Tag: blogging
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A zany and profane ad for a survey on my website (yep, that’s what AI thinks I look like)
What the Caveman Yearning is happening, all you office-bound clickety-clackers who’re clickety-clacking away at some infernal piece of data-sorting BULLSHIT when the urge to doff all civilized life washes through you and inspires you to purse your lips and start aggressively bobbing to an imaginary set of primal drums—DOO-doo doo-doo-doo DOO-doo doo-doo-doo—then gallop around on…
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Off-Kilter
Atriya opened the fridge.Protein shake. Apple. Strawberries.Routine. Routine was control. The shower wouldn’t cooperate.The temperature refused precision. Annoying — but manageable. What wasn’t manageablewas realizing he hadn’t checked his weapons. That wasn’t forgetfulness. That was something else. A soldier can’t afford to drift.
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He Ran From the Thought
He’d seen organs on stone. Heard men scream until their throats tore. Survived training designed to erase weakness. But when the failed candidate stood in front of him,waiting for humiliation — Atriya hesitated. That frightened him. So he ran. He could outrun enemies. Not himself.
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Something Shifted
Atriya had endured brutality his entire career. Pain was instruction. Weakness was corrected. Failure was punished. He had enforced that system without question. Until now. For the first time, something in him resisted. And he couldn’t outrun it. This is where obedience begins to fracture.
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A zany and profane ad for the changes to my website (yep, that’s what AI thinks I look like)
While I’m proud of my accomplishments as an award-winning Man Whore, I’m a low-key dude who—just like the rest of you low-key dudes—enjoys making ape-noises and trying to see if I can use the Force by trying to move the baaaarely out-of-reach remote control using a curled-hand gesture and an intense-ass stare. Yeah, that’s why…
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Atriya Doesn’t Hesitate
He had executed orders without flinching. Watched the insides of men spill across stone. Outlasted torture disguised as training. But standing over a failed candidate… He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t degrade him. That hesitation disturbed him more than blood ever had. The battlefield was never his weakness.
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The One Thing He Couldn’t Do
Atriya had seen men torn open like discarded equipment. He had endured pain that rewired the nervous system. He had completed training most soldiers didn’t survive. None of it shook him. But when he hesitated —when he couldn’t bring himself to humiliate a failed candidate — that’s what unsettled him. And he didn’t understand why.…
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A zany and profane ad for upcoming changes to my website (yep, that’s what AI thinks I look like)
What the swamp-dick is happening, all you neglectful meat-slingers who build up a plethora of cheese and ectoplasm only to loosen the draw-strings on your shorts and cause mass-seizures across half the continent, Bigfoots crawl across the forest ground, begging in their strange, horn-like language with tears matting the fur on both their cheeks, paint…
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When Strength Isn’t Enough
He had always believed the formula was simple. Refuse weakness.Embrace pain.Become unbreakable. It worked. Until it didn’t. Atriya had started noticing something dangerous —a contemplative voice interrupting the discipline. Not fear. Something deeper. And the job was too important for evolution. This is where Atriya’s real transformation begins.
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The First Distraction
Pain made you stronger. That was the rule. Push harder.Train longer.Outlast everyone. Atryia never plateaued.Never broke. He didn’t believe in weakness. Until recently. Something had begun slipping into his thoughts —not doubt… awareness. And he couldn’t afford it. The battlefield isn’t where the real fracture begins.
Kent Wayne 