blackbeardblood's Journal
[Most Recent Entries]
[Calendar View]
[Friends]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
blackbeardblood's LiveJournal:
[ << Previous 20 ]
| Tuesday, July 18th, 2006 | | 12:55 am |
| | Saturday, March 25th, 2006 | | 2:54 pm |
Dreaming in the opium-dens (Going to hell): made simple and abbreviated
(Keep in mind Nick has no affiliation with any religious institution.) Rick and I start on the top-floor of a very large parking garage and make our way down 80 stories or so on an elevator where we get off and walk by foot; as we go down the cement floor and walls turn to the inner-workings of flesh and vein until there is a hole in the ground in which we go into and slide into a large coliseum-type indoor arena. There is a deep bellowing of unhumanly pain echoing in the air to the 500 foot cieling above, in which chains are rolled on a pulley to lift a metal gate locking us in. The noise is coming from a 500 pound or so bald black male chained behind bars such as an animal who strips his flesh and eats it, then pukes it up to repeat the process. The gate he had been concealed behind is lifted and Rick and I scatter as the man runs rapidly towards us, growling, vomitting blood increasing in size on all fours slowly taking the form of a black panther of 30 feet in length or so with the stature of a high-shouldered bull. He grows a third eye and has a long forked tongue as Rick dashes behind a fallen gate where the beast has him cornered against the stone walls. There is a torch (this part seems a bit like Jurassic Park to me) on a wall where the round room suddenly, and strangely is pitch black. I pick the torch up with limited vision to see spears hanging on a rack, in which I grab one, as the creature loses attention in Rick and charges me (this is pretentious, but then again it is my dream) which I run and vault on the back of the long spear and plunge the it into the demon's 3rd eye. The monster lulls back, flailing and screaming like a banshee, where he falls over and the blood starts running over the floor and forms into a red carpet stairway to exit the room where we find ourselves amongst an underground city with men and women hanging from stalactites and stalacmites, men floating in the air dead and mutilated, women impaled through the vagina on stallacmites writhing in pain(reminiscent of Cannibal Hollocaust perhaps). Rick and I are in a strange state somewhere between a trance and survival. We walk around aimlessly passed the cliche depictions of hell such as fire with people hanging above on ropes and demons torturing men to move into what I think a Hiroshima looked like had it been underground after the bomb was dropped. Deformed people walk around moaning and groaning, pissing themselves and defecating in the streets. Me and Rick find a rotting palace of sorts to walk into a room with an attractive naked woman, who struts up to me and demands I fuck her, telling me she's Satan's daughter, I refuse and she forms a snake out of her chest and starts to penetrate herself with the head of it moaning in ecstasy during which she grows to about 8 feet and loses much muscle mass. We ask to speak to the head of the institution (it was kind of a humorous dream in ways) in which she responded in 8 different voices at once that her dad would be playing poker in a business meeting and we'd have to arrange a visitation. Rick and I head to a large tower office-building with countless stories, where we can't even see the top of the cave. We walk in to demons in business suits smoking cigars who regret to inform us that we can't speak to Satan being a busy fallen-angel and all so we have to speak to a demon below him. The talk wasn't that clear to me other than us asking how to get out but he gave us a torch he said we must light a large bell with on the 7th story of hell. We take the torch to the 7th story of hell and light it. Once this had been done the room ripped apart much like paper tearing creating a vacuum Rick and I get sucked into. On the other side of the hole we find ourselves standing on a checkered, black and white floor with 15 doors, and only one that leads back home. The room has no edges; just what look like solar flares and arms of galaxies, we somehow find the correct door where we have to jump through space to land back home, but this is actually where I woke up. The End | | Monday, March 20th, 2006 | | 3:38 pm |
Unrelenting residual madness X10. | | Monday, November 28th, 2005 | | 10:36 pm |
I've seen things you'd never want to see dear Where you live in a packaged environment with a near complete lack of violence wrapped in cellophane Censors will have their say on what is the truth And when the wolves tore the children limb from limb theye were there to spectate and jeer- Broken necks, nerves still sending impulses to twitching body parts with guts splayed across the floor The brash horrors of reality and the blindfold they've wrapped around your forehead The victory-scream drowns out every snarling dragon feasting on the gullable "WE MADE A HIT!" | | Tuesday, November 8th, 2005 | | 10:48 pm |
Not that this is that important...
but I feel I must extend and impose my musical taste upon others so therefore I will list the bands that you MUST check out or little, hideous lawn-gnomes will come lay eggs in your chest while you're sleeping and eat your tender, moist sex organs. Without further delay this is what has been in my IPOD lately (more artsy, vague entries will be here in the near future). 1. Burst 2. Zeke 3. Bongzilla- Amerijuanica 4. Deadguy- Fixation On A Coworker 5. Integrity- Humanity Is The Devil 6. Coalesce- Functioning On Impatience 7. Neurosis 8. AC/DC 9. Skynard 10. Mastodon- Remission 11. Smashing Pumpkins- Gish 12. Mare 13. Blessing the Hogs 14. Converge- Caring And Killing 15. Pig Destroyer 16. Soilent Green- Confrontation 17. Brutal Truth 18. Lickgoldensky 19. Agorophobic Nosebleed- Bestial Machinery 20. Ringworm- Justice Replaced By Revenge 21. Today Is The Day- Temple Of The Morning Star 22. Swarm Of The Lotus 23. Kylesa 24. The Hellacopters 25. Swans 26. The Sword 27. Queens Of The Stone Age 28. Beck 29. Bodies In The Gears Of The Apparatus 30. Carbomb 31. Cryptopsy 32. Nasuum 33. Blacklisted 34. Suffocation 35. Napalm Death/Coalesce split- In Toungues 36. Radiohead- Live 37. The Cure- Pornography 38. Pedro The Lion That is all. Current Music: I dunno: take a looksie | | Friday, September 30th, 2005 | | 4:31 pm |
On Meg
The Sparks wasn't letting her sleep and she would ever so often make a slight twitch as she lay beside me I had to be at work at 9AM but I didn't mind as it was 4 AM and we had all night to kill Before she turned out the light I washed my hands in her bathroom and walked into darkness feeling the walls for the switch I tried to adjust my eyes to find her thinking in the back of my mind: "Fuck if I'm going to die naked after this In a girl's home I barely knew but knew so well" She calls me from the bed asking me what I'md doing as I inch these walls There is a stupified laugh and the night proceeds Two months later she sits seductively next to me during a shitty movie as we jest at horrible acting and I just wonder centimeters away from her what to make of it all This woman I know so well but little at all of Dare we speak of before and move into skin or do I play the justifiable coward and enjoy her company? They're so confusing attempting to make pertinent conversation and filling every silence with energiless remarks An I am no better. | | Saturday, September 17th, 2005 | | 3:57 pm |
| | Friday, August 12th, 2005 | | 7:58 pm |
The invocation (Part IV)
 The elite will bow to kiss the golden toes of the beast while the orgy continues through the ever-lasting night in a giant red-light district. Current Music: Today is the Day- Who Is the Black Angel? | | Tuesday, August 2nd, 2005 | | 11:21 pm |
"Think of water under pressure in a pipe." They thought of it. "I pierce it once," said the Controller. "What a jet!" He pierced it twenty times. There were twenty piddling little fountains. "My baby. My baby...!" "Mother!" The madness is infectious. "My love, my one and only, precious, precious..." Mother, monogamy, romance. High spurts the fountain; fierce and foamy the wild jet. The urge has but a single outlet. My love, my baby. No wonder these poor pre-moderns were mad and wicked and miserable. Thier world didn't allow them to take things easily, didn't allow the to be sane, virtuous, happy. What with mothers and lovers, what with the prohibitions they were not conditioned to obey, what with the temptations and the lonely remorses, what with all the diseases and the endless isolating pain, what with the uncertainties and the poverty- they were forced to feel strongly. And feeling strongly (and strongly, what was more in solitued, in hopelessly individual isolation), how could they be stable? "Stability," said the Controller, "stability. No civilization without social stability. No social stability without individual stability." His voice was a trumpet. Listening they felt larger, warmer. The machine turns, turns and must keep on turning- forever. It is death if it stands still. A thousand millions scrabbled the crust of the earth. The wheels began to turn. In a hundred and fifty years there were two thousand millions. Stop all the wheels. In a hundred and fifty weeks there are once more only a thousand millions; a thousand thousand thousand men and women have starved to death. Wheels must turn steadily, but cannot turn untended. There must be men to tend them, men as steady as the wheels upon their axles, sane men, obedient men, stable in contentment. Crying: My baby, my mother, my only, only love; groaning: My sin, my terrible God; screaming with pain, muttering with fever, bemoaning old age and poverty- how can they tend the wheels? And if they cannot tend the wheels... The corpses of thousand thousand thousand men and women would be hard to bury or burn. "Stability," insisted the Controller, "stability. The primal and the ultimate need. Stability. Hence all this. With a wave of his hand he indicated the gardens, the huge building of the Conditioning Centre, the naked children furtive in undergrowth or running across the lawns. Lenina shook her head. "Somehow," she mused, "I hadn't been feeling very keen on promiscuity lately. There are times when one doesn't. Hven't you found that too, Fanny?" Fanny nodded her sympathy and understanding. "But one's got to make the effort," she said, sententiously, "one's got to play the game. After all, everyone belongs to everyone else." "Yes, everyone belongs to everyone else," Lenina repeated slowly and, sighing, was silent for a moment; then taking Fanny's hand, gave it a little squeeze. "You're quite right, Fanny. I'll make the effort." -Brave New World | | Tuesday, July 26th, 2005 | | 1:02 am |
A cynical post
Carl Sagan was a pothead. George Washington, the founder of our country and arguably the best president of the US (but then again I wasn't around to meet the guy or Lincoln.) owned a field of canabis. It has come to my attention how abundant cocaine is to just about anyone. Austinites more so, since I live here and have time to evaluate this. Why is cocaine so acceptable with these people and marijuana deemed the "farmer's drug"? These deemed straight edgers (*cough* scenesters *cough*) would rather snort coke any day than take a puff of pot. You're not intellectual for doing a "white-man's" drug. Cocaine is absurd, and a prominent icon towards a short-lived, wasted life. I have witnessed so many people who take this so casually, and I'm sorry if I sound opinionated (because I am), but it's flat-out retarded. I've seen it mostly pertain to young kids (around the age of 14 or so) and older chics and dudes (20-34). That's some serious time if you get caught. Weed obviously isn't all that great for you, and I don't favor one over the other, but Jesus fucking Christ kids: COKE? I'm not going to say I haven't tried it, but when you start snorting like Schnuffleuffagus without allergy medicine it's a bit hard to ignore. Put down the straw. I'm no fundamentalist Christian of any sorts and I know I'm no mediator but you have a problem. | | Sunday, July 24th, 2005 | | 10:44 pm |
I Am Darth Vader
I've often looked at our fallen love as Star Wars You were carried away or maybe I was... Not succeptable to treason but am I really all that bad? Your plans for the future- shattered I am no longer the same I've changed over your death There are far greater sins than the side I play on Our love is a war Love is war My love is a war Totalitarian Lost love is a burned empire in a war that no one wins But the worse of it is that I'm passed the point of caring Fed by bitter remorse One planet gone is nothing to me Bent on domination This powertrip burns into your grave | | Wednesday, July 20th, 2005 | | 2:41 am |
Ego's Game
Down- the enemy of Up To let others fall to Down is to let myself fall to Down To be with Up when they are at the grasp of Down is far worse Let Gravity bring me at level once again so I can see the water in this glass be still and quarrel with no extreme but myself The air is thin with Up and bestows a constant headache, but dirt fills the lungs with Down, and I'm forever forced to stare to Up who sneers condescendingly at Down Down is every bit of ugly and cold as what Up is to vane and conceited Just make yourself more clear and maybe I could see you for what you are Maybe then I could show you what you mean to me Maybe then all this confusion would pass us over and these silent games we play would come into light and gain a mouth and voice Would you think that I would enjoy this any stretch of much as you? I'd want to belong To stay on stable ground To defy gravity Both Up and Down But as far as I knew no such thing was attainable And so here I crawl from one home to the next Open up I'm coming in Every bit of warmth Every bit of solidarity Every bit of glory Will be ours And I'd kill just to reach that place I will never let you fall again I will never watch you fall Never is a promise that can never be kept But I will never lie to say that I won't try And to pull through these conditions with cracked and bleeding fingernails is everything now. | | Monday, June 27th, 2005 | | 5:02 pm |
The Predator
 Since the dawn of time it has been shown that organisms branch off into predator and prey. Many of these route from the same species. If the lack there of the carnivore is taken the herbivore will play the surrogate as time has shown over and over. Over time these omnivores may become strictly carnivorous. With the carnivore comes the symbol of fear, violence and negativity: the hunter. Think of a way of life as a hunter; frowned upon by many, but a way of life nonetheless. A living off of others' life. No matter what you are you live off another creature: vegetarian or omnivore. Though the human world has made it simple to block out the violence involved in death (you didn't go out and sink your teeth into a moving animal and watch it slowly die and bleed) and put your food in pretty packages to a point where a piece of flesh looks like a mere box of cereal- it was once living. Even synthetic materials are made up of living organisms. Evolution is a constant fucking-over of species if you will. The big-dogs have their day and fall. The small ones are too weak to carry on. Life itself is a hunter. Humans are a blink of an eye in the terms of an evolutionary scale. Carnivores and herbivores almost play a light and dark/good and evil portrayl in the scheme of things. Is it wrong to have to be "vicious" to live? Is it wrong to have to be in a "peaceful" way of life? Good and evil balances. Death breeds life- with life comes death. | | Thursday, June 23rd, 2005 | | 3:26 am |
"I'm here Jen- It's too dangerous to cross over now- it's not ready yet and you aren't either too I hope. The intrusion is a gateway which will close behind me and disapear with me; it will leave here somewhere else. Other passers will come, and you'll be the last creature to use it..." "John?" "Yes?" "I've met someone..." "Good. Your life as an Earth-dweller has begun; meeting human's feeling desire and being in love: one of the most beatiful feelings you'll experience here." "But I love you: you first." "Love is a very different thing here." "What should I do?" "Cry; whenever you feel the need: just cry." -Immortal | | Friday, June 17th, 2005 | | 2:41 am |
"Fuck"
I'm going off the slow picture-book story I got going here for a second and ask you people something: FUCKING- to the point of becoming: it's not really love as more so lust. At that point when you want more than to be inside this person, but to touch every part of them at once. To feel everything in some liquid-embrace. Feeling everything- flesh all over. I'm not speaking of feeling united as a couple so much as I am just the want to be in control; complete control. Sex is control. You are each other's for that point in time no matter how much anyone wants to deny it. A control to a point where you are almost that person or they might as well be you. You're there to do your sins, and have 10 or so seconds of a near-heart attack for it. An orgasm is the closest thing you can have to death. Keep that in mind. Goddamn I love the grim-reaper. There is no way to explain and dissect primal, primitive emotions and urges. | | Saturday, June 11th, 2005 | | 4:02 pm |
| | Tuesday, June 7th, 2005 | | 1:19 am |
| | Saturday, June 4th, 2005 | | 2:37 pm |
| | Friday, June 3rd, 2005 | | 1:02 am |
| | Wednesday, June 1st, 2005 | | 1:05 am |
No- this is not the Bush post.
"Oh my heart that I have had when on Earth, don't stand up against me as a witness, don't make a case against me beside the great god." -Judgment (Ancient Egyptian Inscription) If truth is indeed absolution then where does this leave us? Lost childrend in a forest of doubt. We don't know what the fuck truth is; we can only judge and see what comes to rational observation and self-analysis, but then what the hell is rational? I just got done seeing Farhenheit 9/11 again and my blood is broiling again, I know Michael Moore is just one more person sent from the media to fuck with your mind as much as O'Riely and Jenna fuckin Jameson but his view to me holds so much more validity than any shithead right or left wing on the fucking TV calling me un-American for speaking my mind. True; there is stuff taken out of context to make Bush look like a total buffoon, but you come to your own conclusions, and if you truly support him, some trash talk shouldn't hinder your ability to stick up for his wrinkly ass. Also it must be known that some facts were not present, but for the most part Moore was right in the ball-park (I'm sure there is some village idiot that supports whatever is popular on TV or the movies though). Those people (the media) couldn't back their shit up in a cornfield with a compass. I'm tired of the rich praying to get richer sending the poor kids out to do the dirty work because when it gets down to it the rich run this country. The poor pray to get rich and for safety of their children while the rich pray to get richer and for their kids never to encounter the poor. The poor blindly put their faith in a religion that apparantley favors the rich. This is my grudge against religion and has been in me for quite some time being I was raised around it the majority of my life. I realized today that I am not pacifist and caught myself wrong again. I have a beast within: I will not deny this. It only comes every once in a while, but I got fucking angry after seeing these decapitated children. It was put there to fuck with my emotions with violins but it got to me. People are good-hearted I believe when they get down to it, but there is a huge blockade of ignorance. I think I'm just as Malcom X as Martin Luther King Jr. and dare I say it? Revolution? Perhaps: I believe it's the last resort, turn the other cheek: what happens when you run out of cheeks? If someone steps on my neck or the ones I love you bet I'll retalliate like a cobra. I guess this is my downfall. I don't want to let myself down to their level, but I don't want to be fucked in the ass either. I know I can overcome (we too) this monster called hate because it's only awoken in me every once in a while. This leads me to music. Hardcore is my outlet: it relieves the rage and invested in it a positive message: people that don't feel it don't get the message and don't understand what the fuck it's about. You' don't feel te cause. That's why I hate these shitty whiny suburb kids that cry about their girlfriends 24/7, screaming like there's no tommorrow. If you're not here then I don't care: hardcore is pure, fucking raw energy: hardcore is the moment: the now sent to create a message. |
[ << Previous 20 ]
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
blackbeardblood's journal
