Δευτέρα, 26 Μαρτίου 2012

diritta via

I own a fish named Lazarus. In the mornings I call him Lazhar.
it exists lost in one vast fish tank, for half of the divided sum of a dozen human years more than it should, right in two, unaware of just how lost it is, swimming through what is water molecules, dissolved fish food left overs and its own shit and dying cells.

I turn up the volume so that i can't know my voice is working but in my own head.
screaming along with symphonic music is perfect. it has a certain biblical quality. it is the end and i am screaming.

it will never hurt as much as the shinning blade does when forcing out the cimson life that pours so willingly out of  polluted vains. similar to sucking out the poison. sucking out unwanted life. so I just smile, let's see what can hurt me now?

9 circles,
I can faintly see just the first one.
will it be the fifth or the sixth that will dispense my soul, cleanse my eyes of all impure rivers, and gift my all to oblivion.

I am the bastard child of Nyx, spreading along with all my brothers and all my sisters the sorrow and the evil darkness onto the world, dancing singing intoxicated hedonistic hymns in the superior layers of the air,
ensuring the misery in the fates of men,
creating all that gnaws on their spirits out of their cold nothingness.


the list hanging from the ceiling above my bed is too long, and I shall get started.



Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate 

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