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A hive of thoughts. @gonewiththewind_bot @Paraphernalia_bot
I GAVE YOU MY SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDS OF SKY
BUT WE CAN BARELY SEE THE REFLECTION
WE'LL JUST LIVE TO SEE THE ESSENCE DIE
thank you specter for putting me on to this jem.
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Okay but WHY IN THE FUCK is this game giving me an existential crisis??????????
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Do you wanna feel pain? Takin' my name in vain
Caring never felt so lame inside
Anybody else got pride? Do you wanna take my life?
Maybe I'll reverse my ride
Who the fuck are you? Fuck you!
Better suck it up 'cause you bled through
Better get away from me
Stay the fuck away from me
"for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return,"
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Even if we try
We can't live forever
I gave you my shards of sky
But we can barely see the reflection
We'll just live to see the essence die
Jonas has found a way, once more, to strike my soul with metaphors as poignant as the essence that flows forth from the first flower that flourished after the great flood. Thank you Katatonia. My life is falling apart. A sun of constant despair has dawned upon my emaciated body. My right hand, that once filled a blank page with broken verses, now trembles as it places a doddering cigarette to my desiccated lips. This album lent me a taste of redemption. It is bittersweet. Thank you Katatonia. A Sky Void of Stars, a fucking masterpiece. Heavy with poetry and reeking of distant sentiments that once were my sources of light.
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See my scars
They come from the other half
The drowning god
My words are bouncing off the ground
I see them all around
But your back was turned
My heart had to learn
These years
What a theft
Forty-six now
How many left?
Recall the red sun burning
Over the avenues and into our view
Radiance that signified
Magnified
Divergent hue
I see the last day turning
Straight into emptiness
How did it get so late?
Your little voice in shadow now
Sowing seeds to segregate
Opaline
Saw the trail of the fleeting twin
Through last year's grass
With the curtain closing in a bit
I will go where I see fit
Love me not
For I was never one to pass the test, no
All for the best
You're heading east
If you go now
I go west
I see the last day turning
Straight into emptiness
How did it get so late?
Your little voice in shadow now
Sowing seeds to segregate
Gliding
Weightless
Through the vapour
Off the map and into loss
No more wisdom here to gather
No more boundaries to cross
I see the last day turning
Straight into emptiness
How did it get so late?
Your little voice in shadow now
Sowing seeds to segregate
I had a futile dream
It rose from loving you
But the debt has broken my back
There's no need to retaliate
As your train has left our track
Mariah O'Brien in behind the scenes for Alice In Chains "DIRT" album cover by Rocky Schenck, 1992
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@*#&#* says:
The Once-an-atheist baptist: "The lysis of the inquisitor mind in the absence of a higher faith is inevitable."
The chef who dislikes onions: "Onion is an abomination. All the violence and blackness of this discordant world stemmed out from within the foul smelling layers of the onion."
Literally my bed: "Help. Please help."
The mouse whose tail doesn't exist: "I fucking hate this world mate. A rat without a tail is like a woman without a uterus. A rat without a tail is like a poet with a feather but no ink. *breaks down* GOD IS AN INDIFFERENT ENTITY WHO CREATED A WHOLE WORLD JUST TO ABANDON IT. AND AS THE GERMANS SAY, ICH WILL BLUT! THE BLOOD OF ALL WHO-"
The wise beggar: "Gimme gimme 5, gimme til I thrive. Til i survive. So Ion steal from hive. Til i get me a wife. And If you decide not to give me a five, I shall, with the help of my psychotic friend who happens to be a black magician, fill your bladder with acid that feasts upon the flesh as soon as it touches it. Beware hoe. Gimme 5. Or you die."
The 3 century old tree: "Just shout whenever, and i'll be there. BABY BABY BABY OOOOOOH BABY BABY BABY."
The prophet whose brain is an avid practitioner of self-harm and sodomy: "When your sun is vacant in the celestial planes, have no fear, for i will strike light unto the most desolate of fields.
And until your sun rises again, I'll be there, I'll be there right next to you, radiating light onto the darkest parts of your soul."
The void: *farts really loudly* *silence*
Why? Don't ask me.
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
―
Lolita, Lee Child
My symbol is the death of light and the flame of death. Sparks die in me only to be reborn as thunder and lightning. Darkness itself glows in me.
- Cioran
A game that hasn't been talked about enough
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How you turned your face towards the city lights
And the shadow fell behind
Katatonia's founder, vocalist, and songwriter
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Is it worth downloading? Yes
Will people enjoy it? Most of them won't
This is one of the best solos in the history of rock and roll. Fucking bear it
An unfinished poem begs for a fitting closure
A lytic mind longs for a respite
Two blackened lungs long for a whisper of a northern wind
A dead cigarette longs for another kiss
An artery of mine longs for a rupture
I long for you once more, maiden of earthly delights
At whose arms died so many
You bore holes into their skulls
Until the light burned them all
I am all ashes now
Take me
No poetry anymore
No more music
No sign of life
Just a boy with a gun
Aiming for his little head
Lassitude has me by the fucking arms
My mind is falling apart
The last of my light is sipping out
Of my eyes
Robbing them of their functionality
What more do you need?
What more do you fucking want?
I am done here
Six hundred and sixty six pages have I filled
With poems about
Death
Suicide
Loss
Grief
Toxicity
The sun
Rivalry with shadows
And much
Fucking
More
I communed with underpaid whores
Placed a hangman's noose in my wardrobe
Intoxicated myself with cheap boxes of whiskey
Purchased a small handgun with
A singular bullet
What now?
Why can't I leave, madame?
Six hundred and sixty six pages!
Begging for your call
Why can't you answer?
Jesus fucking christ
Dawn on me
I beg of you
Break my chains
And let my soul
Loose
I want to fly
I want to soar through you
Into the void
I beg of you
A day in the life of a Pseudo-satanic girl
- Wakes up
- Stares at her ceiling and revises the nine satanic statements from the satanic bible
- Does a lustful ritual in the shower.
- Gets in her school uniform and plugs in her earphones
- Rammstein starts playing. She headbangs ever so lightly
- Spends a good amount of time with her christian friends.
- Her econ teacher reminds her of Anton LaVey. Her mind wanders off into the philosophcal land of satanism where it/she meets LaVey
- Comes back home
- Plugs in her earphones
- Metallica starts playing
- She starts headbanging heavily
- Makes 11 sacrifices to the dark lord
- Does 3 more lustful satanic rituals to enthrall her decade old crush
- Does her homeworks listening to Ghostmane and eating strawberries
- Lights a black candle and clads herself in a black attire, then does her last satanic ritual of the day infront of a giant fleece bearing the sigil of baphomet and an altar that was once her grandma's mini table
- Hides the satanic paraphernalia under the bed and greets her mom
- Sleeps while listening to the album Antichrist superstar
Hehe hope no one enjoys my sloppy playing
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