17 songs
~the old school
machine head – “my misery (demon knight)” – to understand vindication amongst the unrepentant.
metallica – “trapped under ice” – caught beneath the affliction casting oneself as the hypocrite.
megadeth – “diadems” – watch out for conformity reaching deeper than your soul’s control.
sepultura – “policia” – watch out for the ones that watch your back because they will eat you up.
acid bath – “dr. suess is dead” – dark, sardonic riffing enlightening the brightest gloss and glamor.
~the middle ground
the melvins – “teet” – why suck? ‘udder’ incompetence.
primus – “is it luck” – the swirling captive that the ear appears to be.
~the new school
rage against the machine – “know your enemy” – seeing inside the self to realize the painful attempt.
static x – “permanence” – looking for revolution at many ends that even history forgets to see.
coal chamber – …
Doctor Thompson was an American icon of the excessive nature life had lying in the wings of furious conservative blasphemy, and still is to a great extent real as such…His first book catapulted me into his creative essences that became the ‘gonzo’ realm where he originated the slurring of terms with these contrasting ideals of economic repose…The swine grew fat as he criticized their behavior and followed their political intrusions into the social climate of the day…A person such as this genius will never die truly, and few conservative dicks will ever realize this ideal…Grow fat and die, consumer…
Subtle severed nerves separating
Motion of souls won’t pass
All action wasted by control
Life bleeding from every pore
Like starfish limbs regenerating
Wild breeds the chaos need
Overgrown by ordered standards
Righteous are our wills and powers
Like weeds receding to the cutter
Defying all previous desires
Outcome not too far away
Understanding it distinctly
Takes far too long today
To be useful to oneself
Has to be a greater cause
Entering a surer awareness
Revealing the truth of feeling
Entirely and without ulterior motive
Carefully we ascend the walls
Onwards to certain glories
No beliefs in failure to guide
Swearing allegiance to one side
Undermining our own ways
Maturing ones unfit for masses
Into a new field of visions
Now we are truly alive
Gearing up for the end
Attacking sense of reason, doubt and fear
Like an alarm blaring to be heard
Like all senses need a wake-up call
Only to stimulate crisis under stress
For the sake of nothing but order
Making the time we have short
Accepting …
nerves at the peak of some fringe sensitivity…the dead flesh sat in my mouth for some amount of time before I gave it up…no screaming and no complaints for such a simple loss of blood and energy…a wound that has never happened quite like that before until today…severed the frightened feeling with the chunk of skin and nerve…no one noticed until far after the fact came and went…the bloody tip still hot and pulsing tries to warn me of the impending dangers of mistreatment, but the pressure remains to blot out the cries in pain…emotional pain is so much more sincere, but physical pain is direct and there unlike the ephemeral emotions…
a medieval scenario built upon lies and deception between royal authorities and the instigators within their ranks. a bizarre melding of primitive myth and modern emotional fire as the fairy tale warps around and around again.
a place unlike any other. in the face of such adversities as sobriety and the lack thereof, a man travels inside his own mind only to find that he is not the same person that he went in as, but there is no hint of a way back.
“Do what you want as long as it’s paying off for you. But once it’s become a liability, then something is wrong and you better find out what it is.”
~Anton LaVey; representative of modern Satanism, and contemporary philosopher.
you’re late…again…when will your monotonous reign end there…the natives are restless to have a new way of looking at you…their stares reinforce the status quota that holds the mass mind in sway, enthralled with the promises accrued with fame and power alike, and yet conform or die had never caught on as a slogan for you…in that slight imperceptible gap between adulthood, and the symptoms of childhood that are so common among the rest of us…with you there is no dividing line, no matter how thin, but the definitions bloom like blossoms in the rays of enthusiastic nostalgia…the hat gives away the urge to defy…the drunkenness of the late last night was heavily still ringing in-between those vital ears…asleep for the five hours that remained…refusal to awake at that sixth hour, but a shower occurred somewhere within the next …
Critical thinking and analysis of my own experiences involving many seemingly disparate elements from gang stalking and years’ long harassment to earlier experiences and explorations of the etheric have all come to a head, in the way of a unified theory as to how/why these things have been happening to me.
When things in life don’t add up it’s necessary to take a step back, thus expanding the logical realm of one’s perspective to allow for connecting the seemingly unconnected bits. Though it took me a while to link the growing frequency and mass of gang stalking attacks to the demonic fields/transdimensional entities, now that I have found the connective tissue I am awakening and nothing beats that. Worth all the leaps of faith and mingling fears on the way there. Quality will always beat quantity.
Anyway, on the verge of …
so my choices are understandably contradictory to those others that graciously share “good times” with each other, and I stare into those eyes without fear, hesitating only when I see the enthusiasm for the time away from the daily practiced smirk. I stand alone to observe no rites or ritual of social self-abasement, but my actions make the silent thoughts almost unbearable. I do not stand against anything particularly special, but social relationships sometimes don’t feel as though they are worth the folly of mirth. in those first instances of special, maybe, but what I have never heard of is a valid description of the letdown from social interactions. maybe in song format, but never described like this now. where the individuals clash in awkward constraints, each posed in thought over some conflicting issue, and there the silence …
