Category: identity

  • The Mortal Burden – Part I: Specicide Blues

    The Mortal Burden – Part I: Specicide Blues

    Read ahead or read behined follow this link to Book I:

    The Mortal Burden – Book 1


    Sammi a blogger on WP brought an important point. I realized I went down a rabbit hole with links and chapters, etc….I will post each part as a blog post with ONE link to Book 1. I found a way to complicate serialization, I hope I learned my lesson.


    Part I: Specicide Blues

    These things rot in my primal brain. They eat through my sanity. It was slow at first, but gradually the plot thickened and I was left with the aftertaste of insanity. I have seen the battle between Gods and monsters, and seen the revelation that the Gods are the real monsters.

    A painful march of death orchestrated by the symphonic hateful metronome of the defiled saints; fodder for those immortal beings.

    Humans are nothing on the battlefield, except for rotting corpses, a welcome mat for oblivion. Their only use is for the advent of fear, and the haste of self-loathing. My only wish is to finally die before the aftermath—a hell not from the fear factories of the gods, but from the true Titans of Ragnarok, those of which have been too blasphemous to speak of throughout history’s slow, bloody march.

    Death now can only be hastened for the few remaining, for I will bring it to them with open arms, and have them greet it with the warmth of friendship. They will slay their foes with a ferocity that no being has or will see for the rest of infinity. I wither in sadness, immortal, vacant of soul, terrified of freedom.

    A festering cloud of disease and rot batters the landscape with its omnipotent sickness, defiling the pure, pristine life-force, decaying it with its stench. The rain, or what should be rain, storms down in a sickly brown torrent upon the earth. Parasites devour the life energy of those creatures within the range of hills. A spell of sickness conjured by an arch-demon of decay.

    The vast armies of decay sow their seeds upon the earth, devouring all life for its wretched abuse.

    This is war. This is oblivion.


    Written ~ 1997, Book 1. © Jacob A. Pickard 2025. All rights reserved. This work is protected by copyright and may not be reproduced, republished, excerpted, or used for academic, commercial, or derivative purposes without written permission

  • The Singular Succession

    The Singular Succession

    For whatever reason these four short scifi stories are interconnected. It was never my intention nor concept, these stories were written at different times in my life; yet they all speak to the philosophy & concepts of reality, creation, chaos, order, and individuality.


    CLUTCH


    ANSWER ME!


    SHIFT


    DESERT SEA


    All works ©️ Jacob Pickard. 1995-2026.

  • My poetry is dead

    To those who pick themselves up in silence, un-noticed, lost, but won’t give up

    I know how it is

    To go through the daily ritual. Unwilling to yeild, but exhausted and tired

      Some of us with partners that are cold and frigid, not giving empathy, affection or love shut themselves off from you, then you shut yourself off
     
    Others, who are single, but with the same fire in your heart, to give it all, but nobody to accept your power and love, you shut yourself off

    You feel deeper, down to the working foundation of others, to touch, express your heat.

    Open nerves, always giving, just wanting that touch, the lips, the pressure, to taste, to experience.



    ©️ Jacob Pickard. 2025.

    1st published on Substack

       

  • Curse

    Curse

    Energy
    Given freely
    Is as breathing
    For me
    Understanding
    Until now, ive had so much of it
    But, frankly
    I
    Am
    Utterly
    Exhausted
    I
    Speak Truth
    I
    Endless hope
    I
    Set
    Boundries
    I
    Don’t give up
    ……Why do I feel guilty?


    Truth
    I
    am
    prey
    Human predators smell empathy
    As
    Sharks smell blood in the water
    Allowing myself to be used
    without equal reciprocity
    Used
    Endless cycle(s) of neglect
    Affection to weapon
    Sex to Weapon
    Shrunk as weapon
    Tool of endless emotional grounding
    Control
    Power
    Stability
    Comfort


    I
    Am
    Tired
    …….So very very tired
    And I’m afraid
    I
    Have
    Changed
    I
    Am
    Broken
    Victim
    Survivor
    Pariah

    Empathy is a curse


    ©️ Jacob Pickard. 2026.

  • Pariah in the company of Phantoms


    I am Pariah

    A life devoid of touch, love, passion, a pillar of rough-hewn granite, to make other’s lives more comfortable so they don’t have to feel guilt. A mirrored avatar to reflect what they want to see; taking responsibility for the cowardly acts of their Phantoms.
    Selfish Ideological Narcissists, making victims that exist in the interstitial spaces, Acceptable losses in the war.
    A living taboo, stigmatized, no one wants to touch this flesh, it is taboo made real.
    Aged masculinty shattered into dull edges, ego ripped out, longtime ideological identity destroyed; the devouring mother’s hunger satiated.

    I no longer want to try to identify with anyone, as anyone, or with any group. All are phantoms.
    The gulf is now infinite. Not your spaces in-between, because nothing exists on either side.
    Playing my part in the background, while the Phantoms roleplay; it’s the curse of total detached awareness & empathy. Pain hidden in the shadows, invisible to all.

    Pariah is my rightful place, I am the sacrificial king: I will let this demon eat my soul.

    ……and I will REVEL in the consumption

    One with the Pariah that haunts the
    interstitial spaces

    the Pariah that whispers to the
    phantoms in your nightmares



    ©️ Jacob A. Pickard. 2025. Originally 

    published on SubStack.

  • Lifetime – Dark Future Philosophical Sci-Fi

                                LIFETIME