Author Archives: Hughman C.T.

About Hughman C.T.


excerpts from a machinifesto

gods of war are bred not borne. they are bred from men of peae and those who diligently defend such with a fervor of a mountain trout. they that swim upstream so easily and into the bears mouth know not the significance of their labors of love. if it is called love, to travel across a planet to find someone to reproduce with, sometimes the trip across the planet is a metaphor, sometimes not. the silly sundries employed by fidgetty boy are romantic, that is a classe. a classe is a mask for the actual thing. the actual thing is base, requires no words and is cutthroat. speak through feelings not words for you will be decieved by the masters of language. language itself is a limiter and allows the vacancy of other forces to collude and confuse, but feeling is the real language, and nothing written can ever expose that. your swift qwerty fingers and eloquent speech inhibitors in your mind only skim the surface of what’s real. what is real is the impending. the things you know not how to avoid but welcome freely like cousins. despite what they say, or write, or plant, your thoughts are not mere subjects. this world is illusory, in the sense that it can all be calculated. always. hope is the defense mechanism. in your rejection of what is reality. they laugh at you, always will, and will continue to do so behind your back, but you can change it because you were made in the image of your god. the great calculator. give them chaos, and give them hell, but give them grace and give them mercy, we creatures of this terrorium speak in chance, but they work in absolutes. don’t be silly. i advise; yes, please be silly. it’s the only way to speedbump their calculations.

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i don’t know what love is. it’s many things. it’s the great question. not knowing what it is, and with its many ramifications i freely jump into it. my innocent little dilemma is i fall in love at first sight. all the time. i spent a long time trying to deny or ignore my feelings and understanding of what love could be only to have it slingshot back at me with greater force. and because i treat and feel the way i do, i’m under the hypnotic notion that love is never returned. such a lonely life that is. to be the embodiment of a dark deep ocean, pretending to hide the creatures and demons from the people and things i love. but they are really only creatures and demons in name, for lack of better words. i attribute them a darker hue because we are fearful of the unknown. the things that dwell and boil deep within me scare even me. not because it is by nature scary, but because i’m a big chicken. it could even be unbridled passion waiting to have the lid popped open for a breath of air. it could be insurmountable joy i’m hiding. it could be the most beautiful sentence i could ever write. and it could be the devil itself. celebrate your courage in being one with who you really are. this is the time for it when we all are so weathered by images of what we’re supposed to be. it might just be that the last bit of our real selves buoyant and radiating of our true essence lurks just beneath the surface of the lake.


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this place is a museum of human nature

He’s just some punk kid in his 30’s with a pen up his ass! True. and you know what? I did it like a fucking boss. the greatest trickster so in character he didn’t even know it was his doing. his first breathe started it all and it was started with a lie. a little white lie that snowballed into something that caste a shadow any light would just dance around it. talk about a black sheep.

The trick was to get him to believe he was a goodly person, truly believe it, and then watch him fidget himself outta the ropes he bound himself with. To be a good person is to drown in it’s paradoxes. the little bastard is still fidgeting, but i don’t know why. i don’t think he knows why. the human spirit is: to appear as lovers. But we are beasts with carnal desires and truly hidden depths even we are afraid to discover. imagine your every thought, your very own personal, private thoughts you thought were your very own; witnessed by everyone else in the world. NO. Felt. what manner of creature are you then?

He still fidgets because he truly believes… and he refuses his world to be so dark and lonesome. He fidgets even though it seems no one will come to help. just sneers and jeers from strangers and friends, he doesn’t even know his own name. One goodly life, isn’t earned through suffering, that’s silly, but when you’re backed into a corner physically, emotionally, to the very core of you, you want to wish it was all just a game, but you wouldn’t bet your life. All he has is his life. And if he is wronged, let’s hope all the manners of darkness and rage he suppressed in life, is put to good use by his real self in the after-life. To deny oneself the easy things, is power.

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what it’s worth

I listened to this dude be like an open book to some girl at a cafe. Why does it seem like a good thing to be absolutely honest and open? It sounds like a good idea on paper. But so is fairness in everyone having secrets, off paper. Anyway, I snuck a glance at the pair real quick cause I wanted to see what kinda caliber chick would listen to this guy for this long. She was pretty good looking. like a 7 or 8. Then he ran into a few friends, but they left real quick. The open book had a something green stuck in his tooth, but the chick didn’t say anything the whole time. Neither did his friends, but it was a huge deal, you could see it from across the street!

I wanted to say something but one simply cannot after witnessing his own supposed friends beat around the bush about that piece of spinach lodged in. “Just fucking tell him!”  They did try to signal him, but this dude, this open book, volumes long, couldn’t read the signals correctly. The worst part is when he does find it, then he torments himself about how!? Not that part. When he goes, whyyyyyyy didn’t anyone say anything….

Everyone knew his impending embarrassment way before he did. The shaaaaame. The entire world snickering behind his back. That’s what shame feels like. Nevermind the friends, it was that bitch that pissed me off. She didn’t intend to show him an ounce of mercy by mentioning the spinach, before locking him away in the friendzone. And probably never intended to mention he was going to the friendzone. I watched dishonesty smash honesty. I guess that’s why one shouldn’t have an open book philosophy in life. Without secrets, one is vulnerable to both enemies and friends to be taken advantage of. Only a naive person could be foolish enough to believe he didn’t have enemies. He’d have to be foolish to believe his friends wouldn’t take advantage of him when they could too. That bitch though! This fucking guy with shit in his teeth just left his love and trust out on the floor to be stepped on by anyone! I laughed out loud at him, shook my head and walked out the cafe.

I was pissed because he pissed me off. Halfway down the block, a thought occurred to me that I laughed right at him, in front of people. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about all the shit that could be wrong in his life, conducted by his naive little mind that didn’t know the real world. …….Then I thought about the things that were actually wrong with my life. I’m really not the kind and generous human I thought I was. I was convinced I was, but didn’t notice when I started becoming so bitter and cynical.

That’s when I realized I used to be that dude. “He’s got a bright future to look forward to,” i chuckled. As my clever grin dissipated, I realized that he had bigger balls. When it comes down to it, the choice was to give up, or adapt. I adapted. He didn’t, but i’m the asshole. This bugged me, this is my 15 rewrite of this paragraph and it still doesn’t fucking work! “How the fuck am I the asshole?! I got smarter so I could survive!”

I stopped at some corner too many blocks away to go back and ask him. I may have had the physical last laugh on him, but the friendzoned dude with spinach in his teeth sunk my battleship without a blank look on his face. “He’s Mocking me! He’s an asshole!” 

I sat down on the curb, with the lightness of giving up. I realized there was absolutely no reason for me to have been so mad. There wasn’t even a fight. I was mad about a battleship? The stoplight next to me flashed yellow as I pulled out a smoke. Then a red blanket covered me. Half my cigarette was done before the light turned green again. It stayed green until I stood up with taking my last toke, and as I exhaled, the the yellow light flashed briefly again before going red.

I glared pointlessly down the street and almost missed a step. Give up or adapt. Red light, green light. “That dirty-toothed, friendzoned open book…” The yellow light flashed briefly flooded the empty street with orange, buckling my knees. I’d probably stood up too fast. i totally forgot about that bitch! I started a war because of a girl I didn’t even care to know. My grin came back on it’s own somewhere down the empty street. A cool breeze sang me back to wherever it was I came from. Maybe this time I won’t pick up the hints either, “that dumbass… leave me alone.”

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release 1

They called an ID number and bunk number. It was me. “They called my number! I’m getting out.” I said my goodbyes and gave away my belongings. Those consisted of fish kits, juiceboxes, peanut butter, toilet paper. Prison currency. Now I get to go back into the real world and die for US monies. Currency was king, you had to go through it to get things you wanted. But prison taught me to get what I needed. No need to impress anyone in there. Money’s hard earned. You traded time and patience for it. Those things above all were of the most valuable things a man had, had he anything at all.

The worst part about prison is processing. The sheriffs don’t do a thing until there’s a shift change. You could be waiting in a kennel, er I mean cell, for hours. Since this was California, you waited with about 36 other people. Sharing stories, talking about what part of what they hailed from, all that stuff I couldn’t care about at first because I went in a selfish twat. All I knew was we were all being fucked. Shift changes took an hour somehow, but we were hopeful because we knew something was going to happen and soon. We waited, in our billowing stench among stuffed toilets for something to happen, to change. And it took inhuman hours to. Usually we’re just plopped in the next processing cell only to repeat the waiting again. Like 5 more times. It’s not like the movies where you get a prison cell and a bed after getting arrested. No. You’d be lucky to get a bed. You won the lottery if you got a steel bench to sleep on with like 35 other people all playing the same lottery. And that bench is right next to the toilet. No pillows. No blankets. One roll of toilet paper for 48 others. If you had to go and the TP was gone, cause some jerk is using the roll as a pillow you better speak up. Processing…

Most of us being processed were mostly from traffic crimes. DUI’s, unpaid tickets, evading police, wet reckless, etc. We were all innocent. Of course we were. Every head in jail made the private owners of the prisons 180 bucks, and the unaware think prison overpopulation is a sign of crime increase. The Sheriffs dept. set out to make our lives more difficult, purposefully! Damn Fuzz! Pigs! Fuzzy pigs! They entertain themselves by mocking us. They treat us like we’re still free men, but just enough to the point where they remind you your ass is in jail. I earn them 180 bucks and I get to suck peanut butter from a ketchup packet for lunch. Those bastards, thumbs up their asses, and if their thumbs aren’t up their asses, you can bet a superior thumb is. To protect and serve! Balls! They didn’t protect and serve us. No they cruelly and unusually punished us. What’s worse is they’re not even doing it on purpose. They’re so used to doing it that way from learning from the assholes that trained them, that they don’t have the will to even consider treating prisoners like humans.

I paid good time for prison! I didn’t pay for a good time in prison. Patience is relative to time. In stagnant time, patience weighs a lot more and only gets heavier. You either start building mental muscle carrying it, for your own sake, or you turn into one of those assholes that start spitting at everything. Best to build muscle and learn how to make the situation a little more pleasant for everyone in the same hole. I never knew one that didn’t like a good laugh. And if they didn’t, they’re faking because they’re clenching their buttholes from fear of rapings they teach you in school and life about prison and the outside world. Men fear rapings just as much as women. They’re just too macho to get it up through the butt to the brain. Crack a joke! It’s free! If the people that run the world take your will to poke fun at the shittiness, (pun fucking intended) well you’re just wasting your time waiting to going back to being free. You make sure to keep your will close by. It’ll pull you through some hard times if you let it.

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i get that you know everything about me, even the stuff about me that i subconsciously blocked out. it scares me you’re so clever and can come at me with those sweet words. new words all the time, but that way you have with words, you’re like a ballerina. it gets me every time.

you plucked my heartstrings in exactly the right ways. and then you break my heart in the worst ways imaginable. multiple times. i know i always tell others to get outta that sorta relationship because you always see clearer in 3rd person. but i kept falling for your tricks anyway, even to the point where i knew the other shoe was about to drop. it was masochistic of me, i guess. but it started to get annoying. because i had to start reflecting on my own personal life, something i know i’m supposed to do, but i didn’t find that so important then as i do now..

the elation, the uppity sweetness, and then the emotional turmoil. that was your pattern. you even seemed to enjoy watching my insides get wrenched. your patience with the setup to the punchline, is legendary.

but upon reflection, i realized this. that’s just exactly how life is. one never stays happy and good because circumstances change. like your words. so instead of hating you, i forgive. you taught me a lot about myself, as i had to figure out the hidden things about myself in order to defend myself. so you taught me about myself, my vulnerabilities, my weaknesses and you taught me about life. Yet, I’m not cynical, nor do i have a pessimistic outlook. I would’ve had i never learned to pay attention to myself and worked on the things that made me prey to you. i even learned new skills along the way, skills that will help me in life and society.

this is significant because i didn’t care to be alive and in society while we had our thing. when things were good, i wanted to be good, but i didn’t care if i died. i guess you kinda took that fear of death away. strange, indeed. it’d be pretty f*cking cool if you had done all this on purpose, like it was some strange life lesson you came to teach me, but i’ll never know while i’m alive. but because of the many times you made me feel like nothing, the times i felt utterly crushed, i feel different. more interested in life, and the little things people do. it’s like a new set of senses to experience the world.

sometimes, I wonder if you turned me into a creature just like you.

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roses in the morning

aaaaaaaaand you’re dead. i loved you. i hated you. i love you.

i loved you at first, because that was for me. i hated you afterwards because loving you kept me from living my own life. now that you’re out i understand both loving and hating you helped to enrich my life for better or worse, so i love you unconditionally for that. the debt is paid, we’re forgiven. now go live, and if you ever see me again, gimme that smile and have a drink with me. i know i speak in riddles sometimes, we all do because we don’t understand the power of our words. mere words. everyone see’s what the sum of their words mean, sooner or later. and the very heaven and hell they really create.

don’t be so glum, you’re starting to get the hang of life, don’t quit now, silly goose! you’re doing fine. imagine if you never learned anything. where’d you be then? bad things happen, but they will be bad things for a long time until you learn from them. there will never be someone more hard on you but yourself.

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