn retarded. Oh yea, I can send over mean letters, send you over something possibly worse than that, but I can't call you! Oh woe is me! We use your informaton for our system, and it does not get sold. Your information stays within the Taco Bell corporation, and no... we're no going to send you a bunch of bullshit, either. If you do file a complaint with us, the most you'll get from us is a letter apologizing, and some coupons if you get promised coupons.

8) If you gve us your phone number, AREA CODE FIRST!

9) If you have an issue with a store, don't be afraid to call us. We'll gladly take down your complaint, but remember: We are human, so please be nice. can't tell you how many times some asshole or some bitch has ruined my day.

10) The Taco Bell policy states that the employees are not required to wear gloves, but they are required to constantly wash and sanitize their hands. The reason for this being that restaurants that always use gloves have a lot of "glove abuse" which would be something like, an employee wearing the same gloves all day, touching contaminated surfaces, then touching the food. It happens more than you think. There are only two exceptions to this: 1) if an employee cuts his finger, he'll put on a blue bandaid, and wear a glove over that, and 2) if the health department in the area mandates it. If you ask an employee to wash his hands, they have to do it, btw. You can also call us and ask if Taco Bell's in your state are mandated to wear gloves. We have a list.

11) If you're giving us any information, don't speed through it, be clear, and for the love of God, spell out complicated street names.

12) Compliments about good service are appreciated too. We do take those too, ya know.

13) Use common sense! If a store looks dirty, don't eat from there! Call us, report it as soon as you can! If your food looks funky, tell the manager! Don't eat it. To put it simply, think before you act.

14) If your name is long and/or difficult sounding, please spell it out for us (If you give your info)

15) When you call, don't immediately ask to speak to a manager. We're all just gonna say the same thing, anyway. We're gonna tell you how we're qualified to take down your complaint, and we'd be more than happy to assist you.

16) If you want nutrition information because of an allergy, if your a vegetarian, or if you just plain want a healthier option (Yes, they exist at Taco Bell) you can call us and we'll tell you everything, down to ingredients if you ask for it.

17) I cannot stress this enough: Telling me the order number doesn't do a damn thing.

18) I don't care if you're rascist...I don't wanna hear it! Keep it to yourself.

19) Don't talk too slow. I might just shoot myself from boredom.

20) It doesn't matter if the employee is gay. You won't turn gay if he prepares your food. It doesn't work like that. On another note, not all people that work at Taco Bell that happen to be hispanic are Mexican. If they're speaking spanish, that does not mean that they are illegal aliens.


The overall idea is this: Be nice to me, because I'm only trying to help you out. Work with me, not against me. 
I ain't bitter...:D

Though you still breathe, the person I loved is gone; killed by this thing that you've become. My love for you is gone; replaced by the grief of this great loss.

I loved you.

You were supposed to be there for me....

Through thick and thin.

I hate what you've become.

Fuck you.

I hope you realize that though I grieve your loss, I will always remember you how you were; Not how you are.

May God have mercy on you, because I don't.

I ask you to help me up from this ledge I hang from.

You stare at me as if I were lower than shit.

You spit in my face and kick me off...

Leaving me falling to my demise.