All Posts (66)

Sort by

SEVENTY-ONE

keeee-RAP.

Here comes the sickler with her brand new polaroids...

acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances acquaintances 

would be nice again.

[oh?]

trust me.

{oh.}

Read more…

a theory...?...well sort of..

Based on A Conversation with a Schitzo

an experience i had when i was 20 or 21 years old? 

this has been on my mind for the past while since i recently watched a lecture given by dean about the taboos in science regarding unexplainable experiences like telepathy and all those other general phenomenon that science cannot seem to explain...and this theory of mine is also connected to the experience i am about to share. 

i must have been around 21 when this happened, i think this because i was still with my first lover and i boke up with him when i was around 22 so it has to have been some time before.  he was jamming at a music studio with this heavy metal band he was playing in at the time. i had gotten really bored watching and decided to go for a walk to get a coffee and stretch my legs a bit. i walked down to a starbucks near the jam space and thats when i met this schizophrenic man.

this man had been standing in front of me while i was waiting in line to order. he was wearing a suit, very nicely dressed, and looked to be around middle aged... forty or so....more or less. after i ordered and was waiting for my coffee to the side of the cash register, i had been enquiring if there was a coast capital bank near-by, since i was not from the area and did not know my way around, while the woman was giving me direction...the man in front of me had turned towards me and was also attempting to help me with where a bank could be. 

i remember thinking when he turned to talk to me, "wow, what beautiful eyes you have"...he had these giant brown eyes...that looked almost like a dow..he looked very innocent..and...he looked like he had a lot of sorrow inside his soul. what's funny is that he said this exact thing i had been thinking of him !!! 

"you have such beautiful eyes!"he said, with this wonder and depth in his eyes.

i replied "thank you!", rather surprised, not only because of the coincidence of thinking the same thing as him, but that his compliment side swiped me. it seemed to come out of no-where because he had just been in mid sentence explaining some thing else about the area. 

an instant after i had said thank you, he started weeping like a baby. no joke. like a little baby. one of those sobbs that come right from the pit of your stomach...a type of whimpering that is almost more painful to listen to than to experience. i had never seen a man weep like this before in my life, and it broke my heart!

at this point my mind was reeling! i was thinking...did i say something wrong!?

he seemed to understand my surprise at this sudden burst of emotion and explained rather apologetically,

"i'm sorry, but i have a mental condition called schitzophrenia, i come to this coffee shop to talk with people, it helps me keep track of reality!"...

i responded with great interest and surprise asking him if he wouldn't mind talking with me a bit about the condition.

he was very eager and thankful to talk with me.

it's times like this that i really wish i could have had a tape recorder on hand. the details of this conversation go way too deep to re-type word for word. also, he was incredibly hard to follow. as he explained the technical details of the mental disorder, he went in and out of every and any possible personality, and thought wave!! changing subjects faster than i could follow, and then continueing with the last explanation he had left off at. hah, in a way it was like having three conversations at once...or more so it was like having a conversation that was spliced up into different parts, but not flowing out in proper sequence. like starting a story from the end, middle, start...or going in every and any direction with the story, forward and backward!! 

the only thing i can compare it to...is ...it was like listening to the radio...with some body who cannot decide what station to listen to! the channels were constantly changing!! his mind went in and out of mazes that i could not follow or keep up with..but i started to learn that when he finished off with something, he would follow in a patter, if i waited long enough between him jumping stations, he would finish off a thought later on. it was difficult to connect it all at first, but i caught on well enough, just listening. at times he went into different accents. at one point when he was talking about religion he started talking like an american yankee, and it gave me shivers. it was very dark. at this point i started wondering if his brain was working like a radio, and if he could pick up on thoughts like they were radio signals. 

i decided to try an experiment right then and there. with absolutely no expression on my face to give this thought away for him to read from my expression...i projected a thought, very clearly, and very strong towards the center of his forhead. (i know this sounds strange, but stay with me) the thought i projected at him was this

" I AM AFRAID OF YOU, RIGHT NOW"...

i really need to emphasize that i did not show fear in my face. i did this with my best pocker face. because i was not so much afraid of him, it was just the clearest thought i could pull out of my brain to project his way! 

he responded, exactly as i had suspected, he litterally responded to my thought as if i had spoken it out loud. his eyes registered something while i projected it to his brain, and then a moment after he had finshed talking in his american yankee accent, he said to me with the greatest earnesty in his face "please, don't be afraid of me, right now"

haha. my jaw could have fallen off and hit the floor!

then he went into explaining some really abstract things. i wish i could remember this whole conversation, but really, it was the MOST complex one i have ever ever had in my life ( the only person who tops him on this is the homeless man in white rock, ryan! )

after a long time of listening to him, it was time for me to go...before leaving he asked me the strangest question

"do you have telepathic tendencies?" he inquired...

and i replied"well, i don't know! i don't think i do!"...

what had happened really freaked me out a lot and i didn't know at that time what to think about it. i still don't know what to think about it.

he said to me very directly, "well, i think you do"...

he said a bunch of other things along the lines of how telepathy works and how i can work on developing the tequnique. wow..awesome moments haha, getting advice from a schizophrenic on how to develope telepathic tendencies!! my life has been so strange! anyways, i just remained open, without judging the advice in any which way...more so out of interest in the topic in general.

i said thank you for his time and for talking with me and explaining his condition. he started sobbing again when i was saying goodbye, and hugged me really hard, like he didn't want to let me go.

as i walked back to where my boyfriend had just been jamming this idea started to develope in my head...that maybe schitzophrenics are just people who have too many signals going through their brains at once, and something has gone wrong with the wiring that they cannot connect the signals properly, like most people do. it's like their brains are these entennas that have got the volume turned waaaaaaaaay to high up on the channels nobody else generally listens to! and because it is so unrelated to most of what is directly going on, people call them crazy and medicate them.

what i think the sad part about this... is that...this man was not dangerous, but everyone is afraid of him...he is constantly miss-understood...but he has realized that he needs to force himself to be around people to confirm reality! what makes me the most sad is that nerologists cannot even begin to really comprehend the brain and how it really works! they only seem to understand a very small part of this waaaaaaaay larger spectrum of theories.. 

if science were to understand the brain, looking at it more as a radio, rather than something to dissect and medicate...i think people like Brian (i think that was his name but now i'm not quite sure) would be given more help than what is available to them right now. he was on medication while takling with me and i did not see much of a difference. but who knows, iàm not a doctor, or a scientist to know the difference. maybe he would have been 50% worse than he had been without the meds?

so, this is my theory, about that. i have had a few telephathic experience but i generally dismiss them because there is no point for me to focus so much on these things. i have to question everything that comes in and out of my mind. there is a balance inside, and if you don't question then... that's when it can become dangerous, far too easy to slip into insanity.

i really think that schizophrenics just need "brain training"...haha, if that makes sense? how to organize their thoughts better. how to control better what signals they pick up on!? maybe it will still take many many years for these programs to be developed, maybe there are people working on this right now! i hope so! and maybe only once we gain a better understanding into what the brain is, and how it really works can we really make a difference with people who are miss-understood and rejected for being different. i think the biggest problem in today's day in age is that all these groups of knowledge are seperated, and seem to be war-ing against each other, when they should be seeing the connections. oh well.

these are my thoughts of today. i don't know if my own opinion is right or wrong...this is just a sort of a theory i have developed over the past while and  some questions based on my very very small experience...and one video i watched. it's a complicated subject and there is lots that i do not understand! 

who knows? maybe i'm a schitzo !! maybe i've just learned how to control or ignor it!? haha. i'm sure if i told any councilor about my telepathic experiences or clairvoyance, clair-audio and precongnition they would medicate me ASAP. this is why i have NOT. and do NOT talk about this. i just wonder how many other people experience such phenomenons that go untalked about out of fear of being told they are crazy!?

i get random thoughts all the time. sometimes these thoughts line up with things that are important, or directly connected to some thing in reality, some times they don't! it has been a hit or miss thing for me...and the thoughts that don't relate with reality as i know it, i dismiss. i have to do this...to keep myself in check. if only these other people could be trained the same way!

any thoughts on the subject?

(oh and, please excuse me for all grammar and spelling errors, iàm a monster with the english language!)

Read more…

Flying With Geena Davis

Flying With Geena Davis

I sat next to Geena Davis on a plane once, and I am a little embarrassed to tell this story because it's anti-climactic and makes neither one of us look very good. I used to fly a lot for work, and occasionally I'd get upgraded to first class (or "Business Class" as we prefer to call it), usually when I was flying stand-by on a red-eye or taking a first flight out at times so early that you could still smell the strippers' perfume and vomit in the backseats of graveyard cabs. This was one of those rare instances when I was flying mid-day from George Bush to John Wayne (Houston to Orange County), and a male stewardess (steward?) came and found me in coach ("Economy Class") to inform me that I was being upgraded. I am strongly compelled to say that this is a very cool moment if you've ever experienced it. There's a special kind of look you get from the other coach passengers that's painfully priceless, where each wince or transcendent glance seems to be dedicated entirely to resisting the inclination to envy you. You realize from the flip-book of turned heads that try to avoid direct eye contact while sizing you up, that to the other passengers it's as though you've just been knighted and are now being whisked away to some mystical palace full of treasure and mead, while they will be forced to stay behind to try to split the precious few atoms of legroom between their personal item and their seemingly gigantic feet. However, the absolute best part of this experience is when you see the other side of the curtain; the faces of the people who paid full price for their first class ticket and are now being subjected to one of the peasants from the back, who in addition to breaking rank, is probably carrying dysentery or some other unseemly communicable pox. There is also the precious realization that seems unanimously shared in one giant cartoon thought bubble above the entire "First Class" area, that not only will you now be getting the same warm champagne and hot towel that they paid an extra $1000 for (for free), but also, for one special someone, a double-take and double-dose of disappointment when they realize that they will no longer be getting both seats to themselves. This one special someone that day happened to be Geena Davis. Now I will say that this was a rare instance for me, because I typically have *terrible* luck when it comes to airplane neighbors. Just for a few examples, I've sat next to crying babies, whooping-coughers, nuns (on two separate occasions), a man who couldn't fit into his seat, a man with a disgusting habit of picking at whatever skin condition he had, and Roseanne. However, knowing that I was encroaching on Geena Davis' personal space made me want to talk to her, and kind of validate myself to assure her that this was somehow a good thing - that I was one of the good ones. Unfortunately for me, however, I kind of stumbled and lost all grasp of all my social skills - I had no idea whatsoever how to break the ice. This was not a case of me being star-struck, but rather a different kind of peculiar moment where you just don't know what to say to Geena Davis when you know you're about to spend the next three hours with her, and in many ways, she already despises you. I regained some sense of clarity and mumbled out a friendly "Hi," and gave her a half-smile, followed by an apologetic gesture with my hands, and then a facial expression that attempted to emote "I know this is awkward, but what are ya gonna do?" I don't remember if she even said hello back. As I got comfortable in my seat, next to Geena Davis, I started to notice things about her. First of all, she has a very unique face; large, pale, with geologic outcrops that make her cheeks and chin stand out in the same way that my stereotypical Jewish nose does. I also noticed that she is significantly taller than I am, or at least that her shoulders were much higher than mine, her legs were longer, and her head was, as I said before, rather gargantuan. She was kind of dressed down in a frumpy outfit, so even though I recognized her, I kind of suspected that she might be, in her mind at least, wearing a disguise. She was wearing a really unflattering hat, an oversized smock of a blouse, no makeup, and a plum-colored pair of velour sweatpants that didn't really fit her in a flattering way. It was kind of jarring because I actually used to find her attractive in films. I remember thinking to myself "So this is what Geena Davis looks like now," and then immediately realizing that in all actuality, this is what Geena Davis probably always looked like, at least when she was out of the limelight (in bed, for instance, waking up after a night of passionate foreplay followed by three seconds of sex). The other thing I immediately remember thinking is "I can't remember a single movie Geena Davis ever did." I tried to remember, but her film repertoire wasn't even close to being on the tip of my brain's tongue. I thought for a second that she might have been in the movie "Heat," but then my subconscious film buff superego slapped my id and ego simultaneously into realizing that there were practically no women in "Heat," and that I must have been thinking of something else, which caused a panic feeling to rush through my chest. As this panic seemed to worsen, I started to feel like maybe I was becoming star-struck after all for Geena Davis. Then it hit me: The more I tried to remember her film repertoire, the more I realized that not only was I drawing a complete blank on her past movie credits, but that I wasn't even sure if she was still famous; that is, that I didn't and don't watch enough television or go to the movies enough to know whether I was sitting next to a red giant, or if she was actually an emanating supernova at the peak of her career. This did not help me come up with anything to say to her. As the plane took off and we were allowed to recline our seats and use our approved electronic devices, she didn't move. She had no book to read, no laptop computer, no iPod, no magazine - just the contents of the seat pocket in front of her, which were clearly going to remain untouched on this trip (sorry, SkyMall and airsick bag). The stewardess (or a female steward) came and asked us both, at the same time, "anything to drink?", and for one bizarre moment, it was like we were a couple, like we were traveling together with nothing to entertain us but our own faded romance and the gentle hum of turbine engines and the sweeping hiss of forced dry air. Geena broke this moment and quickly replied "No thanks." I recognized her voice a little, it was familiar to me, or at least I felt like it was. I asked for my usual (a Cranberry-Apple Juice, the whole can, no cup, no ice), which I almost always have to repeat because asking for the whole can, no cup, no ice is something people just don't do. What I don't understand is why people would want a tiny plastic cup full of oversized ice tubes that make your drink impossible to sip (without making lip contact with the jagged edges of the ice), especially when the cans come directly out of a refrigerator that is already kept colder than any household fridge. Also, I have had far too many tiny plastic cups spill on me (or at least my tray table) when all that's left is mostly-melted ice. She handed me the can, I shook it up, which you are, by the way, absolutely supposed to do with juice in a can - it says so on the instructions. This behavior has often drawn some extremely scared looks from past passengers because nearly all people share the same phobia for heavily shaken cans. Geena, however, didn't flinch. One other strange thing about Geena Davis on the plane was that she didn't even recline her first class seat, which to me meant that she wasn't even going to take a nap or get comfortable. Geena Davis was going to sit next to me for the next three hours blinking her eyes, breathing, thinking, and remaining seated in the full and upright position, with her tray-table closed and her seatbelt securely fastened. Now I had to say something: "Do you know what movie they're showing?" "No clue." I put on my headphones and went to sleep. We never spoke again.

Read more…

Not really a blog post.

Ok, before I begin this is not really a blog post it is a recipe but I'm not allowed to share a status that is over 140 characters, and so the blog post. 

Anyway, this recipe is for the best toasted almonds and pecans you'll ever eat in my humble opinion. So you put your oven on to 400 bake, and you put a bunch of almonds and pecans in a cake pan. Pull out your coconut oil, it doesn't matter if its solid or liquid (mine is always solid) and put a bit of that onto the nuts. Get out your soi sauce and pour just a leeeeetle bit onto the nuts. Add a dash of paprika and some salt, and put the pan in the heated oven. Roast them till you think there done and they will be fabulous. Just a note, go easy on everything that you put on the nuts, its not very good if its all soupy and gross. 

Allright! Enjoy!

Read more…

I am not finished yet.

 

The Wrustien Manifesto.

 

The Cause of Cancer.

 

I embody the Tao.

 

I am an orca.

 

I am an omnivore.  I never want to give up.  I never want to die.  Every so often I feel bone tired, exhausted, weak and weeping, but there is always more, an entire world, an entire universe.  I need to expand my borders not enclose them.  I need to ask questions and comprehend the answers.  I need to open my eyes again-completely naked-vulnerable and exposed, but not exploited.  I am always more, I am always surviving, one step further, one heart wrenching in-breath grip on terror teardrop further.  I need the elation of fear and hope, the escape of fantasy, the grace of forgiveness and the ever present blessing of family.  I am still alive.  I am still wildly alive, amongst all this rapturous silence.  I am a scapegoat.  I want to study the alchemy of regeneration.

 

This is hell.

It is one path to follow morals and laws blindly without question and completely another to come to an understanding of those same morals and values through personal experience as to whether or not you yourself agree or disagree personally. 

I do not agree with stealing but I am a communist.

I do not agree with emotional sterilization or intellectual privatization but I need money.  I think in gestalt.

My education should include all avenues of thought in as far as my society is incapable of my advancement.  I need to be constantly challenged and exposed, in many ways.  Ignorance only leads to corruption, manipulation, and destructive masochism of self.  Violence.  I am wrathful.  I will always seek what is prohibited.  In order to become an adult, one must be exposed to many different theories, philosophies and expectations.  This is crucial.  The Vampire will rise or fall to the expectation placed upon them.  I am an objectivist.  This is not to say that there is to be no enjoyment in labor but that the labor should be stimulating.  I know money is a barrier to intellectual development due to the fact that transportation and housing are priorities to comfort.  Is it possible to incorporate advanced study without creating societies based upon demeaning menial labor forces?  Is it possible to develop a world where no one is a slave and everyone excels in their potential by choice? 

What causes addiction and depression in modern society? 

My addiction and depression result from lack of stimulation.  What is possible to avoid these symptoms?  I have wallowed in self-denial and deception.  I tell white lies.  I am earning white teeth.

In order for me to develop into an adult I must seek the truth.  I am an adult legally but am I an adult mentally?  I am not yet capable of supporting myself financially. 

Truth is the most important fundamental expectation in the development of the Vampiric race which is based upon Egyptian philosophy.  When I lie intentionally or am in self-denial it replicates upon all those exposed to agree or believe in me.  I pursued exposure in order to understand what appeared to be withheld from my own personal development and in so doing developed an addiction to deceit in order to perpetuate my exposure resulting eventually in my decay of character and loss of self.  This is supplemental to my personality based upon defiance, the only expectation I had once placed upon myself.  I believe that the boheme which is the delta of Truth, Love and Beauty can be reached through the evaluation of Honesty, Passion, and Self.

My desire to learn was crippled by a lack of exposure advanced by my society and as a result I became masochistic and hypocritical of myself in and of my actions and of others, resulting in constant dissatisfaction.  I broke the law of the government and chose to become involved with illegal intoxicants.  American ideals of success and satisfaction are entirely misplaced in that honesty is often mistaken for cruelty and weakness is fostered-emotional sterilization through constant acceptance and compliance.  I am diagnosed bipolar.  I committed suicide.  I know that strength of mind, strength of heart, and strength of character result from success, understanding, survival, and truth.  I am a child built on endurance and I do not believe that love will save us; I believe that ingenuity and truth will.  I am a Republican.  I am a philosopher queen.  I name myself Rhye Wrust and my philosophy is to be known as Wrustien. 

 

A few examples from Wrustien philosophy:

“Invoke the raw and eliminate war within the self.”

“God is the touch within the ripples.”

“The girl who cried rape and the sensual orgasms she inspires.”

“I am a blizzard.”

“Fray the ribbon.”

“Barbie never owned a soapbox accessory.”

“Softly breaking the law.”

“In truth we trust.”  Should adorn our dollar.

 

I should have followed my own advice in the beginning and not have been so placid and altruistic in my acquaintances and friendships.  Loneliness is no excuse for tolerance.  If I want to live, I must learn to protect myself.  I am psychic and telepathic.

 

Education. 

The North is razed liberal.  The Eastern Invasion (All my friends were vegetarian Indians)-Psychic warfare, parts of America were so heavily affected that Stockholm syndrome caused advanced amnesia-this is a war for our minds.  The teachers I experienced psychically turn their students into satellites to further their own political agendas.  Psychic warfare, corruption of self and truth occurs from unsterilized education.

 

Politics have no place in education.

 

I was born my grandfather’s dog. 

 

I am Lucifer’s prized songbird.

 

Is it the fault of America that other countries do not uphold, regulate and protect their own legislation?  Is it right to cripple one country in favor of the damage done to another?  I sympathized in empathy to the point of self-destruction and betrayed myself, my family, and my ideals.  I am American.  Americans should work to develop other countries through support rather than war then the world should reach a point of ground zero cease fire in the interest of all.  All countries should focus on internal development rather than international plays for power and those that can assist another should but should out of choice not out of post-industrial neo-colonial altruistic guilt.  Vampires as one race need to be fully aware of the truth of their own endangerment; we are not hormone driven adrenaline junkies.  We are intelligent and emotional beings advanced in our wisdom, knowledge and relations.  Freedom from oppression derives from truth.  I should not diminish myself in order to understand failure which is exposure to diverse ideas but I should aspire to reach my own potential in order to achieve success.  Exposure does not have to result in exploitation.  Surviving exposure, recognizing weakness, and recreating the self, hence evolving is what I become not what I was or who I am.

 

Shift of Self Awareness and Focus.

 

The Self is dynamic.

In order to survive I must be highly adaptive and dynamic otherwise I will fall prey to the sands of time.  I cannot cling to the past.  I must move forward voraciously and refocus who I am.  I am a being not a car to be possessed as I have been told by an Eastern philosopher.  I am my body.  The East psychically hits the West stealing our minds while we rest.  The memories I have of myself predate within my adolescence due to the fact that I often did not feel like myself in my adulthood.  I felt isolated, entrapped, and alone-locked within my own body.  As a child I had one night terror about insects that made my room appear static.  I am a Vampire.  Where do I come from?  Insects consume and reproduce.  Am I an insect?  I dreamt of incest with my grandfather as a baby.

I fucking hate head doctors.  I am currently committed to Chippewa County and am seeing a Psychiatrist.  I alone am responsible for my mind and body but I have a maker and many lovers who take responsibility for me.  I am Carthage.

I love passionately and the objects of my affection and desperation are and always will be my own and the divine mystery of life itself, including the Earth but not limited to it.  I love my own existence.  I meant for these changes to occur, I simply pursued both my shame and suffering to a conclusion of masochistic destruction and denial in an attempt to preserve myself from myself.  This is heaven, the denial of self and nature.  I can relinquish the past and embrace the future without reaching a suicidal point of destruction either for myself or for the Earth.  I want my own apocalypse.  This is Karma and the power of positive thought.

I am healing myself now.  

I know I need help.  

I regret.

 

All of this that has happened to me is a result of my ancestry.  I am American.  My legal name is Rhael Joy Laramy.  I am my mother’s daughter and my father’s bastard.  I am glad I became a Vampire and that the temptation existed.  My own personal mysteries persist.  Why am I the way I am?  Why am I this lucky?  My dreams, visions, art and poetry drown me in what I cannot understand occult within me.  I long to live within hone impact my nature in such a way as to release a passion within myself that I am prepared to comprehend.  I now focus on control due to the fact that I do not believe in dualism but instead hold fast to my relativistic relaxed perspective of reality.

 

I sacrificed everything I was for a rush and a challenge.  I am as strong as I think I am.

 

I am a black Nazi.

 

I am Satahnic.

 

I admire Hitler.  Hitler instituted a system that eliminated decay.

 

I love decay.

 

I am a Jew.

 

Love and forgiveness for the Bible tells me so do not excuse poor behavior and poor choices.  Action is the only way to redeem oneself.  It is far more productive to tread lightly in silence along a mountain than to wreath yourself in violence at the foot of an avalanche of callousness.  Vampires are immortal.  Vampires are born.  Heaven and hell exist as incentives, but also exist as spiritual places of consciousness acting upon the physical body in very significant ways.  Attack a person psychically or spiritually and you attack them significantly physically in the real world affecting the mental and emotional state of the person, influencing their personal choices and limiting their freedom.  Mental disorders result from such actions of attack and guidance.  What is the nature of spiritual war?  Between countries?  Why isn’t protection and awareness taught to adolescents in school?

What is the purpose of evol?  I become evol when I am hated.  I need acceptance and love.

There are many Gods who possess the power over life and death, and there is only god which I define as the ripple of existence.  There are many Architects and their laws are not always obvious.  Never break a law you do not understand.  Never break the law of an Architect.  Do I agree with this previous statement-if the structure has a weakness is it meant to fall?  The laws of God are the laws of the Architect who designs the structure of Earth.  Is Satahn but one God or one Architect whose reality I explore?  What is an angel?

 

Law.  Law.  Laws.  Lie.  Lie.  Liar.  Laws and liars result from fear and lack of trust.  To become an Architect one must first be the child of one.  I am a child of Earth.  I am a fox.  I do not believe in democracy in order to defend myself as a whole against those who would consume my individuality. 

 

I am an old poet.

 

I am a newborn musician.

 

One Day.

Neon outline skeleton dinosaur stood upon the frontlines of sand the lovers gripped each other tight humane embrace and pitted polka dot spiders hiss hiss until I am driven mad to suicide but I daren’t jump from the rock face itch itch I open my head to inhale the spider and twinkle into the bucket another plum and tack sitting in the lotus position until I become brave and walk away through the foliage jumping the metal fence I receive a hug from my maker and it starts to pour magenta spotlight from the focus of mine eyes and I see spider webs in the shadows hide in the pools of light to save myself from terror while I become soaked and explore my foreign campus.

 

This is heaven.

Forgive me forgive me I cannot swear enough at the innocent amnesia and betrayal it is never enough for this shameless being to end so young and so old I seem only beginning against to see just past my notes.

I always talk to strange and familiar voices and long to keep my anger intact and hold on to honesty which is the veil gracing truth.  In heaven the endless basketball courts seem to wait next to the chapel where everyone sings and worships in a Catholic manner.  The doorman offers me my black socks.  I steal a child’s shoes and fall from the clouds to earth as another school bus arrives full of children.  I wonder when the skies will turn blue and free this sad dreamer from her rotting tooth.

I use tools of purification.  And I purify myself through thought.

Sleepless nights full of worry for the ones I love and once knew are like heavy chains of metal that remind me of you.

 

I am a naturalistic conservative.

 

I am a hopeless romantic.

 

I am an artist.

 

I am curious.

 

I draw arabesques.

 

I am red.

 

I am an inkblot.

 

I voted for the antichrist.

 

Heartache.

When you touch that beautiful doll and feel the tug of the heartbeat you stole does it remind you of me?  Does the dull thud strike uneven in your unmade mistaken mistress?  On this side of the fence the grass seems green with envy that all I am belongs to someone else’s playboy-cowboys who crucify me, lockjaw me, and hang me out with the dirty laundry I hung within my self-defense-self-demise-I am one you would want to know.

 

Will Power.

Never think of the devil, never speak his name, he’ll steal my tears and whitewash my sorrows until I have forgotten my very name-a slave trader by day, mystic magician of bloodstain blackmail-twist and limit the body gutless fish swim through frost heartless beasts of red eyed pawns-fawns who bear fangs and claws-burden the children who dare to break all of Abrahams laws of God.  Free Will is the only law of God I respect.

Never take for granted the gifts you possess-my body is beautiful and intricate, my spiritual self-complex and I should never for any reason let another take from me what I am because it is my gift and my burden to support, my purpose, my reason for existing, my will to live.  This is what makes me Vampire-my heart, my mind, my spirit, my innate truths and memories.

My soul has burned and become a ghost, my mind ruins my best intentions yet I feel most alive in the freedom of lack of doubt.  The spirit is the heart and will, it is not its own entity-it is the combination that channels through the blood and asserts itself, defends itself, speaks, winks, dreams.  It is my spirit that hungers for the intimacy of another’s touch.  It is my spirit that feels empathy, compassion, and longing.  When I listen to my ghost weep I feel regret for the beautiful creature I am becoming.

The soul I purified was a result of a personal tactile grip on New Testament Biblical fundamentals.  Why did I choose to let a Vampire kill my soul?  The temptation was arrogant and brave.  Do I know the truth of what I am becoming?  There is caution aired in the wisdom of my elders yet heed it I do now.  I am young and as such test all of the boundaries I can without realizing that boundaries offer protection and not enslavement though the latter is often felt.  The choice is not prohibited, the choice exists and in order to understand my choice I must announce myself to you.

America is incredibly sheltered and I was naïve in thinking I could control and fight blindly in a war based upon invisible liars and my own self-deceit.

Positive thought and action is cultivated through temperance and experience-appreciation and respect.  I have betrayed those I love which results in my ascension of self. 

It is never healthy to love another person more than yourself.  I know that now.  Love is infinite but narrow minded and a fixation.  But I am not a mother yet.

I fell in love with an owl, his sincerity, humility, character and charm-he reminded me of my childhood and the lover from my dreams, my silent partner in crime.  I could not let go of him.  I could not allow myself to accept that he existed, let alone that he liked or found value in me given my body dysmorphia, my masochistic hatred, personal addictive nihilistic tendencies and isolation and incredible naiveté that most men had either taken advantage of or mocked.  My pride is wounded perhaps more than my heart by these insane choices to have sex.  I am shy and bold.  It is humiliating that my worst desires turned into outward repulsive paranoia publicly which only increased my shame and self-loathing but which now liberate me to be my nature.  I was feral.  Insanity is mentally liberating because it is the action of instinct.

 

The butterfly becomes the moth.

 

I am not a red rose or so I have been given by a lover.  I prefer yellow roses like my great grandmother.  My experimentation with solar and Vampiric psychic energy as well as with human beings derived from my nature which resulted in a greater lesson and my exposure to the fourth dimension or what I perceive as the fourth dimension.  I am white.  I am black.  I am an empath.  I do not believe in a higher self.  I believe in the union of concentric expression which becomes within my action one argentic being.  This is how I will achieve personal agency. 

The practice of Kundalini yoga awakened in me my psychic Vampire self.  It was crack cocaine to the little girl I was with a broken heart and the sexual tension of a horse-hedonistic and raw.  I was able to harness my sexual energy for my own private artistic expression and personal agency to control and manipulate my world.  I am a whore who became a monk who became a whore who becomes a monk again.  I understand now that if I do not understand and trust in my true nature and desires with full acceptance that I will only become corrosive in my actions and associations.  I am very anal and judgmental.  “Honk if you think I’m Jesus” adorns my dark red Dodge Spirit.  This philosophy is my brainchild coal lab whore nation.

 

I am gnostic.

 

I am left eye dominant.

 

I am a savant.

 

I am an apple tree.

Read more…

I danced!

got up again and said, fuck it! put on AMOK full throttle. danced my ass off. sun is shining. temperature today, warm!  lov11010975675?profile=originaling the new music. loving the energy again. loving life today. so far, saturday rocks! <3

Read more…

Make Love Mine.

Make Love Mine.

 

White plush on a plastic backing.

Pick between your thighs.

Vodka olive.

Cranberry wine.

Forget me knots.

Fresh cut grass.

Avocado green boiled eggs from Peter cottontail.

 

I am putty in your hands, template broken stained glass sands.

The red hand amasses minute fears and plastic.

Stiff upper means and this rose is turning green.

 

Feel like a mirage

Smoke rising inside scrapes past my jaw in a path of Might, Mighty Mighty Mountain High.

Tell me sweetheart have you the line?

Honest I’ve forgotten the lime and the lie.

Milk in my whiskers taste jest fine, nice and worn, salty divine in a path of Might, Mighty, Mighty, Mountain High.

 

Ignorance is stupid walking with a stick.

The cripple who want dance, the junkie and his fix.

 

Broken cardboard mines, dig a little deeper for the marble inside on the Mountain High, the Mighty, Mighty, Mountain High.

 

Tinkertoy slavedrivers rubbing me raw, pinned me down to brake my jaw, misshapen hand between foreign scars.

 

Every time my heart pounds they inject me.

 

Every time my heart beats they correct me.

 

FREEDOM cradle sown.

FREEDOM I need to own.

 

My heart glows

Bloody foal

Butane and a penny for your marbles

Butane and a penny for your thoughts

The caul worn thin begins to rot

Crushed red velvet moistened rocks

Retract me heart gland BACK

Like clockwork

The dollar ain’t worth more than my artwork.

 

I see my knuckles bleeding with all of them lies.

FREE WILL free will I cry

Let me be the beauty to your wandering eye.

I’m sorry mother I can’t deny

I was lost.

Bury the burden Bury the belt

Cinnamon and Cocoa and we’ll be felt.

 

The heaven’s in my coal

The heaven’s that were stole

For diamond locks diamond locks

I’m a horse baby

Need no rabbit to run

Nailed to the mettle of the starting gun

Now there ain’t nothing better than having some fun.

Playing pretend again

Playing house with all my fire friends.

 

I’m your Instant Coffee Child

Black and mild

Feel me hunger

Feel me wild

As margarine ripped from the apple core

Smathers the toast face down on the floor

Please tell me mister have you the score

Fried worms and Ima bird on the wire.

 

You cannot reprint heart bought and sold

Pound for pound the blood grows cold.

And I know now that Satahn is old.

Read more…

For Sean.

For Sean.

 

Be kind to me

I’ve felt this heart breaking for so long gone

Forsaking all I once knew to be wrong

This my swan song thus for have I known I am pure to the bone

Awake.  Awakened.  Awake.

Feel me quaken

Feel my blood thicken in slow exhale

My thoughts cringe then take seed

Another moment with you

Glue your hands to my breast

I love you too much to fall asleep or take rest

Don’t you leave me now

Don’t you send me back to God

I came apart in the arrogance of kissing lost frogs.

Read more…

The Woman I am Becoming.

The Woman I am Becoming.

 

She wears lipstick when she wants to kiss a man, a condom for her mouth, a smear of glove to reduce the touch.

MaKe me pretty

MaKe me sweet

MaKe me a woman but be discreet.

Eyeshadow and mascara to accentuate her dull eyes, nail polish and jewelry to no one’s surprise, armour for the parlour, the tricks are all laid in.

Sex on the menu.

But not one man makes her come in.

A hollow thud.

A broken heart.

Beat beat the drum, ripped from the cowhide and the forest’s thumb.

Natural now-Naturalistic-this woman bleeds for invisible lipstick.

I know when my bangs are too long, I light them on fire and singe away the ends.

Read more…


Find more photos like this on w.a.s.t.e. central

more photos on my Tumblr

****

11010974272?profile=original

Nigel on twitter

11010974861?profile=original

Nigel on twitter

***

Atoms for Peace - Dropped (HD Live) @ Berghain - Berlin 08-03-2013 *thanks to http://twitter.com/theatman

Atoms for Peace - Amok (HD live) - Berghain - Berlin 08-03-13 *thanks to http://twitter.com/theatman


Atoms for Peace / Thom Yorke - Harrowdown hill (HD Live) @ Berghain - Berlin 08-03-2013 

*thanks to http://twitter.com/theatman

***

01. Ingenue

02. Black Swan
03. Stuck Together Pieces
04. Dropped
05. The Eraser
06. Amok
07. Before Your Very Eyes
08. S.A.D.
09. Atoms For Peace
10. Unless
11. Harrowdown Hill
12. Default

* thanks to idiot computer

Read more…

moussaka

Up date for the day/week: I acid washed a jean jacket today, Its not finished but the toxic liquid has already taken affect. Also my mum made the most delicious moussaka! Eggplant is a beautiful vegetable. This past week has been a classical music week. I'm obsessing over Schubert and Chopin, but lately I have been feeling tired and small. Frustrated with everything and feeling like I'm never going anywhere In the big world, like maybe none of my plans will pan out and I will have to fumble and bumblefuck my way to some stupid town where I'll live forever. I'm probably being totally dramatic, but I feel useless and uninspired, like I need a slap in the face or a cold shower. I think I'm just in an overall slump.

Read more…

The Anti-fag Thom Movement

Dearest Members of Waste Central,

 

I regret to inform you that the object of our affection and admiration has slipped a few notches in his belt.  For all the tea in America, HE HAS A PONYTAIL.  What a dousche.  Join me in protesting by posting how much you despise his ponytail and we will rue the day he cuts it off.  He is public property I am sure you are aware.

 

Kisses and Ribbons,

Rhale

Read more…

For Thom ingenuinely.

I love your pea cock

Strut your stuff you lovely bird

You are welcome at my house

Any time day or night

Drive me crazy baby and I lullaby love insantly

Thank you for the memories

Salvage me dental bills  dentist

And in this modern age we are young

Even though you are old and slimy

I hate your pony tail

Stupid git

I kiss your perky bum

And you know it

Fuck off.

 

Kisses.

Read more…

SEVENTY

flypaper

wallpaper

sandpaper

doesn't paper

it doesn't matter

it doesn't matter

here it comes

creeping in 

hovering about

touching down

rising up

do i feel it

not at all

not at all

only outcome

lose both

wanted it on my arm

'say her name'

it doesn't matter 

it doesn't matter

never expectation only hope

they ask

where is the couch

where is the cabinet

i can't tell them

they can't understand

at all

at all

Read more…

Blog Topics by Tags

Monthly Archives