| abstract | - I am your darkest hour I am your fall from power I am the voice you dread and I'm Screaming out inside your head I am the final count I am your demons out I am the worst demise I'm gonna cut your words down to size What is this? I hear you shout Face to face I'm gonna take you out chorus One on One Bring it on One on One Take me on I am the awful truth I am the fearless youth I am the cross to bear And the one who dares to return your stare I am the fist of God I am the underdog I'll always stand my ground While the others scatter all around Against all odds Despite it all I'm at my best when I'm against the wall chorus I am the bloodstained past at last That's finally caught up with you like The glint of steel from out of the dark the last Thing you will feel - I'm outgunned, I'm out Run, I'm undead and then I found the skin You shed - I am the questions asked That send shivers down your back So I am holding out And I'm much stronger now So take me on chorus I am the darkest night I am the vipers strike I'll see you all consumed As you start to lick Your mortal wounds Like the condemned man Who just won't die I'll show no remorse I'll never walk away chorus
- One on One is the 5th episode of Season 1 on FOX teen soap Beverly Hills, 90210.
- No pain, all feign. One hurts to pretend one hurts. One considers alternative methods of lowering tolerance. No, poking one's own eye is something no one wants to do How does one end up in this position? Take a one hundred sided dice and bet one'll not see a one, and have the stakes being one's closed eye. One'll roll a one. One open eye is all it takes to see beauty die Everyone dislikes one who feels no pain. It makes one think one does not feel anything It hurt to see that one. The kind of thing that might be called a half How does one end up in this position? Take a one hundred word book and bet one'll not see one word of it, and have the stakes being one's whole. No one'll read one word. Half an eye is all it takes to see beauty once One's writing reflects one's self / Did Shakespeare kill the king of Scotland? / No / Did Shakespeare want to kill the king of Scotland? / One cannot know the privvy of a dead one / One's writing reflects some of one's writing / One mustn't be so specific. One'll never learn to deal with the unknown if one does not extrapolate / One mustn't falter from truth. There's enough to deduce without induction / Always right, always wrong-- One must understand the strict methods by which perfection is attained. One does not accept individually, for one must hope to be of the greatest one can be, not the greatest one's self can be. For that, one must bear punishment upon one's equals in vain hope of mutual growth. One strikes without emotion, and receives without emotion. When one feels emotion in the act, one hides into refuge. One'll run until the air can't keep up, nor the stars' light. One'll collapse, and in that moment of feeling pain, one'll feel all the light one has run from for so long beating down upon one's one open eye, blood shot from the pain one had once pretended at, though which eventually one was pretending to pretend One mustn't continue so. One mustn't watch. One must strike One is struck. Crawl away from height thought prior, equality does not rise. The superior that must watch for the inferior. One finds safety in phone boothes. Not warm enough to attract vermin. There's only one number one might wish to call: One one one one one one one. One ring, never another One shouldn't strike half stated, even if one's strike is not to be refuted / Where does one find one's one? / One should not admit such forgiveness so bluntly / One should admit all that is true / Self contradiction is the only proof of what isn't true, truth isn't something to be admitted / One should admit one's self to where one is offered that which one requires / One should not esteem so highly / One should / When one seeks refuge from vermin, one finds one's self to be the vermin sought. One might find one's one where one would find one's self when one has faltered in knowing one's self. One's arrest always nears. Have a good one Where does it end? One road trailing by the dash for hours. One lazy driver and one demoralized passenger. This is the part that no one ever makes a stand at. There's something about hand cuffs that makes one tame. One will end the ride, and end up in a white room, one's self also painted white. Another one will enter, also painted white One should understand one's self as one / A sum of one? / No. A whole of one / What of halves? / When one views one's self equal to a half, one often strays / But one may stray straight / One crook along a line is all that is required to change the line from straight to crooked / What of halves? / Permissible, under proper procedure / This is the proper procedure given the circumstances. This is only a procedure of the sort which is not proper for the whole span of its duration. Thus, given one to be at this point, one's query of halves is answered permissible / Proper procedure requires an understanding to be understood / Is it understood what circumstances caused this understanding be required understood? / Risks do not permit / Then risk is admitted? / In so far as risk aligns with the statistical average / Then risk is admitted to be of a high statistical average throughout a populace, but not suiting to decriminalization? / Quit free verse / Infectious styles cause a loss of minmax cause an over reliance on heuristics cause Markov chains cause general non sense throughout a populace / It's late, one's mind should not stray into long verse at such an hour / Zeroth person suits where one shouldn't / Stop this butchering of words / Imperative? / False respect is punishable / Threat? / One should not prod one's risk / What of the transcript? / It has been read / Might it be plead that one's red eye is the source of this most recent case of insanity? / It might, were there a lack of inquiries into halves / One should not inquire It's nice to pretend sometimes that one is a one. Even now, the habit strikes. One might play along, or perhaps one won't. Then one meets one who believes it more than one's self. One who does not only think, but proves it without shame. To read free verse writing is rather rare. Most often such is found in those who cannot even muster the mental endurance to memorize a proper collection of verses, and the free verse of such is why free verse is so oft avoided. Even now, trained efforts are only able to dabble with the disdained indirection one might flee from if anything other than chance allows. Even then, only in thought How much do pens cost? / One dollar / How much does relish cost? / One dollar / How much does this cost? / This is a dollar store, everything costs one dollar / A sum is equal to its parts, how might relish and pens cost two dollars individually, but one dollar together? / One should not make use of a tooth pick so much as to pick their tooth off / One's wit is one's charm / Dry wit / Pardon? / One becomes so used to being talked of rather than to / Interrogative / A rather restricted form; it hardly functions for what little use it serves; namely, asking the price of a dollar / The interrogative is a form of risks, it requires concise verse to maintain proper feedback / One would hope explicit use of diction's verse would remain implicit / One should not verse so freely in transactions of business, it risks consequence / The inevitable is not a risk, nor, perhaps, a consequence One usually continues on in such rare engagements: Out of sight, out of mind. Time is patient for the inevitable, however, and the inevitable is that someone will not make mere bluff. Such improbable results are propable enough that punishment warns on the first, strikes on the second; struck One's culmination of the improbable is what makes one so different. Every quirk one portrays is some control exerted upon one by some past contingent which one was afflicted by. To be a free individual, one must prove one's self sturdier than chance would allow. A nonconformist is a slave, making any choice but the right one. The nonconformist laughs at Braess's paradox, hoping to except acceptance of a fundamental fault. Thank false wit for the benefit found in the ruin of the cooperation of others Does one hear one's self? / No / One's self is the loudest drone against the chaos of whim / One's self is unheard when one is deaf / To be deaf of chaos is to be dead / To be dead is to show no sign of life, not to lack life / One mustn't view metaphor with one's eyes / Once plucked, one hasn't eyes for which one might view metaphor so / One must see one's self / Indeed one must, more so when one has lost stake and now bear their shut eye bound open. Open to the paradoxes, the vain glory, the pride / Pride is the manner by which one maintains a proper back / Pride is the manner by which one may never find love for something greater than one's self / Such a love is better a hate / It was agreed to not inquire / There is still the truth, even if no inquiry has been made to its pursuit / Questions are pervasively implicit, one is best silent of unasked topics. One asks when unknown, answers when knowing. On topics where questions are not to be asked, one should neither ask nor answer One finds one's self passing through rehabilitation rather often, the punishment never rising beyond dry banter. Somehow that is enough to tame one for a time. Perhaps for all time, were one not released parched, yearning only to be rekindled since passing through rehabilitation. One need only walk awhile to find a payphone. One one one one one one one. The number one dialed is not in service. Press one to be put on hold-- or hang up and go home Home, alone as one. A one room apartment with blank canvas walls. One would usually paint their walls in one's own style. When one is first irked by the constant calling to push forwards in creativity, one might retaliate by refusing. This has been accounted for. Since no one else refuses, the refutation is labeled as minimalism and rejoiced as an original line of thought. Foiled once, it calls to counter. One is forced to realize that one cannot denounce individualism alone. One might consider aspiring to create a piece of skill, so to inspire imitations. This consideration is flawed, as one is unlikely to be well bestowed with skill, and one would be required to find one of equal skill and no inspiration. Inspiration sprouts skill. Someone who is inspired creates their own style, alone. With every decision there are more, hence why everyone can find some unique configuration. Hence one settles on minimalism: To have every creation be as simple to imitate as possible. Apartments are received walled with blank canvas. Anyone can leave blank canvas blank Home, alone as one. A one room apartment with blank canvas walls. One of only two such apartments. Such a low ratio instinctively causes one to feel an endearment, to want to consider two one by definition of one being the collection of things ununique between each other. But that instinct must be suppressed by the desire for more to follow, to branch away from the paradigm of social interaction being competition for a niche to a paradigm of social interaction being a collaboration for an ideal. The ideal is obvious, concretely taught. A tangible aspiration, rather than the intangible mess of rights to freedom. One's freedom is a mean, not an end. Freedom is not a right to declare one right, but to prove one wrong The universe is the root object, yet one is taught that on subject is which life occurs. One is never taught where the line crosses from objective to subjective. One's thought is instilled, somehow, that the objective only occurs in environments of the most minute and the most humongous; perhaps one is the very line that is the cross. The line is subjective, both sides are objective. One is not taught of this line, as one is not taught of one's self: only that one must always search for it. The minimalist solution solves; by looking at the universe objectively, to cast away the subjective line of one's self, leaves nothing to search for. The universe must be looked upon as the whole it is, not the part it is not One assumes that freedom is woven into the universe, but such is only woven into the subject. To each their own thread of freedom, some refraction of the truth. The objectivist view is the only absolutist view without contradiction, and so to view the universe as a subject is to view the universe as a relativist. To an absolutist, threads of freedom are opaque dead ends to the truth. To the relativist, threads of freedom are reflective mirrors to the truth; reflecting upon one another into an infinite maze An infinite maze, walking down one lonely road, searching for another's home. When two are declared not to meet, the city conspires to twist every line straight away. One gets lost after finally losing intention. One sun rises, only one diner is open at one o'clock. Already, there is one inside Everyone is enjoying this choice select cookie dough to create their own cookies / Most would say milk and vinegar is foul, but one might not / Ford's scheme had someone work to make every individual piece of one car / Together now, one last time / A chorus in unison is many being one / Mass anarchy is many being one / One plus one is one / Two / One product one is one / Line everyone up row by row. A grid of individuals marching down the line / There's only one way to eat an Eggo waffle-- one's own way. How does one Eggo? / Defrost Defrost. The eyes were shut after that. Still one stares with one's open eye. The eyes opened, and did not close. Four pupils, each one watching for two. A vinegar soaked waffle was tossed aside, and an order for two defrosted waffles made Is one lonely? / To not be alone? / To not even have one's self / One should not assert a property due to a lack of what is required to carry that property Eyes trace along the waffles' grids. A lowering of the chin, the neck rotating to maintain eye contact How many answer defrost? / One isn't lonely being two / One isn't lonely being three / One's lonely being restricted access to another. Would one deliver a letter? / Yes What of the writing? / It seemed airy, but never for too long / And the hand writing? / Why should one be so concerned of what one thinks of one's work? / Without another, there is no one to write for. No one should do for others for one's self What of the writing? / It seemed rather sharp, striking long with numerous semi colons / And the hand writing? / Why should one be so concerned of what one thinks of one's work? / Without another, there's no one to write for; no one should do for others for one's self / The same questions, the same answer / Great minds think alike It was stated that one would not inquire / There was no inquiry / Only disobedience / When one views everyone the same, there are no heights too high, and there are no depths too low. No one is island / No one is the same / Yet in all this propaganda for one, there comes implications that no one is greater than another; save for the halves / Some are more equal than others / That isn't the solution to every problem that's its own problem / But it is to this one. Gödel proved that inperfection is mathematical law. If people were consistent, they would not be complete. One must be complete to experiment. One should consider one's self before others. Given a movement which calls for the rejection of identity, can there be a leader? Perhaps as supervisor, but the leader cannot then be a part of the movement / The culture runs itself. If there appears to be a leader, even solely by virtue of founding, it might exist only temporarily as a boot strapping process. Hofstadter's strange loops may be strange, but Escher drew them normally, beginning from a start only to end without. The system completes itself, and then becomes consistent / But that implies that the system is not complete enough to initiate itself / A thing need not be capable of creating itself so long as it exists. If in becoming consistent the system becomes incomplete, it will still be complete enough / How complete must the system be before one might eject one's self for its consistency? / Complete enough so that the ejection would not cause an election. What causes one's lack of proper verse? / A supervisor might serve to be the paradox, but if one is a paradox then it irks to see paradox elsewhere. To find a movement where one's paradox is consistent piques one's interest. By minimizing the cardinality of who one is, rather than maximizing it, the flaws are decentralized. It leaves no weakness in the chain / What of halves? / Permissible. There's a corruption stirring, enjoining the enjoyment of being joined. With desires such as these in one's wake, one can't bear to further hinder that which proves itself regardless From bottom to top, the sense of community is within every one. Friends find common ground; the network continues to grow. Any collective will find the bane of democracy's lowest common denominator, but discontent breeds comradeship to succeed against the innane. To accept that there is a right answer, only unknown, allows collection in a system fostering positive feedback, rather than having to prove right against an inherently negative feedback. Perfection is the fuel of this perpetual motion machine, no one else I love you / I love you too
- One on One is the fifth novel published by Tabitha King, and the fourth to take place in the town of Nodd's Ridge, Maine. The book was released in 1993.
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