Friday, July 24, 2015
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
2014 - Feelings on January 1..
Winters of madness upon us all. Dying people screeching such
utterly awful words that fix themselves using the blunt words of fate... These
words dance upon the ugly stars and vomit on the school children causing riots
of unsettled gloom. I saw everything. I know the brightness and the
unbrightness of it all. The brightness is seldom swallowed with great vanity
and lies in the minds of people who seldom fit the caricature of the average
"Misfit" or "drugger."
Everything that I had ever laid my eyes upon has become so
fucking useless. Scared to creep streets at dawn and sleep at night! Filthy
animals lay there wisdom teeth with "tenured positions" at
universities that preach the hatred and insanity that this world has truly
become... And for me! To watch my young
and starving children be washed away from disastrous herds of magic that creep
the skies. The magic is polluted and cause the fresh thick air to gape the
scent of blood and everything oh so natural and pollute it with
"magic."
Yapping conman promise to solidify that fixation of the mind
that is startled and blanketed in the depths of a timeless warp. Shut tight.
Locked. Guarded. Unbreakable. The promise that their formula will bring in
peace and utter sincerity from the creatures from this swooping air crooning
and magical, Oh! Oh glory has taken its craning structure and raped it! It has
raped it! Glory is the unneeded and (so faggish) a fucking stupid stage the
human mind chooses to use. Fuck it!
Magical school children ostracize their own faith choosing
to fuck the school nurse. The ostracization of the faggot come from within the
cold stones that come so everlasting in
their gauged mind and gallop and land like no others before them. And their grandfathers
were faggots and so were they! Oh! So
lovely! These school children go and go and go. Laugh. Sing. Play.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck the holy lands of guilt that lie upon us with wavering
flags. Fuck the narcotics that consume our daily lives. The heroin to my sword
and the lust of my thought! Fuck the thoughts that are burned at stake from
their "Superiors" to the faggots that remove bliss speculations that
last in the society of the reeking suburban perimeter. Fuck the walls that
stretch without meaning that expand themselves so high like the cock of a horny
priest willing to fuck anything in his sight...
including his own bastard son who has for so long ridden himself from
the dumps of the inattentive Jesus who is "holy" enough to let him be
fucked in the ass by his own father. Fuck the ideas of middle class who just
love to bring in fucking miserable solitude out of their own tilting
inclination of reaping locution that is grappled so easily. And fuck the rest
of the world. Deep inside the core of the middle class lies the prostitutes of
humanity who fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and
fuck and fuck and fuck every fucking thing! Fuck the whorey homes in the unsubtle
America. These homes that just fucking sit there wasting their own fucking life
and then others. With meaningless lessons about wars and Shakespeare.... In a
class full of talentless mind numbing whoring children who sit there waiting
there for their equally retarded teacher. The teacher stands there with semen
of his face for having commit awfully treacherous homosexual acts on the
Shakespeare book of which he had not
read. Fuck the vegetarians that comment and swarm in like the bullets of
muskets and rape and rape and rape the whole fucking earth. Earth.... The
guardian of the normal thinking and normal minded whore.......
Music can be heard in the street corners of the swooping
broom stick of the farmer of the dead....
Music comes from everywhere! And oh how I would want to
seize every second of the magical sounds being heard from the streets of the
dusky American cities that wrap their fucking dead in goddamn present boxes and
celebrate the death with old harmonies sung by choruses of enslaved children...
The dead have been magnificently cured from the pain and
sorrow that is brought on with the extraction of life from a womb.
Jazzy tunes are heard from the street corners of winos.
These tunes don't come from harmonious sounds of saxophones and horns... rather
the sight of a wino fucking an underaged school child who is ever so enjoying
of his sight. Please stop... Oh Jesus you animal!
The endlessly hiding (faggoty) army general awaits his
commands for the war against the Germans. Such a hero. So brave. So
intelligent. Whip the Germans with the guns men! Once the war has begun he
hides shamelessly into his broken down covert known as his fractured and closed
mind...
Inside his hall he find a young teenage boy who cries about
the ruins of a new awakening. The General awaits him with a hug. He slowly
removes the boys underwear and stokes his erect penis with glory in his eyes. Owwwwwwww!
The boys eyes water with tears of forsaken cumulative joy.
Deep down the watery (and utterly useless if I may say)
soils of a man lies his soul. And in his soul lies the feeling- the sheer
thought almost a gloomy wave that is not said about, that he is meant to be
here for something. Some great underlying Oh! So noble cause like he is the one
who is to be the some sort of ecstasy filled profit who will shine his
greatness on this noble world. But none of that is ever held in the high lights
of a ritual.
The
terrible revolving truth about man is that the fucker always finds a way to try
to make himself special as if he is different than somebody else. As if he is
somehow a bundle of ecstasy in a dark clouded universe- but in fact he is not
anything- in fact he is nothing .He is not shit. Shit is something. Shit in
this world is the excrement of this world. Shit is everywhere. Shit is the
universities that are constantly filled with happy and determined children.
Shit is the communities located in and out of the America. Shit are the long
and mind numbed instructors who ferociously mimic refinement which has been
learned only through their morals of pure evil... Shit is the suffering of poor
and forgotten children who are forced to deal with the harshness of an
undeveloped monstrous world. We are not apes or monkeys, no we are fucking
monsters. Before the Romans, the Greeks, the Aztecs was the ultimate doom of
mankind, evil. and it buried deep deep into the root of our souls. Shit is something.
Shit is the fertilization, it serves a vital purpose and it has a deep
attachment to our world. Shit starts a new beginning in the core of our earth. Humans are a fucking plague, we are a goddamn
epidemic. We are not fucking shit. We serve no fucking purpose. We are useless.
We have done nothing but soil this earth and we will continue to do so for
until we fucking run out. When our population has run out this earth will have
been soiled to the core and rot in the most insincere way possible. We are not shit! In fact we don't fertilize
anything. We just take away and we never give back. When the sustained
infectious life of this planet has ended. Our carcasses will rest among
everything more valuable and meaningful than us. Among the shit. We are the
defecation of shit. We are nothing but the pure bred acts of the evil fruits.
These fruits should've never fallen.
Preaching intellectual insects crawl with meaningless
neglect for everybody and everything around them. Jazz can be heard from
utopian eras of sheer and utter madness. The neglect of the inevitable and
fucking death of the goddamn universe makes everything so fucking useless...
Why? The question that has held the very powerful solitude of questions that
even the quickest of magicians have not been able to answer. No hustle. No nothing. Everything is so
perfect when it is dead. When it is fucking gone. Nothing is able to touch it.
It rests among the shiniest of the objects. Among greater things than stars and
planets. Where the penises of the severed deities lay and rest their very souls
in the horizontals of fate. But fate is a fucking asshole. It's a severed whore
that initiates regurgitates valleys of ovum and upchuck and wombs of aborted
children! Inside this, this, fucking harry asshole is the valley of the
carcasses of the free.. the peaceful and the fucked. In the end the fucked are
the ones who live on wholeheartedly and without blur. Jazz is sung on graves
with chemicals that are detached to the limbs of ordinary citizens fighting for
the right of the bitching pit of grace. And grace is the fucking struggle of it
all! Such a confusing whore who ambiguously eats its own fucking children and
fucks the infected. With horns that shoot laser beamed vaults at mind quenching
people limitlessly- extinguish the past present and future. This bastard known
as nature. No fuck nature- it's not bastard it's a bitch. Like a whore! A dog
that licks up the penetrated functioning fluid from its leader which is the
unknown .
Gases of whipped and inattentive bodies rot in the sheer
utter schizophrenic perpetual sensibility lies in the minds of incomprehensible
fate... Hoards of jazz and funk and drugs and sex and prostitution. These are
the ghosts that are celebrated with awe... of burning wombs of the warriors of
the arithmetical sight of fuck. And when fuck is seen fuck cannot be escaped.
Fuck is everywhere. Fuck opens if chambers of darkness and varied doom to
throwaway the minds of everybody who lies in the scope of its possession. Fear
and blood can be smelled.... but it cannot be felt. To truly feel- to take in something, there mustn't be
filters around you, but ahhhh. Filters cannot be avoided. Filters are associated
with almost everything and anything that it can see from the limits of jazz
played from negroes to the words said from a politician. Filters are
everywhere, and they're very very very dangerous.
Faka chooo cheee! Screeches from the demons that lie beneath
us and breathe on us every second and every minute of our lives. Crawling into
our sleep and consuming our minds. To think that these things are real is
insane, but in fact they're real. The demon cannot be avoid. For the pure rape
of the human mind can only be reeled in by the whip of the demon. The demon sees the ugly baby from the flight
of the hills that rest there so naturally like the whipping drops of blood from
a whip from a perplexing hunter. The demon is not to blame for the annihilation
of the children. No, why it would be asinine to even think of blaming the
fucked demon! To blame, are the masking unprepossessing retching puppets who feed their children to a
world where the only society's left are the ones full of the lifeless.
Buried barriers beneath the core of the psyche lies the man
that we truly want to believe exists. Take the superiority effect as an example
of how the human mind works. Strip a man of everything (and everyone in his
life), and put him into a room full of people he does not belong with. Put him
into a room of supermen with very visible intelligence. Now make these supermen
do the same activities as the normal man. Make these very supermen follow the
normal man as precise as they can. These supermen will never be able to
substitute their qualities and follow such a wonted pattern. While these men
will not be able to follow the normal man's routine, the thoughts of ascendancy
will rise into the normal mans mind because the supermen are not competent to
follow such hackneyed activities. What the normal man lacks is a mind capable of recession towards his own
abilities. The normal mans mind lacks the deep deficit it takes to criticize
his own understanding.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)