They all sat there pondering, the couch was full with Charlie and Gomez, and Sandra sat near to Melvin and Grace in the chairs scattered around the room. Those who were the culprits didn’t even know how, let alone a thought as to when, they were going to solve such questions. Jack had been using the electricity without visible stopping point, television and porno blaring, but mostly at a softer volume. Lonny had been playing guitar day and night, and visibly shaking windows with rabid guitar licks all night. The only other two not there to profess in their defense. The only ones who didn’t seem guilty were the kids, but how could they be guilty, they were only kids. As such, they were sent away without any hesitation, and the two of them trudged up the stairs to …
what is this sour taste in my mouth?… I say that it is the preconceived notion of hatred that sullies our relationships with other human beings… who says we have to touch each others genitals in order to get along?… is it some primitive direction that our bodies desire to be felt up?… I seriously don’t care about the flesh as it pertains to being overtly sexual in order to be at all… that is not the only function I hold dear… to me, the greatest thrill is communication of the highest possible efficacy, and that is far superior to merely fucked feelings that can drain the emotional senses if improperly distributed amongst strangers… I may seem prudish or perhaps even a bit weird, but obviously you do not know me at all, you only know the assumptions that …
a serial killer finds his way inside the home of two young boys who are faced with this most dangerous situation.
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 – …
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 …
the crawling things take no relent.
the stirrings of the possessed senses.
the protest of withered hands in function.
the machines take their roles in society.
the cost is too much to deny now.
the motion makes waves appear.
the friends are nowhere now.
the husks remain to play.
the games of discord.
what is the price paid for the creative mind?
seeing past the reflection is simple, whether beast or self, through the raining blood or the hardcore dancing around gunshots that violence creates…in the bank of memories, an “empty space”, or maybe what materialistic culture could deem ‘immortality’ for the conscious persona creates undreamed of jewels of wealth and commodity… a particle that will flux through the rest to the forefront…the layers always follow, though confusion strikes when trying to conceive of start or stop, and at times the confusion would function beyond life or death and to or fro…a solid fist through the wall of sleep…detractors of the dead/alive aware with blackened minds, and tortured remnants of essences eternal…awakened by broken shards, the ones that have fallen from their ledge, and made a path to cut the floor…finding ourselves grounded by these wishes and urges that deepen and …
Thinking negatively can be a detrimental piece to a person’s life….that they would rather be missing…However, living is never so wickedly simple, but indeed, so wickedly complex to find out the necessary answers…How do we affect the reality of what we do with our actions with the raw thoughts and imagination inside our minds?…How do we manifest destiny?…Yet despair follows those actions that aren’t so passionately executed?…Where can I confess my respect for this existence?…Somedays feel more futile than others…Inside of us all beats a pumping organ that will allow passion to be infused in every minute detail of this life…The spirit is what gives life and imagination to our works…Our flesh is the medium to pasting the puzzle all together…The mind is the logical thinking machine that presides over a will to be more than just an organism…All …
