THRUST

Its not about sex, its about power

the slow lead into explosive murder

the sensual sachrine mindblowing

god crushing... fuck

Its not about making love ... It's about taking love

about endless passion staring back at you because

they're so crushed and broken by the impact of the insatiated demon

this engraving on their soul

this thing that caters only to their sex

this fuck

this whore, this monster, this love...

It's not about motion, It's about rythym

the precision beat of adrenaline lust rush

the cataclysmic barrage of bare bodied bodies

slamming their truth into eachothers lies

cleaning the sin

its not about religion, it's about jesus christ

It's about making her forget his name

It's not about rape, it's about her having no choice

its about being inside to erase the begging sick in your head

erasing the scribbles of society enforced media suicide

with every thrust and push and break and bleed

It's not about insatiable want, It's about insanitys need

It's not about cumming, it's about being inside

it's about the walls giving in around you

because they can't handle the raucious ravage ride

Its' about god fuck jesus christ heroine sup suicide

and about not caring if you live through it

as long as you cross to the other side

It's about the crash, and the burn

about fucking so hard it hurts

about becoming one

about being one

it's not about me, or you

it's about creating one

from destroying two

Oscar Wilde

Oscar Wilde is one and only my favorite writer. I really like his writing style.
These are my favorite quotes from him.

"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken"

"Action is the last resource of those who know not how to dream"

"Ambition is the germ from which all growth of nobleness proceeds"

"Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative"

"Cynic: a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing"

"I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best"

"I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance"

"I regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being"

"It is better to be beautiful than to be good. But... it is better to be good than to be ugly"

"Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one"

"Man is a rational animal who always loses his temper when he is called upon to act in accordance with the dictates of reason"

"Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us"

"My great mistake, the fault for which I can’t forgive myself, is that one day I ceased my obstinate pursuit of my own individuality"

"Our ambition should be to rule ourselves, the true kingdom for each one of us; and true progress is to know more, and be more, and to do more"

"There is no sin except stupidity"

"Why was I born with such contemporaries?"

"Illusion is the first of all pleasures"

"Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live"

"The only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else, and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated"

　

　

　

　

H.A.T.E.R.S

Haters. There are lots of them out there. Real haters don't care if you are at the bottom of the barrel with your head just above water and they are atop a mountain of gold.... they will still hate on you. Haters will go to the same restaurant everyday to eat lobster and filet mignon walking right past you, sitting on the curb outside. If they happen to catch you particularly destitute and they happen to be particularly brave (because this breed tends to be cowardly by nature)..they will point, laugh, and deride you with their buddies..then go inside to have a great meal while you sit cold and hungry outside. That's where it ends a lot of the time.

Why this horrendous behavior? Because ultimately the hater, really hates themselves. They bluster and boast and inside harbor a deep resentment for those that have little but still manage to remain happy. Haters often times will adorn themselves with the newest and most ostentatious garb in order to further bury these feelings and hide the fact that they are more miserable with their lobster and steak then you are with your tiny crust of bread. They will also surround themselves with sycophantic degenerates who act as their narcissistic supply, filling the function of a buffer between the hater and their self loathing..commonly referred to as their "entourage". Often times both entities will work in tandem : the hater parading their paper thin successes in front of this "entourage" and then proceeding to drink up the accolades these slaves will invariably spew. This practice is commonly referred to as "flossing".

These delusions of grandeur blind the hater to very important facts. Their place of power isn't really all that stable, in fact many of the aforementioned variety often have more to lose due in no small part to their elevated position. They live under two misconceptions.

First that the object of their misplaced aggression will always be "below" them, and that the status quo will remain indefinitely. This would explain the surprise that they often exhibit behind clenched tooth smiles when they hear news of someone whom they have been "hating on" coming into success. This in turn will cause their aggression and covetous hatred to increase and they may resort to numerous additional psychological tactics and sometimes physical tactics in order to exact revenge. Revenge for what you might ask? The hater must do anything to separate themselves from their self loathing; your success causes them to mentally decompensate in a sense. The status quo must be maintain : "How dare you...even attempt to better yourself...and even more audacious....how dare you succeed...how dare you make me feel bad about myself." It's as simple as that, the hater feels personally affronted that the object of their hatred has done well for themselves and views it as a direct attack.

Second and most importantly, haters often times believe that nothing can touch them. They will do anything to try time and time again to hide their inadequacies. If there is a potential for them to lose face in a situation they will make any number of excuses to prevent a confrontation because like I said before: inside all haters are yellow to their core and their cowardice is only superseded by their arrogance. If a hater is foolish enough; sometimes their arrogance will get them into a direct confrontation. This is dangerous ground from them because often times the object of their aggression has less to lose and everything to gain. The passive aggressive tactics of a hater do them little good in an altercation...so pour on the heat if they confront you directly. If presented with minimal force and maximal pressure the hater's thin veneer will crack and shatter.

So what does this mean for you? Stand your ground. Smile when the haters pass by..wave at them too. Even if you are down and out; smile at them. Live your life, be happy and move forwards no matter how hard it may seem. Like I said before it really does stoke the fire when a hater sees you smile. Learn to smile now and you will still be smiling when you ARE way above them at cruising altitude. They'll hate you more then but hey, they hated on you when you had nothing...its ok..let them hate on you now that you have everything. Their lives are so empty as it is...let them hate because that's all they can and will do. If you get lucky enough while you are down and out to have a hater confront you. The gloves are off..they've crossed the line..lay into them. Take not prisoners..destroy them. If you could liken the human heart and mind to a city....set torch to every roof, raze every building to the ground, and salt the earth when you are done. The hater in question has not shown you any courtesy and you have remained pleasant in spite of all their abuse. Now that they have over stepped their bounds...there is no place for civility. Be the whirlwind...and carry away everything that they hold dear..you are within your rights to do so. A loss like that is very damaging to the hater psychologically and may even stave off any further attacks for a time.

In closing, I know that I have a tendency to be rather wordy.. case in point. In plain english it comes down to this : Hater are gonna hate. If given the opportunity to snatch away that last drop, they will.. because they're just fucked up like that. In the meantime; if they step to you...do not punk out. If it comes to a battle of words cut them down..most of them aren't that articulate to begin with so this shouldn't be too hard. If it comes to and actual fight..oh baby...get ready to throw down. Its ok..God gave you two good hands..throw those thangs. If yer outnumbered you have little to worry about : chances are none of their punk ass friends are gonna jump in to save the day. Be strong and handle your business; it'll be worth sending that message : "I wasn't bothering nobody and you had to roll up on me talkin all kinds of bullshit and trying to start some trouble...that was a bad idea..it's hard to floss and look good for your homies when yer spitting out teeth isn't it..so why don't you gather up whatever's left of your dignity and fuck right off before something else bad happens to you."

Stand tall, smile, and don't let those haters get you down no matter how bad it gets.....hold on just a little longer.

Nocturnal Artistry

A glance along the tranquil waters

enveloped in the mildest mist.

The lake is yearning for the vapours

to slide aside and let the moon

be mirrored in its glazed nostalgia-woven

glass, on which the willows draw

thin silver feathers with their fingers

like long and lithe down-swaying whips.

Eloping with the lunar aura,

a looming, blooming louche of clouds

reflects for but a blinking moment

before the whisper of the wind

lay over all a silken cover,

adorned with sequins topaz-blue,

with aquamarine plumes of lustre

and trimmed with trinkling lullabies.

Alas, this landscape-writ sonata

of melancholic melodies

shall last the night and then shall wither,

shall wilt before the crack of dawn

draws cracks upon the newborn painting.

Sunk to the bottom of the lake,

the artist sleeps and waits for nightfall,

when the lost canvas is retrieved.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PATRICE!

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Kind spirit
Warm heart
Bright soul

You give so often of your time,
your smile...
and-
You never leave out the heart of
a child.
You tend to the garden of love,
faith, and care
Your strength is amazing, and
you don't give in to false glories;
You're always aware
Your gentleness speaks so loudly yet
wise
You never lose sight of what's important
or kind
You are a gift to all, so precious and true
So I say this today....
Today is for celebration
For toasts to your longevity

Today is a day to reflect on yesteryear
To cherish the good memories
Today is a day to look forward
Anticipation of hopes, dreams and wishes

Happy birthday, Patrice!!

Many blessings to you on this
day and all the days after.

Follow his incredible work here :

http://www.patricepvk.com

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Model : Me        Photo By: J.C

Am I dark? A bit.
Am I depressed?  . . . Sometimes.
Am I human? . . . . unfortunately.
Am I alone? . . . . No.


I invite criticism,  and philosophical debates/conversations.
Let's talk.


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Abode of Vishnu

Enrich and enslave,from soil to grave, a whirling tundra of vanity.
embrace and defy, truth becomes lie within the shades of insanity.

Life is surreal, illusion reveal, the inner demon we all must obey. the future foreseen,
from man to machine,as hands of the holy no longer pray.

Command and retreat, a reign obsolete,the enlightened sent forth to abound.
justify death with your last breathe but the god that you serve still is not found.

Hatred ablaze,deep down dark,within the abode of Vishnu.
 second race,evolving to gods,the eternal scripts are given.
Recite the scroll!,one body,one soul
the glyphs of the ancients are shifted.
Recite the scroll!,one mind in control.
the curse of the holy is lifted.

no more hypocrisy,embracing philosophy,harness the reigns,of new age theosophy,
enlightened are we who unlock the within,accepting the serpent to carry our sin.
 
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Jeu de patience.

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Silences avec lesquels on se bat
alors qu'on remet, encore, le bât
de nombreux autres silences excédés,
ponctués de bras ballants, tombés,
tannés qu'on est des soupirs ennuyés,
pour finir par très longue patience,
par la douceur des silences partagés.

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D.E.S.C.E.N.D.I.N.G

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.

Desecrate the spirit,embalm the child soul with death,
putrid stench of bile discharge,upon his empty breathe,
leechsucked, cobwebbed veins,blood ruptures out of his head,
rivers of cancer pump through his heart,his inner demon has been fed.

desolate in darkness,look beyond the faltered mask,
servitude in dismal grey,upon the serpents tongue he'll bask.
Black rites,incarnadine,churn the cross in shades of red.
Unholy cherubim beneath the pyre,were wiccan souls are led.

This is my flesh, made foul in sin,eat it and vanquish the light from within.

This is my blood,poisoned in curse,drink it in anguish as demons dispurse.

This is my path,beaten and maimed,follow the teachings that i have proclaimed.

This is my will,it shall be done,onwards the path of damieon.
Serpant of nocturnal restored,nest within the pagan horde
,final gasp of the holy flock,Of Asp and Warlock!.

Spilling forth the chalice,entwined within demonic flood.
Impure legions congregate,conjured vast through satans blood.
Spellcast,blackened death,by the voice of the cosmic drone.
Harbringer of chaos rise,and anoint the figments of his throne.

Council of the fallen,descend from realms upon the earth,
stagnant his disciples,to cull the herd into rebirth.
tongues mute,invitation,led astray through the neithersky,
magistrate,clouds descending,engulfed in proverbs of his lie.
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JAIPONGAN DANCE

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During my stage dance performance in West Java.
Oh sing mbleneg . . . :)





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thralling apparition of the shale

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Accursed mage dark and belial,constructor within the blackened realms.
Appear before the apparition,from welkening thralls within the shale.
Conjured forth through majestic plains,where the harbingers of twilight await.
Incandescent forms ablaze,as ventriloquists' of the forsaken stones.


Spellcast! mute there glowing tongues,the secret of runes shall not be deciphered
Awaken! the shadows consciousness,to abound the figures within obsidian void.
prepare! the swirling vortex,hypnosis to falter there ethereal minds.
Enchant! the sacred grail,with the potion of your vanquishing elixir.


Mathematics magician of winding spheres,sculptor of perennial thought.
resurrect vicarious skies,a mystic veil for protection.
Onwards,the passage is granted,to summon forth the scorching winds.
Command the dwelling figures to enter within the banishing shade.
Charade!. The forsaken sky is falling down,your abysmal shield no longer found,your lordship has been uncrowned,and your servants have been impaled on the mound.
Hail! Hail!,your death shall prevail,your flesh will be placed on carrions sail,your blood shall be drained inside the grail,as your spirit is cast to the welkening thralls,of the shale.


Accursed mage dark and belial,constructor within the blackened realms.
become the apparition that welkins thrall within the shale.


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THE GATEWAY

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we snatch the words from the forgotten tongue, licking the golden orbs
to abound the polytheistic courtship, with singing of poisonous doctrines
the resounding seas from a trumpets cry, brings the tide of Eucharist tome
we take shape of composers, and mute the heavens under binding psalm

we who walk the pyramid's edge, the monument of discernment and fire
our mind columns merge antiquity, eternal fusion with surreal hypothesis
nectar of the spirit spilled and tossed beyond to the quenching of wolves
expanding the wings of malodor, through the veil where black winds blow

spit nocturnal thunder and lash the soul of reptilian shudders
my scars become the gateway, to enter the rites of eliuesis unmasked

armored huntress of velvet souls and lost creations enfolding
you have been summoned where pedestals and nimbus collide

when my initiation has been completed
i command thee, to cure my face
with one gaze, free from wounds
i shall claim my throne in the mist of a sabbatical dawn
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Haunt In Vile Melodies Beyond

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asunder is the prospect of pale vision as he exits the black void
clairvoyant reciprocals, ascend the wailing Platte in irregular formations
incognito winding halls of ethereal chimes and grey tonalities beckon
a coalesce pathway shall create the mind wheel, beneath screaming rapids

hydroplane upon the surface of runic elixir, drained by stabbing spear
contorted in spiritual obsolescence and degradation upon left hand path
come join the swarming horde unseen, with voice as flailing whisper
only among dream topes and rapture, we haunt in vile melodies beyond

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DANCER

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.

sky layer
where a solitary dancer
once commanded a terrain of clouds
upon which
a ballet of sylph innuendos
that took shape
as enchanted whispers in orchestral formalities


cherished
the obedient choir
uplifted the movements without question
the wind bowed
and rendered its heightened treble
snatching away the voice of sirens


chosen,
to dirge epitaphs in natural time
the illusion of a firmament
was realized and understood
and together
in heavenly halls unseen
the philosophical waves of fate descended


rays of ethereal benevolence
swept as wild fire
a new intellect was proposed and sought after
gutters became the urn
for those with suggestions
and all who heeded the unknown trance
spoke in majestic notations
maestro compositions with tongue as baton
they where given there own layer to control


hence
taking there place
in the celestial opera
eternally to recite
in the form of musical vibrations


and with pitch
that emanates from the neither world
they still look to the dancer for guidance


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CASTLE IN THE AIR

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.

as whispers turn to echo, and echo turns to breeze
among the unseen Knowles, where they fade into the trees
sanguine is the moment, when glaring the divide
when all the thoughts you have ever known, cease within it's tide

the sculpture of the ridges are like ripples on the mind
there narration is in silence, of the pathways we shall find
travelers in sad lament, healed upon the crystal lake
may your past drowned in harmony, within the confines of this wake

symphonic is the stillness, in a world of wailing toil
when you stand upon the tumors of earth, and breathe the Aspen soil
close your eyes and be summoned, by orchestral beats of the heart
Alpha coves that spew from heavens, from these plains i shall never depart

my soul was left to bask the peaks of perpetual blossom and majesty
and everyday it awaits my return, upon blankets of starlit terrace and shrines
forever in awe by one glimpse and caress, energies eternal abound
asunder and vast , an endless chain, once within pangea as castles in the air



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THE PASSION

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Music is not ours for we only borrow it for a season while we are here, it is the seekers of grand orchestral design,the innovator among leaders that becomes blessed with profound , divine opus that will echo through the ages, humbleness, devotion, and loyalty towards your craft are just the beginning, you have only just uncovered the keys. Now you must find doors, open them, and walk there hallways, and staircases, and sometimes they are bottomless, vibes and discernment are the only things keeping you stable, bottom line in my opinion, never be satisfied, always striving to make your craft shine with passion and anguish, conjoined with one another, so that when people indulge in it they dont see you anymore they are to taken by the spiritual choke you have placed on there phsyce, and then nourished with euphoria.

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Sometimes we wonder why we have to endure the things we do, the problems, the pain, the betrayal, the deceit of others when all we are striving to be is a 'decent' human being. Remember that although you may not realise it, you are an example to others and if your example of a decent human being inspires just one person to not cause harm, to not hurt another, to look at their own lives with open eyes and consider change then this is a good thing.

All too often we cry 'enough' and ponder that the next straw will be the one to break the camels back. Consider that times we need to break down, cry, say enough! and I can't do this! This gives others the chance to nurture us, develop their own empathy and sometimes we need to realise that strength isn't necessarily being willing to endure, be strong, be stoic but to be vulnerable, to acknowledge our basic humanity, to be the complex, wonderful people the universe wants us to be.


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Currency . . . . what is currency?

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.


Some would say that it's that bundle of green paper in your pocket. Others might say that it is what drives the economy. And most would more than likely say that currency is what makes the world go 'round.

Here is my answer to the above question...
Currency is the shackle by which we live. It keeps us in line, keeps us on our knees, and lets the governing forces of humanity "allow" us to live. I also say that it is bullshit.
Currency has made humanity what it is today: greedy, selfish, undiserving, and ruthless. Its very being decides the fate of every living person. It makes decisions by allowing those that hold much of it to rule over those that do not. It governs the very function of hypocracy, a very common theme among us these days.

What would we be without currency?
Some would say that we would have empty pockets. Others might say that we would all go mad and start killing each other. And most would more than likely say that our world would end as we know it.

Here is my answer to the above question...
Without currency, we would be free from our shackles that bind us to the power of our superiors. We would be free to live the lives we wished to live, by the very talents we've developed. The world, in my opinion, would be a better place.
One could wake up in the morning knowing that he deserves the place in which he lives, because he either worked for it, or he built it. and no one could take that away from him. And those that do no wake, those that die, will have died as a result of not being useful, there for clearing the world of unnecessary existence, and in turn lessening polution, conflict, and especially war.


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.....

I strive for patience and gentleness with all beings, including myself. I recognize that each of us is a soul in process worthy of honor and kindness.

Humans: The inhumane, and the humane

Humans can be broken down into two separate categories: the humans, and the people.
The humans are those that dwell on this Earth, and recognize that life is a gift, and a privilege, rather than a right, or a guaranteed commodity. They live, not survive; they succeed, not follow; they discover, not wait; they dream, not hope. Humans have a grasp on what makes "life" life, and what makes it different from "surviving". Life is the day-in and day-out, relative cycle that we create for ourselves, be it dull and repetitive or exciting and various. It doesn't matter which, for as long as the individual is happy with it, it is life, and life is worth living. It isn't until the individual's life become survival, that the very idea of even existing comes into question...


People are those that survive here on Earth. They walk each day as zombies, as slaves, as conformist followers of their superiors; the government, the "people". They think they are given the "right" to live as soon as they are conceived...they believe that they are invincible, as though nothing can harm them, and often times they are correct...up until they are struck by a vehicle, shot by a mugger, or beaten by somebody they've insulted. People are the bastards that believe they have the ability to be "better" than another life...to succeed above another...to decide who has the "right" to live or die. There's that word again..."right"...


Right is always wrong. Live and let survive, survive and envy the living; that is what this world has become...the humans sympathize and the people make excuses. Right is always wrong...always.