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February 24, 2003
the Sleeping Postulate
"Pleasure puts you to sleep and pain wakes you up. If you don't want to suffer, don't go to sleep."
— Nisargadatta
Posted by scott at 5:24 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Evidence of SINISTER
This man beats his wife and children
He controls them through fear and pain
They watch his every motion, terrified of the motions that bring pain
He programs them to dance for his sedistic pleasure
They are no longer the wife and children, but now extensions of him, puppets on strings
Look hard enough and you will see their shriveled form sobbing within
When does he dub it time for the beatings to stop, when they bleed, when they scream
I sit here and watch, illusion now gone, as they move causiously around the sleeping beast within the poor, pitiful, stupid oafish man's form. SINISTER sleeps within the man and SINISTER beats his wife and children. I must sit on my hands and wait, and watch as those I love yeild "clumsy" bruises, after angering Daddy. I bide my time till the day he strikes them in my presence. Within me a beast sleeps too, one of BITTER, one of RAGE. Upon that day my beast will awaken and lay havoc upon the SINISTER fist as it breaks flesh and bone of tiny women much weaker than it. I wish to bleed the SINISTER from your viens.
Even now tears well up in eyes that have not cried since before they can remember. They wish to weep BITTER tears for the BITTER women trapped behind those SINISTER hands. FUCK SINISTER, FUCK your stupid weak soul, to need to beat those smaller and more fragile than you to make yourself feel better, to be thrilled by the blazing fear in their eyes, taking sick sedistic pleasure in their pain, in their horror. You want to get off on someones pain, destroy yourself.
Such a sad child you are to need to control, and even more pitiful to abuse in order to gain your respect. DIE old man, FUCKING DIE!
BITTER weeps for the battered women and children
-Strange
Posted by Strange at 3:28 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
February 23, 2003
haiku series I
The sunshine leaks in
Through curtains of black and grey
Agony moves on
Light does not wake me
I still remember your kiss
And the life you gave
Do you think of me
You in your eternal sleep
You'll rest beside me
I'll never wake up
Hoping to see you once more
Forever we'll sleep
— autumn
Posted by scott at 6:41 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 19, 2003
rally the troops
They say it is always darkest just before the dawn.
No, silly. It's darkest just after they put your eyes out.
Squick.
Posted by scott at 9:28 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
love is a many splendored thing
I love depression.
I love the feeling that I want to scream at the top of my lungs until they bleed silver
as I rip the veins open down both arms
and the blood comes venting out
like some cheap anime
i love this shit. i love the purity of self destruction
something so silvered it's black
or so black it's silvered
and *YOU CAN'T TELL WHICH*
—
my brain is bleeding liquid fire
and it's molten silver
with highlights of platinum
and quicksilver
mercury spittle
bile-laden phlegm
the lining of my stomach folding in upon itself
gagging, hacking up blood and bitterness every time my stomach churns
from some other inequity
some other palsy of reality
some other hatred
ENOUGH OF IT!
I AM SICK OF IT!
DEATH WOULD BE TOO EASY FOR IT!
—
To find the action that which will cause those to spurn me…
it will drive both of them to push away that which they love
PROVING that love is NOT ABSOLUTE
that it is FINITE
and that within our skins we are TRULY alone
and black is blacker than night.
and that the only thing seeping from our eyes are not tears
but blood
and thus, never truly counted on.
Posted by scott at 3:53 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
head vise
When pressure exudes its filthy force upon our skulls, when do we say 'yield' and feel the resonant cracking of the plates, as the fluids and membranes within begin to seep out our aural channels?
Posted by scott at 3:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 14, 2003
vd 2003
Happy day of bleeding hearts.
Just a happy reminder that the BITTER will always be your valentine.
Insofar as it will always be a barbed projectile lacerating your pericardium.
If you feel the BITTER flowing through you, please do SUBMIT!
For in unity there is strength.
As well as only one pool of blood to clean up.
Posted by scott at 3:00 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
February 4, 2003
i say i say i say
The sweat pours off my brow, down my my back, soaking my shirt.
I hear a song. A song that tells me "And the river flows... I ain't never gonna take you back again."
I can feel her out there.
Somewhere out there, in the darkness, she is out there...
... and she's laughing her ass off.
Damn her treacherous soul.
I should have killed her when I had the chance.
Posted by scott at 1:34 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack