<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:53:08.318+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Passages From The Dead</title><subtitle type='html'>Page after page, i write as i act, my life on a book for all to see. For when i am gone, i shall hope to be immortalized by the words that shall be read from this book of mine...These are the words of the dead...for he exists to no one, yet everyone exists to him and feels he exists to them...Enjoy!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-4689857397506093930</id><published>2008-04-22T16:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T16:16:21.364+01:00</updated><title type='text'>And Then There Was War!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;((Am crazy right now and thought it wise to write something in my crazy and jibberish mood...always helps doesn't it? :) ))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time sadly had finally come.&lt;br /&gt;I had postponed and derailed all paths leading to this last measure but sadly it was here. Long have i stood by and watched all the atrocities, misconduct, and lies committed by these vile beings i had once belonged to. Wondering when they would truly see the light and realize the deviation from their true path. My wait has been for centuries and yet i fear the time for patience and hope has long passed.&lt;br /&gt;The night was young and primed for things to come, yet here i sat atop a castle once owned by a man that was well known for his fights against evil. It seems ironic now that the so called evil chooses such a place for its gathering.&lt;br /&gt;Mother Moon! Its rays pierce through every vapor of my ethereal existence filling me with joy and such power that i dare not move. But as i looked down from the tip of the castle tower i realized i had to leave this beautiful place for greater things. For things long postponed by none but myself as i feared once this was done...there would be no turning back. It was time...time to address the army of darkness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The army...I never thought it would come to this....not in a million years would i have thought of such a possibility but yet there they were...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body effortlessly glided down through the air as my thoughts of the actions i was about to take were streaming through my mind as i get closer to these creatures that awaited my arrival. My feet felt the solid granite-filled ground under it as i reached my destination.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes were still shut as i listened calmly to the whispers, grunts, and cheers of the creatures around me as they awaited my speech. My nostrils breathed in their nauseating smells and burning fragrances that quite honestly had me almost going to tears...but as i leader i dare not. My eyes stayed shut, my mind willing it not to open for chance that i may not have the will to do what i stood here unwilling to do. I felt its rays once more, why is it that she would always give me strength...i was no wolf or vampire that required the night...i walked among the living at whatever time i felt like...so why was the she so giving tonight...i asked no more questions on that matter that night as my strength had doubled as i regained my resolve and slowly but surely i had raised my eyelids to view what stood before me. At first all i could see were a blur of mist filled bodies walking around me which forced me to focus a little harder without any sign of weakness to these creatures. They were all there, the werewolves, vampires, zombies, (your typical facebook game ain't it?), witches of the west and south, dark sorcerers and their minions, followers of lucifer, willie willie, and oddly enough even Micheal Jackson came around (don't ask me why! He was there!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was odd about this gathering was this...WE, the armies of darkness had not gathered here to destroy those which stood for the light. No! We never could, we knew that...and we still keep that in our minds even till today. But that night, we had gathered there oppose all those that felt the need to always disturb all those within Buses, Trains, Cars, and even on the roads with their constant bickering and nagging. Constantly trying to recruit new blood into their folds without being nice enough to ask before blabbing all those prayers and songs and...well noise making. For i have watched it happen countless times, either its in a vehicle, on a ship, on a plane (wierd ain't it?), and worst of all, in the comfort of your own home. They come with bibles and smiles...ranting, screaming, and singing all sorts of things without the consent or approval of those they wish to change or protect. These goes beyond missionary work if you'll call it that, to outright disturbance and yes...WAR!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so we marched into a new night with me at the helm of this war. Leading the vilest of all creatures to do what they normally would not do so as to save that which is norm. For heaven's sake it most stop, at least we evil ones are nice enough to ask before we suck your blood, eat your flesh, or offer you up to the devil...yes we might trick you, but we certainly do not blast you with rants and noise in your house or whenever your trying to rest on a simple trip on a bus. The battle has already begun...i simply felt the need to talk about the gathering. And then the cause...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; TO BE CONTINUED!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-4689857397506093930?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/4689857397506093930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=4689857397506093930&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/4689857397506093930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/4689857397506093930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-then-there-was-war.html' title='And Then There Was War!!'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-6555416396056310464</id><published>2008-02-17T22:05:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T09:25:19.880+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Past...</title><content type='html'>Ah, love is no longer in the air...right? I mean thats what people try to make us believe by having us do everything in our power to make sure that V-day is spent with those we love. That its the day that love is truly in the air. I mean what tha hell happens to the other 364 days of the year now? Do we love no more? Do we care for no one because we have exhausted it all on V-day? And what tha hell happens to those that have no one special? No loved ones to run to on that special day? ARGH!!! Don't mind me...i guess am simply upset. I mean who wouldn't be, lets look at this closely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Val day. A day i frown over as year after year i am reminded on this hectic day that i have no one to love, no one to call my own and her me, no one to cherish, love, and protect, and vice versa. Yeah, Val day just never suited me much, especially since am someone that believes so strongly in love. Amazing isn't it? The dead actually loves! OMG! Yes yes, i do love and wish to be loved. I yearn for it as much or even more than the next man does. Yet i tend to be the insensitive one, the one that most women (sometimes men) wouldn't peg for a romantic. I mean don't get me wrong here. Your never gonna find me reading a romantic novel unless it has some serious evil or dark tone to it. And your definitely never gonna find me cry or get all mushy over some romantic movie, incident, or scene that occurs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then why is it that i yearn for it now more than ever? Have i played the so called 'game' so much that i wish to retire in the bosom of a woman i can call my queen? A companion and confidant. The one i can rely on when all else is ruined. The missing rib that holds my heart together if and when it shatters. I wish for that so much every time this month runs through its course. And every time i am disappointed time and time again. Is my so called 'shell' that protects my heart so hard to crack? Even though through out most of my existence, my heart has always been outside that protective shell being smashed time and time again across that same shell that was to protect it. Yet i am told, coerced, and decieved by myself no less to continue on this now seemingly hopeless adventure in my life to find that one thing that most of us dream to find but never do. Have but haven't realized it, and the very few that...do have and cherish it. Yes during this time, it is you all that i truly envy. For in time, this month will be over and you would all go back to your normal routine knowing that you have someone special always with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While i, will live on. Knowing fully well how empty my life is. Knowing that sooner or later i will forget about this love crap and continue to live my life as i do best. And with all the strength in me, fighting for any means to erase February forever. So that i may never feel like this again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's day past everyone, i hope last month was filled with love for everyone...And hopefully the year will be filled with it as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-6555416396056310464?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/6555416396056310464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=6555416396056310464&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/6555416396056310464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/6555416396056310464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2008/02/valentines-past.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Past...'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-5818104457220078612</id><published>2008-02-03T16:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T16:55:07.733+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dare i possess again?</title><content type='html'>This is a tale of the unseen, unsavory and immoral. This is a tale of a possession long done for I stand now with the lady that perished during that possession not so long ago. And I simply choose to remember that day as I had seen through the eyes of you humans…you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;living beings&lt;/span&gt;…what its like to be human once more. And I do say I was not impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened about a month ago, when I had finally learnt the art of possession and was no longer flying through buildings and cars watching from afar. But watching and acting, using the bodies of these unsuspecting humans to watch and learn. And if deemed worthy, to act in order to stop those that seem…well in this case…immoral. I had never experienced a possession quite like this one since I had decided to possess the human while he was fast asleep as it seemed a lot easier with his mind in a passive and somewhat weakened state. Needless to say that I was completely wrong about that, granted I was able to possess the body, but the mind was in a dream state. And I caught a glimpse of the dream that I would honestly classify as a nightmare except there was a hint of longing within the mind before it retreated. He was cuffed to a well decorated bed wearing nothing and in front of him were three beautiful ladies each holding a pistol, an axe, and a knife. Sufficed to say, I wasn’t about to find out what was about to happen as I immediately cleared away all of it and awoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His phone had been ringing and the silly human didn’t even know it. I answered the phone and listened as his father rambled on about an emergency case that needed the ambulance there for movement. The human had argued about the need for an actual driver as this was interrupting a much needed rest for work the next day but still agreed to help out. I was amused at how considering this was an emergency the human felt the need to wash his face with soap, spray some deodorant on, try three different outfits on, and even grab something to eat before heading out for the clinic. Who was he planning to impress? Who was he planning to see considering it was 3am in the morning? And why did he keep checking the fuel gauge of the…It had become obvious then that the ambulance was low on fuel and where ever this case needed to be taken to might not even make it let alone the human returning back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clinic was nothing like any clinic i had ever seen before...and i had seen plenty. It was more of a hospital than a clinic as there were two large one-story buildings beyond the gate that was wide open with far too many cars and ambulances parked at the parking lot. The neon sign read ‘Rivon Clinic’ and kept on flashing erratically as I watched it. As the human got to the gate the passage into the building on our left was blocked by an exhausted young black male that lay dead on the ground screaming for the return of his wife. This was no &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'fight for survival&lt;/span&gt;' journey, this person was dead, and why did they want this human here? Someone we both recognized as his father had stepped out of the second building, his white overflowing coat flying in the air as he headed towards the man on the ground. He was an old man with no trace of black hair on his head yet he still had so much energy flowing through him and a jovial aura about him. He began begging the man to leave the road so that the ambulance could pass and carry the body but the man was unreachable as he kept screaming to the father, to the guard that had just emerged and also to God for not telling him that something like this would happen…why God needed to inform him of such things I had no idea but either ways he was carried off by both the father and the guard to a more secluded area. As they dropped him on the ground he resumed his posture on the ground once more and continued screaming more things that I didn’t care for. I had been more interested in who had just passed away as I was not sensing the presence of any ghosts or otherwise around the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ambulance had been carefully stationed right next to the building and as the human emerged from it, his father began detailing what had happened as they carted the body out of the building on a gurney into the ambulance. From what I had gathered it, the lady that had been brought in had just recently passed away, the sad part wasn’t the fact that the couple were newly weds or that she was three months pregnant when she had passed away. No! The sad part was that the cause of her death was something that could have been easily handled at any clinic or hospital that had the common sense to know that she was simply convulsing and not a reaction or cause of anything to do with the dialysis of her kidneys. She was wrongly diagnosed by a hospital in another state and was shipped down here. Now because of that she laid on a gurney, covered in white, her family weeping and screaming, calling for her to come back…but she couldn't…for she was gone…I knew this because as they wept I could finally see her ethereal existence finally taking its shape. She was dead and gone, and there was nothing her family could do about it. I watched as the baby that was still being formed simply lighted up and slowly dimmed out into nonexistence…where the baby had gone to I am yet to figure out…but there is a place beyond where we stay...a place i do not care for...well...not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride to the mortuary was a ride of solitude and contemplation for the human as he constantly kept looking back at the dead body that lay silent on the gurney wondering how he would feel if this had happened to him. Feeling the pain of the male that still lay on the ground weeping when we left realising that they hadn't been married up to a year and yet now they stood seperated...by death. The doctor that went with him just kept on smiling through out the ride as though there was nothing behind the ambulance. For some reason it felt better for him to not think about it and simply focus on other matters. When they had finally arrived at the mortuary escorted by the company’s police escort the female body was carted out once more but this time into the lounge within the mortuary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lounge was well decorated with elegant gurneys as its couch and a medical receptacle as the stools where the usual refreshments would be kept. Except in this case there were knives and assorted medical instruments for who knows what. As the lady’s essence slowly floated in with the body and glided to a stop next to the other bodies within the lounge. I wondered if there was any need for me to leave this body and console her, but there was more to see and I had preferred seeing and feeling through this body. The mortician was a slightly rude and odd fellow who had kept on insisting that the body be examined before anything can be spoken about. He had taken his time unveiling the body, pausing to feel on just about every inch of her body. And as he slowly felt on her face, her breasts and went passed the belly which was quite large for a three month old lady, the human had still been staring at the breasts of the female that interestingly enough at the time seemed ready to explode. And as he stared at the breast I noticed the mortician staring just below the belly, and the essence of the lady brimming with anger and rage as all this happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was time to act, and act I had done. I had immediately taken control of the body and slapped the mortician before screaming at the police for simply watching this man fondle with this body. As i sensed his approach i had punched the mortician in the belly and kicked his groin twice feeling a slight crack as the feet of the human slammed into it As he fell screaming i had yelled at the doctor to get into the car so that we could leave. The police seemed surprised at the series of events that had just unfolded and kept staring at the mortician waiting for him to make a move. As I got into the ambulance I immediately started it, quickly dispossessed the human and headed back to the mortuary and prayed the lady had not began diving down towards the dark path because of all this…for if she had...those who were still there would most assuredly have joined us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm…that was a long time ago, and needless to say the lady is fine as I stand with her now staring down at the humans who come and go, who live and die, those same humans who…well honestly, am starting to care little for as time goes by. But I hope that one of these days, I will find someone that might make me think better of them…So far it hasn’t happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for all those who wish to get something out of this…there really isn't anything to get. I carried a dead body to the mortuary, I saw what I saw, I am not happy, end of story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-5818104457220078612?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/5818104457220078612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=5818104457220078612&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/5818104457220078612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/5818104457220078612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2008/02/dare-i-possess-again.html' title='Dare i possess again?'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-7653536765773644924</id><published>2008-01-08T10:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T10:28:12.087+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Minutes...</title><content type='html'>Oh my, what a terrible start to the new year this has been. Well before we get into that i just wanted to do my late holiday greetings and what not so i hope everyone had a merry christmas and of course i wish you all a very happy new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry...thats pretty much all am going to say on that. Some might want to shoot me, some might be glad am back, and very few have already beaten me to a pulp for not doing anything for such a long time(happy carl!). It honestly ain't my fault. And this just me saying am sorta back and will sorta tell tales of the past so as to bring you back to the present time ....and maybe just maybe...look into the future of things to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically, my car drowned, my phone got wrecked, i bought a new pc, my life is in a transformation stage, i had an interesting experience in the village, and port harcourt had one hell of an explosive fireworks stage on new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Details on all things dead...soon. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you all around...smile now people....am back damn it.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-7653536765773644924?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/7653536765773644924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=7653536765773644924&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/7653536765773644924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/7653536765773644924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2008/01/five-minutes.html' title='Five Minutes...'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-5916020208961315273</id><published>2007-11-20T10:58:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T16:05:44.577+01:00</updated><title type='text'>And Then There Was War!!</title><content type='html'>((Am crazy right now and thought it wise to write something in my crazy and jibberish mood...always helps doesn't it? :) ))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time sadly had finally come.&lt;br /&gt;I had postponed and derailed all paths leading to this last measure but sadly it was here. Long have i stood by and watched all the atrocities, misconduct, and lies committed by these vile beings i had once belonged to. Wondering when they would truly see the light and realize the deviation from their true path. My wait has been for centuries and yet i fear the time for patience and hope has long passed.&lt;br /&gt;The night was young and primed for things to come, yet here i sat atop a castle once owned by a man that was well known for his fights against evil. It seems ironic now that the so called evil chooses such a place for its gathering.&lt;br /&gt;Mother Moon! Its rays pierce through every vapor of my ethereal existence filling me with joy and such power that i dare not move. But as i looked down from the tip of the castle tower i realized i had to leave this beautiful place for greater things. For things long postponed by none but myself as i feared once this was done...there would be no turning back. It was time...time to address the army of darkness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The army...I never thought it would come to this....not in a million years would i have thought of such a possibility but yet there they were...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body effortlessly glided down through the air as my thoughts of the actions i was about to take were streaming through my mind as i get closer to these creatures that awaited my arrival. My feet felt the solid granite-filled ground under it as i reached my destination.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes were still shut as i listened calmly to the whispers, grunts, and cheers of the creatures around me as they awaited my speech. My nostrils breathed in their nauseating smells and burning fragrances that quite honestly had me almost going to tears...but as i leader i dare not. My eyes stayed shut, my mind willing it not to open for chance that i may not have the will to do what i stood here unwilling to do. I felt its rays once more, why is it that she would always give me strength...i was no wolf or vampire that required the night...i walked among the living at whatever time i felt like...so why was the she so giving tonight...i asked no more questions on that matter that night as my strength had doubled as i regained my resolve and slowly but surely i had raised my eyelids to view what stood before me. At first all i could see were a blur of mist filled bodies walking around me which forced me to focus a little harder without any sign of weakness to these creatures. They were all there, the werewolves, vampires, zombies, (your typical facebook game ain't it?), witches of the west and south, dark sorcerers and their minions, followers of lucifer, willie willie, and oddly enough even Micheal Jackson came around (don't ask me why! He was there!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was odd about this gathering was this...WE, the armies of darkness had not gathered here to destroy those which stood for the light. No! We never could, we knew that...and we still keep that in our minds even till today. But that night, we had gathered there oppose all those that felt the need to always disturb all those within Buses, Trains, Cars, and even on the roads with their constant bickering and nagging. Constantly trying to recruit new blood into their folds without being nice enough to ask before blabbing all those prayers and songs and...well noise making. For i have watched it happen countless times, either its in a vehicle, on a ship, on a plane (wierd ain't it?), and worst of all, in the comfort of your own home. They come with bibles and smiles...ranting, screaming, and singing all sorts of things without the consent or approval of those they wish to change or protect. These goes beyond missionary work if you'll call it that, to outright disturbance and yes...WAR!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so we marched into a new night with me at the helm of this war. Leading the vilest of all creatures to do what they normally would not do so as to save that which is norm. For heaven's sake it most stop, at least we evil ones are nice enough to ask before we suck your blood, eat your flesh, or offer you up to the devil...yes we might trick you, but we certainly do not blast you with rants and noise in your house or whenever your trying to rest on a simple trip on a bus. The battle has already begun...i simply felt the need to talk about the gathering. And then the cause...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TO BE CONTINUED!&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-5916020208961315273?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/5916020208961315273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=5916020208961315273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/5916020208961315273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/5916020208961315273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-then-there-was-war.html' title='And Then There Was War!!'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-8990261671382875191</id><published>2007-09-12T21:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T06:21:43.082+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dead Returns</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This should be an interesting way to announce my return from inactivity. :) No proof reading so just enjoy the damn thing. Am going with the flow...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW!&lt;br /&gt;I made it back. Its been so long, i feel like i actually need to reconnect with you beautiful living creatures of nature once more. But i'll just walk around you all like i always do, with none of you knowing am actually there. Watching you all go about your merry and devious businesses, never stopping to ask yourselves if anyone is actually watching. If by chance some mystical being unknown to you or the people around you...will some day judge you for these actions. It has always being said that there are things that we cannot explain in our lives. Things that go even way beyond that which is paranormal, i for one was once an unbeliever in such stories...But now...well i am dead and yet i am still here aren't i? If i still exist i wonder if there truly is a God? Though i am yet to see him and i coulda sworn he was supposed to have judged me already. But maybe...maybe this is his judgement? Maybe he has left me here to walk with these creatures that i now feel are so wretched in their ways, yet sadly i was one of them. My thoughts begin to trail away as i begin my sad yet on some occassions amusing routine. Where i had been all this time i can't for the life of me remember anymore, it is the way the dead live...and for that i am grateful. I begin phasing in and out of houses as i float through the skies in search of anything to at least give me something to occupy my meaningless, timeless, world...A couple in bed, the man cuffed and gagged, the woman with stilettos and a whip...A man being strangled to death by his own son while he watches as he's wife and his 12 year old daughter are being raped...A young boy accidently realising the joy of rubbing on his own privacy...A priest begging for deliverance from God for all men and woman...A little girl about to steal from her mom's purse...But this one seems to interest me the most, and so i stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile as i watch the little girl steal her first stash from her mom's purse while she's away. I could sense her emotions boarding a roller coaster and preping for the joyous ride to come. And no sooner had they put on the safety bars did the ride begin. Guilt, joy, euphoria, fear, suspicion, they all bump into each other as the ride goes faster and twists, turns, and loops around the track. She hastily stashes the money in her pocket and for a moment attempts to actually pull it back out to return it. My smile is only for a moment...She changes her mind and runs for the door, all these emotions still safely pinned on the ride. I watch as she opens the door to head outside but is paused by the return of her mother. All emotions but one bail out of the ride, how they'll survive i dare not ask. I glare into her soul trying to see which emotion remained so fastened on the ride...it made me smile as it became clearer...i wondered why i even needed to view so deep to see...it was fear. Always so adamant in matters like this. Her eyes were wider than usual, her body was so frozen even her mother could tell something was wrong. She scanned the room trying to figure out what happened that would make her 9 year old daughter so frightened of her. Everything was as it was supposed to be, her dress, make up kit, drawers, lockers, bed, everything were all in the right position. She stared at a her daughter with a combination of suspicion and curiousity. I phased out of the room as i knew the questions would begin shortly. Whatever the outcome in this point in this young child's life would determine her future and her character at that. I dare not intrude on such critical scenes in peoples life...if there was ever a code we beseached, berifed, and debodied creatures followed. This would be a key point in such a code...but alas it does not...and as such i am usually tempted to see everything. And sadly today was that day, as i phased back into the room. I watched as her mother sat on her bed teary eyed wondering what to do with her daughter most likely. For within her hands was a large sum of money...from the looks of it i would say at least 50 large. What she was going to use this to do at such a tender age...i had no idea. The little girl stood rigidly, her eyes fixed at her mother's, her hands choking the life out of her dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile at the sight of all this and realise i had forgotten the beauty that is within the system of nature. For even though they know not that they are being watched, even though they commit such ridiculous things without the need to question themselves regarding it, feeling that they can't be judged if not seen. They usually are, not by those unseen but by those quite visible. By their laws, morals, and government. By all that they hold dear to them, and if by chance that doesn't work...then maybe some day...i'll have to show them what it feels like...to be truly judged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hope you all enjoyed the read...more to come as i do have stories to actually tell regarding whats happening in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-8990261671382875191?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/8990261671382875191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=8990261671382875191&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/8990261671382875191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/8990261671382875191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/09/dead-returns.html' title='The Dead Returns'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-2325658613710109502</id><published>2007-09-02T13:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T23:40:29.329+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ain't Sundays Beautiful...</title><content type='html'>WOW!&lt;br /&gt;Its sunday!&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes...the boring day begins. Its funny how sundays just always have to be boring. I can't get over it, every sunday i am forced to go to church and listen to those precious words from a bible that people like us wrote. Yes! I said it! But anyways, though quite inspiring and all that its just boring to me...i mean i get it. Love, love, love. Oh and those 10 commandents that just so happen to be in every government law system. But anyways, we'll leave that for another day. I find myself always cleaning up my place on this day and today was no no exception...well except for me finding my old poem/rant book that i had 10 years ago. Guess today was fruitful. I went through it amused and the things i had written back then and decided i would at least post 1 or 2 poems (i guess thats what they should be called, was never much of a poet so i never considered them as such). So here is one of them...hope you enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and Unnaked soul...i'll try coming up with something for you on that creation thingy. Though i gotta admit, your really torturing me with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trials Of Space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can always call, she said&lt;br /&gt;Send mails, emails, or even chat online&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't have to end because am not here&lt;br /&gt;My love will always be the same&lt;br /&gt;Untouched, unwavering, and only for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yet when she left&lt;br /&gt;When she hugged, kissed, and said the goodbyes&lt;br /&gt;When i waved, smiled, and watched the plane fly&lt;br /&gt;I knew, i felt it, things just wouldn't be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day was as though she was still with me&lt;br /&gt;The first week was when i felt her physical presence begin to fade&lt;br /&gt;Her smiles, her laughters...&lt;br /&gt;Her frowns, her cries...&lt;br /&gt;The warmth of her body next to mine as we cuddled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first month was when it began&lt;br /&gt;The questions...&lt;br /&gt;The images...&lt;br /&gt;Who was she with when i called her&lt;br /&gt;Who made her laugh while i spoke to her&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't she call the other day&lt;br /&gt;She might be with someone, they wouldn't be good together...or would they?&lt;br /&gt;The love was no longer only for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only i had said NO! firmly&lt;br /&gt;If only i had told her how i truly felt about it&lt;br /&gt;This is not going to work out&lt;br /&gt;Its time i called her again&lt;br /&gt;Its been a whole week already&lt;br /&gt;Time to end this distance love-war&lt;br /&gt;Time to surrender to the questions and images...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yeeaaaahhhh.......what tha hell?! Thank God for growth and experience...:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-2325658613710109502?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/2325658613710109502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=2325658613710109502&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/2325658613710109502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/2325658613710109502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/09/aint-sundays-beautiful.html' title='Ain&apos;t Sundays Beautiful...'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-7822560664537177283</id><published>2007-08-30T01:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T02:03:20.363+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Delayed News Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;You sit calmly on your couch watching your daily portion of 'Life's a beautiful torment' when the screen flickers a bit and is abruptly changed and replaced by a black male decayed zombie that seems apologetic due to his sudden appearance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mike Zombie and this is a breaking delayed news on the current events within from Port Harcourt. We sincerely apologize for the delay but we had a problem within the studio as bodies we were feeding on decided it was time to rebel and actually fight back. Regardless we will be replaying a prerecorded report that was recieved by me from Lisa Corpse...our onscene reporter....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The current image is replaced by prerecorded news feed where mike seems to be wearing a different outfit but is still in top decaying form...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: What exactly is going on over there now Lisa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;A crippled looking female appears before you with no signs of movement but voices seemed to be emanating from somewhere...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: Well things are slightly calming down as a curfew had been instated a few days ago and the streets of port harcourt are filled with soldiers, police officers, and naval officers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: Any reason as to why the curfew was declared?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: Well based on our inside sources it seems that these militants seem to be coming from a close by waterfront and as such the nigerian navy has been sent over there to hold them back. As such the curfew was declared so that when the army pushes them back offshore, the navy can finish them off and make sure they never come back on land. To summarise it, any ships seen around those areas after 7pm are immediately shot down Mike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: Now those are drastic measures, but will they work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: Well it seems they are working but i don't think the border searches and patrols are effective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: What border patrols?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: Well it seems in the major areas of port harcourt and also around the borders of port harcourt. Citizens are asked to keep their hands up and walking by so that they can be searched and checked. If you are in a car you are to leave one hand on your steering wheel and the other hand raised up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The screen is once more replaced by an image taking by one of the news team's photographers...It is quite clear that this was taken in a dangerous situation as the last person that did this got shot and killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RtYQxjWr5SI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rsM8S4BeyIM/s1600-h/Hands+up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RtYQxjWr5SI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rsM8S4BeyIM/s320/Hands+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104285671161062690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;It returns back to Lisa Corpse...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: As you can see it seems quite effective with only one major flaw Mike...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: And what might that be Lisa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: Well they people leave their bags and belongings within the buses or cars they are within before walking out and the cars and buses don't get searched! I mean whats the point of all this then? Exercise? People get that just from waking up around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: Well now that is a lapse within the Nigerian Army...I felt they were quite effective considering they lead a lot of ECOWAS missions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lisa Corpse: Well mike to give them credit, they are not the ones in charge of this. Its actually the police and mopols...so i guess its to be expected. Well thats it for now around here, i hope things are rectified as companies and businesses...especially joints or beer parlors are losing quite a lot of money from this. Back to you Mike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Her face seems to finally move and a smile creeps through it...The feed is interrupted and replaced with the present day Mike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike Zombie: Now that they are, thanks Lisa for your report on the port harcourt crisis...I guess thats it for us here at Dead TV, once again...am Mike Zombie, wishing you all a Goodnight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;The screen returns to normal and you continue watching &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;'Life's a beautiful torment'...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-7822560664537177283?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/7822560664537177283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=7822560664537177283&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/7822560664537177283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/7822560664537177283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/08/delayed-news-report.html' title='Delayed News Report'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RtYQxjWr5SI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rsM8S4BeyIM/s72-c/Hands+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-4419487334588855946</id><published>2007-08-24T20:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T21:45:48.723+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dead Shall Party!!</title><content type='html'>It was an eiry cold night without a soul in sight outside the walls of the mansion. The animals were silent and only coming out to make sure they were still alive. The stars had fled from the skies in search of safer areas. The area was quiet...too quiet...and suddenly, without warning, the hearts of those watching from afar leaps a beat or two as loud music ensues from within the walls of the mansion. Screams of joy, sounds of boots pounding the grounds, hands clapping, and once a while...sounds of people hitting the ground from overdose of alcohol could be heard from within the mansion. No one knew what was going on, and no one dared to find out. The mansion hadn't been  occupied for over a century, and what was even more scary and suspicious was the fact that this same incident had occured about a century ago. No one is alive anymore from the days of the last incident, but it was quite clear that all those that entered the mansion...came out...different...as though dead but still breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now it was happening again but no one was brave enough to enter. Only the dead were there, those that had been there a hundred years ago. Those that had drank away their sorrows and troubles and left their bodies to the vultures, and their souls to the devil himself. They were now within the walls of Dike Dum reliving what was once the great reaping but this time only a few brought more souls to be taken by the Devil. The night was young and the poor living souls hadn't realised what they had gotten themselves into. They were all smiles, enjoying every minute of the night as though it was their last...little did they know, it really was. As their bottles were all but empty their minds began to fill up with images of horrible scenes of seduction, mutilation, and death on the dance floor. But what scared them the most was how the people simply wouldn't die as these things happened. For a long time they stared as these atrocities happened and wondered if they could actually do these things without fear of that. For with all that was in them, they had not realised that such things were humanly impossible but felt the need to try it as their bodies tinged with higher sensations as they viewed the groove on the dance floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only four in number among the dead, but all were now willing and definitely very able. The lady in red was the first one out on the dance floor, sadly this time she would not be the one woeing men to their doom. She had picked a lively looking male that seemed to have all the moves and yet was still able to twist his neck in a 360 motion with his hands literally breaking and points no human dreamed possible. The rest of the four had followed behind her, motivated by her as all men would have been. Sadly she was the first to go as the rest joined different ladies with seemingly different personalities...a shy nerdy girl, a gifted body twister, and a fully loaded model...all with nothing in common except the need to reap the souls of the living to join in their torturous life. There was nothing that wasn't done to these poor living souls as bits and pieces of their bodies were taken from them as they partied their life away. Their bodies were so mutilated that i wish not to go further into this, but one thing was for sure. The lady had passed on first, followed in turn by each of the men. Their minds warped with bottles after bottles of concussions made by the dead left them wanting more of what they couldn't understand was a painfully outstretched death. The party had ended after the dead had had their fill and the devil had come to collect what was now his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one thing was for sure, after the night had come and gone. The residents around the area had come to check on things now that it was safer to come out. People say the four bodies that were found all within a pit close to the dancefloor, had smiles on their faces. Bodies deformed beyond recognition but what little of their faces that lips left...had smiles on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the mind is lost, anything can be believed as long as it says so. Visions of worlds collapsing, people walking on water, and even the believe that pain does not exist. We are wonderful creatures...learn to exercise your minds, creatively and logically. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-4419487334588855946?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/4419487334588855946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=4419487334588855946&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/4419487334588855946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/4419487334588855946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/08/dead-shall-party.html' title='The Dead Shall Party!!'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-2040137023487263810</id><published>2007-08-17T00:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T00:59:42.208+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Survival of the fittest...</title><content type='html'>As i stare at the topic thinking of how best to start this blog, my mind flashes back to a few weeks ago (maybe less) when i was wrecklessly as always. Quickly driving into the front of a trailer dodging a parked car and watching the car behind me smash into the parked car at a speed of 120km/hr. I would know considering i was going slightly faster than that and he was trying to match me. Now the sad yet funny part of this was that i was looking at the accident from my rear view mirror laughing at the fool and wondering what kind of driver would actually pull such a stunt. Though don't judge me so harshly yet, i had a little moment where i was actually feeling bad about it all and wondering if i should stop...but all that kinda died away quickly as the laughter resumed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now am back to the present...staring at the topic once more...and its quite clear how to start...i start from the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny how we say things can never be worse than they already are and yet whenever we say such things...something new happens that makes things even worse than they already are. For those that don't know whats going on in Port Harcourt....please read the previous post. Anyways, today kinda made things clear as to how far these psychos are willing to go as they boldly went against the soldiers that were stationed within the area to protect the civilians. This happened in the early hours of the morning and lasted well into the afternoon. The craziest part of this whole thing is that while this was going on i was busy taking Ayo (a friend of mine that came on business) to the company's office thinking everything was okay. It wasn't long before we started hearing people telling everyone to be careful and not head to town. Of course, after i dropped him off....yeah...i went to town. Not into the firing away but close enough to at least hear the gunshots and bombs going off. Its a crazy world we live in. After the whole battle was done, there were 3 fully loaded big ass trucks taking dead bodies to the cemetery. I was honestly expecting all 3 to be filled with bodies from the militants...but noooo...2 trucks were filled with the soldiers bodies...all dead...while only 1 truck carried the dead bodies of the militants...Yeah, i'd say we are in for some serious problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing about this (theres always a funny side with me people, get used to it) was that the major incharge of the campaign actually told the reporters that this will be lesson for the militants to learn. That they will not think of doing this again...what tha hell!? They lost more men, they had less equipment, i mean they basically had their asses handed to them and he says the militants won't dare try it again?....ONLY IN NIGERIA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now for the sweetest part of this whole thing. Recently it seems that chelsea has been doing much better than my beloved team..MANCHESTER UNITED!!! So it was only fair that something stupid on their side happen. So there i was having fun with Ayo over a couple of bottles, being glad that we are still alive, and from no where a car slams into big block and a lamp post, and also i think a NEPA poll as well. I had to clear my eyes a couple of times thinking maybe the booze had started getting to me...but nooo...it was real...it happened...we start laughing about it and quickly run out to check on things. The guy survived so don't freak out, but as i look around and start taking pictures of the whole scene...i notice something that makes the both of us feel better about MU's recent failures...a chelsea symbol within the car! HA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTjLzWr5PI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Svi3p9grvBk/s1600-h/Chelsea+Dreams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTjLzWr5PI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Svi3p9grvBk/s320/Chelsea+Dreams.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099450469993669874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTjkTWr5QI/AAAAAAAAAAk/HafMuOShQeA/s1600-h/Chelsea+Dreams1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTjkTWr5QI/AAAAAAAAAAk/HafMuOShQeA/s320/Chelsea+Dreams1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099450890900464898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTkMTWr5RI/AAAAAAAAAAs/fBoU_hJUHtk/s1600-h/Chelsea+Dreams6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTkMTWr5RI/AAAAAAAAAAs/fBoU_hJUHtk/s320/Chelsea+Dreams6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099451578095232274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now i wish you all sweet dreams...from your friendly walking dead. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-2040137023487263810?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/2040137023487263810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=2040137023487263810&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/2040137023487263810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/2040137023487263810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/08/survival-of-fittest.html' title='Survival of the fittest...'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_TUI9jz2Fp3k/RsTjLzWr5PI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Svi3p9grvBk/s72-c/Chelsea+Dreams.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8684739637650056465.post-4959365718811284061</id><published>2007-08-13T23:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T00:21:32.784+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The dead speak?!</title><content type='html'>First off, lets get the introductions out of the way. As you all should know by now...the name's Jeff. First of a family of 9 and a proud member of the KIA squad...(More on that in the future). Been around for quite sometime and survived a whole lot...Favorite incident would be the cow accident of 2002 that left me scared for life. Though i must admit...it gives me a new story to tell when in the mist of those that wonder...I live in Nigeria, a nation that is chaotic to say the least but at least boasts of one simple thing...true freedom. Such is to be expected since the country is technically lawless. Yes yes...we have laws, but who obeys them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police are bribed on a daily basis or patrol the roads and streets requesting for money from the citizens. The citizens do everything in their power to make sure they get things done their way and always try to find a way to hussle out of something. The politicians in the government steal the nation's money everytime they can and then turn on each other when one takes or acts more than he is allowed to (if such a thing exists). The shark eats the fishes, the bigger shark eats the regular sharks, and the whales...well you get the point. Taxes are a joke except for large companies, especially oil companies. And most importantly, we all live our lives always trying to make more money and hardly ever thinking of the creativity in anything we do. In such a nation, who would dare say they aren't truly free? Yet its amazing that people like me and all those others that are truly creative, insightful, and gifted in many ways survive and make it through all this to shine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its quite simple really, there is always light where there is darkness. And vice versa. Which is why i always laugh when i hear people talk about a world of peace and goodness only...sorry people...but that will never be. Just as every human is born different in his or her own way, so it is for such things in life. And now that am done ranting...here's a little bit of whats been happening in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been pretty much a week of heavy violence within the city of Port Harcourt. The battle between different militant factions (keep in mind that these militant factions are funded by politicians within the state and have the agendas of the politicians in mind) within the city have poured out into the streets affecting innocent civilians...civilians like me...that was forced to pull a bond driving move so as to avoid stray bullets and other cars also trying to avoid the bullets as well. A reverse 180 in a benz coupe...yeah...am definitely gonna remember that for a while...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the life of a dead man is so exciting...i wonder how the living are doing...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8684739637650056465-4959365718811284061?l=fromddead.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/feeds/4959365718811284061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8684739637650056465&amp;postID=4959365718811284061&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/4959365718811284061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8684739637650056465/posts/default/4959365718811284061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromddead.blogspot.com/2007/08/dead-speak.html' title='The dead speak?!'/><author><name>Jeff Corbin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13855722495051303781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
