for now we see through a glass darkly
her instincts ain’t wrong lol
oh, god, i love that sinking feeling. and i’m rotten as hell for feeling that way. i should steer away from the dark waters of this world (lol), but i have commited the sin (lol) of living just long enough to have developed a tolerance or at least an unhealthy relationship with all that bad chemistry. as i crawl deeper into it i dimly see a way out, but i don’t take it, and instead go further on till there’s no coming out for some time. what an impulse, man. what a terrible, rotten thing. . . !
well: sometimes, no matter who you are, you can be a real bastard to yourself whether you want to or not. what makes my case especially egregious is that i am aware of my self-destruction, and gleefully fling myself towards total annihilation when the lights go out! damned, most malignantly! and so on.
i have said all these things before, maybe too frequently even . . . and maybe also this website is something of a dark monument to that godawful thing i cannot get out from under. i have let the fire invert me and i see now only through a glass darkly, and on and on, and i think: fine! i fly through the blackest gorges and yet still higher than the birds over the plain! my great destiny is to die alone at the bottom of the world. until then i will seethe and write lonely diatribes and make stupid videos for the internet. in these trying times, what other choice does a fine american like myself really have?
“. . . dissenter of the sun . . . i know you don’t know you are empty inside. . . .”
there is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. and there is a catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. and even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.
every time i read that i get chills and feel like crying
TO HIS CREDIT
DID IN FACT DISAPPEAR
WHEN I MADE IT CLEAR
THAT HE WOULD ONLY EVER BE
A CHALK OUTLINE
OF A DEAD AND STUPID THING
IN MY PERIPHERAL VISION.
back in december, before my friend quinn mysteriously disappeared from my life without a trace (quinn!! i miss you), she and i had a double-feature movie night and watched PSYCHOMANIA and NEAR DARK. it ruled.
this was one of the theatrical posters for NEAR DARK. i’m dedicating a whole post to it because this is my website, man, and i can do whatever i want with it. and also because i love bill paxton (RIP) and because i personally identify with the physical trauma he is (stoically??) suffering from, being a vampire-fleshed quasi-human myself. lord! this poster! it’s just a picture of a charred bloody leather-clad deadbeat who is seconds away from turning to ash and / or imploding. amazing~
anyway, yes, hurry up and watch this thing, you fools!!!
rock and roll is here to stay!!!
come inside well it’s ok!!!
and i’ll shaaaaake yooouuuu . . . oooo-hoo!!!