TEN Things about ten people, there it is again.
Current mood: amused
1. You sir, well, damn - YOU SIR! I'm very happy you're back in my life and vice versa. We are kindred warriors. Ventrue and Tremere, I guess. However, much more than some Role Playing Game sarcasm - you're my oldest and truest friend by this point. We've seen each other at those points we'd be frown to talk about with anyone else. You have my back, and I have yours. We will conquer this peasant's game, Mr. G. Conquer, and better ourselves, and grow unto perfection. Don't let this bullshit, as huge as it may be, disturb you. Time will destroy all unperfect things. What we have, in all of its lovely inperfection, is damned perfect. Stand true.
2. Fucking Athiest. A Muffing making fucking athiest. Go to hell and die. WAIT, no, you disbelieved hell, and now we're all gonna end up in a giant black void filled with shitty gingerbread muffins and Psyklon Fucking 9 playing in the background while you play HL2 for the rest of eternity. Lovely. Fucking super. But besides all that... I guess we've been come a bit closer recently (nohomonohomonohomonohomo...) - and I think that'd do us both some good, from a business and friendship perspective. Awesome times, HCK! *stompstompstompstompstomp*
3. Thanks for the bro-love...and the pvc pants. LoL. Man, you know, you and your lovely lady have given me so much emotional support - and you wouldn't know the level of that. There's been days, but just havin' you and the rest of them there, jnot all that close, but there, and welcoming - it's meant more than I can - or would - ever say. You probably won't read this, but still. Worlds come crashing down, it's the most holy thing in the world when the new one you find yourself in has welcoming arms. Means a lot to me to know you're there, b.
4. As above. Stop playing p.o.k.e.m.o.n. Ok, that just destroyed the anonymity in this, but STOP. No, just kiddin' with ya. I got nothing imperitive to say that hasn't been said, but I do hope to get to know you better Miss K. You're a fantastic person, super smart, and I find myself fascinated by your mannerisms. A great friend, and someone who, combiend with yours, has shown me that true love can and does absolutely exist. I thank you for being there, as I'd be there for you, should ever you need it.
5. Wow, you know, talk about mixed effin signals. I'm really not one that worries to much about others or what they're doin', unless it personally affects me - but with you? Well, something about you is special - I haven't figured out what it is yet, and maybe I'm not supposed to, but there's something that keeps me turning my eye towards you more often than I should. You are the first femme' in a long time to almost make me...shy - and that inherently terrifies me. I don't think you trust me much, and I know I don't trust you much - but I'm not always obvious about that sort of thing. Despite that, I'd still utterly love to get to know you better. I guess it's a feline thing. You know who you are, if you read this, I know - and if I'm right about that, it'll terrify me even more. I'm allergic to seafood, dammit.
6. My lovely sister-lover-kins. I miss you so damn much, but at the same time, I don't. You're one of those people I consider family, and you'll always be there, in the cockles of my heart - or maybe below the cockles...heh. Well, no, really. I miss you near me, but I don't, ebcause you're doin' what you gotta do, and you're happy with your BooBooKittyFuck (lawl) - and that makes me absolutely overjoyed - so I can't really miss you too much without bein' selfish. Visit more though - and I know I should too.
7. Other sibling, original sibling. You and your infatuations. I wish it'd sink in for you. I absolutely adore you, but it's almost painful to watch you flitter about these things, taking them so personally. I guess a part of me was honest when I said I'd take you out sometime, as in, a real date - but I don't know where you'd be. Such is the princess, always wanting what she can't have. You deserve the best of Them, darling. I am too much like you on the inside, and while it does not scare me, it gives me a grave understanding that you're going to have to suffer until you choose not to suffer anymore. I love you, and I'm always here. You are, perhaps, one of the most passionate people I know. I exist in peripheral for you, but that's ok. I will be on side-stage whenever you need supporting cast.
8. Eh...you're a real cunt sometimes. I don't even know why you get to be on here. We dated, and then we were buddies, and all of a sudden, the world spits you some reality and you haven't learned to take it - merely turn sour to those who actually give a fuck about you and snuggle up to those that'd very willingly tear you apart. Worse, you pay attention to the little rumors and sayings and drama that fill your social circle. You have wisdom, where did it go? You have light, I can see it when you smile, Balanced One. Why do you refuse to grow up and become those beautiful things - fear? It pains me to see you writhing in childish misery in a literal hole in the ground, begging for emotional scraps from someone who has long realised that sometimes you gotta go live for yourself in order to do the best for yourself. I don't know how I inherently feel about you - in a way I love you, but in a way I see you teetering on the edge of void that may drop you into a subgroup of folks that would probably be best kept herded behind electric fencing. Please free yourself.
9. Shaaa. I haven't thought about you seriously in a hot minute. I don't know why I messaged you the other day, but I no longer feel the occassional emotional tug when I do think of you. I guess a final rant couldn't hurt, not that it's even needed anymore. A chance to recap some things about us that I'll never take the time to tell you to your face. We both did a lot of shit wrong. Some things don't work out all that well. It happens. For my credit, I only lied once, and you'll never know about that, and it ceased to exist. You're abyssmally young - and I knew that. I knew I was giving you too much attention, but you were...sadly...my drug. I knew that too. I never thought another person could make me feel so good. Emotional Rehab sucks dick, but cold turkey IS the best method. It was me though, who became something I wasn't; a puppet with good intentions. I tried to become something for you, and I didn't realise that it wasn't me. I became a degraded version of myself and leeched off of you for happiness. Addiction, love. I was weak there, but now I know - you helped me jump an important hurdle. It won't happen again. You though, are not without fault. You should have warned me, little Angel - and should have payed more attention. I expected more from you than I got, and that's my fault. I always knew when you lied to me - Always. I never could admit it to myself and break my own bubble. There's my humble admittance. And yet I loved you anyway. Then it became toxic. I hope you grow into yourself someday. I bet you'll be better than I was when I was there! I wish you best, and so, goodbye dandelion head.
10. No, this isn't in order of importance. Maybe Number 1. Oh, someone's slot is getting filled up...lol.
Who is Number 10? SURE. Of course. How could I forget, YOU? Silly FISH. Reggie used to call me that, and now I udnerstand it - seeing myself in a gender-swapping mirror. You're a little minnow, growing into a great catfish. That sounded like a chinese proverb or something. You're pretty awesome, but I wouldn't call you My Heroin. You are, somehow, one of my Soul Mates. I sense a magick in you - I smell the world of dreams around your soul. Your eyes carry a wonderment that hasn't given up on this world yet, and I hope you can carry your innocent love until you leave this place. Fishcakes, one or two eternities from now, there will be two fih, swimming in a puddle on top of a mountain. One fish will blow a bubble at the other fish, and that fish will giggle. Those fish will be you and me in heaven. I'm happy we met before then.
"The name of the Dweller in the Abyss is Choronzon, but he is not really an individual. The Abyss is empty of being; it is filled with all possible forms, each equally inane, each therefore evil in the only true sense of the word—that is, meaningless but malignant, in so far as it craves to become real. These forms swirl senselessly into haphazard heaps like dust devils, and each such chance aggregation asserts itself to be an individual and shrieks, "I am I!" though aware all the time that its elements have no true bond; so that the slightest disturbance dissipates the delusion just as a horseman, meeting a dust devil, brings it in showers of sand to the earth." - Aleister Crowley
The Abyss they speak of must be that state of mind that places an extreme importance on the notion of a 'Real World'. The delusional static-state of group masturbation that is 'reality' is the only 'way to live', or so they say. People will die for their belief in their 'real world.' I'd rather not die, personally, nor would I apply (from experience, an educated assumption, mind you) the term 'real' to the term 'world', unless we're discussing a certain shit-bubble of creative excrement that pops up on daytime TV - and then I wouldn't discuss it anyway.
So who is Mr. C? Well, I guess he is me, but me and he don't pull punches much. There is no illusion of importance there between I and I am I. No sir. I'm as non-static and disposable of the rest of you teens. He (or she, or xe) is you too, like the Star Wars kid is us, only on YouTube, so screw juu, JuuJuu. W-t-f. Hahaha.
C. is like a process. A process to find A. A, didn't Mr. Elijah name it A.? I think it's real name is exactly that, best defined. The standard symbol. The first corner of x in the equation. Or the last, depending on how you look at it. So, really, it's like a video game, or a horse race with more napalm. Or a porn. Yeah, we'll go with porn, add a healthy dose of unicorn blood and satire.
Starting with YOU. You're the one that always screams it, "I am x! No, really, pay attention to x, for a is awesome to x is b, r, y, and t say so! Look how excellent x is! Srsly. You guys! Srsly!"
Unwarrented self importance. Find yourself, I'd say - and escape. Hell comes first, it's stop numbah one. Then destruction, pain, misery, hopelessness. Then nothingness, in particular, concious nothingness. Then the Most Holy 'I Told You So' manifested in our own personal Ark of the Covenant, and then God LoL'd. So did I. So did I am I, if he could LOL, that is. He did, you know he did.
Then you wake up. Yeah man, you wake the fuck up - like those new agey hippie types are always saying with huge, pot-glazed eyes and extended vocals - "You gotta wake UP! This world has got you blinded! The Corporations! THE CORPORATIONS! GUBMENTS!!!" Well, not quite. It's more wonderful than that, more cynical too.
After that, you stop doing drugs - you don't really need them anymore (save the occassional hallucinogen when you're feelin' lazy, and caffine, if you want), and then sex becomes more amusing than necessary to breed. Redeemingly lovely, this process. A = B. Btw. Noob.
Did you know that laughing apparently works you out about as much as 10 minutes of rowing exercises do? That's effin awesome.
And sex, I repeat, burns 500 calories an hour. That's worth repeating.
So the next time I go on a date, I'm taking my lovey to McDonalds, 'cause they have 'bout 900 calories a Big Mac - and I'm looking out for you babe - we gotta work that nasty shit off our abs. Seriously.
A note on Flaking:
Flake, in my vocabulary, stands for someone who cannot keep plans compulsively. This is usually a mixture between an overinflated expression of self-worth mixed with a sudden, primal fear of rejection. You are not good enough to prove the awesomeness you just professed to me, so you fear the social reaction to your fib - twist it around and equip with the excuse 'I am to important, and my plans can be changed suddenly because of my inherent importance.' and you have a guilt free frosted flake.
However, I find one of the dictionary definitions of 'flake' and more accurately, 'flakey' (the act of being a flake) more true to the reality of the situation:
2. flakey - made of or easily forming flakes flaky tender - easy to cut or chew; "tender beef"
Meat.
lol.
Don't be so timid, lovey, you need to get out more and stop being a prey animal. Hahaha.
/end egomaniacal rant
If you've read this far, you spend FAR to much time online. If you see the number '333' in any form, consistantly, your life is probably going to self-destruct in 3 days, 3 hours, 3 minutes, etc...seriously. Beware the number. LoL. It's serious fucking business. C said so, and we all know that C is SFB.
ILOVEYOU
IBIS-cakes.
Currently
listening
:
Parlour
By
Darling Violetta
Release date: 2003-02-25
I've met a lot of new friends recently - lots of people I'd previousley considered 'associates' have gotten closer, while a lot of people I would consider family have drifted far from me. This isn't bad, merely necessary I guess. I miss people, but I find joy in experiencing new friends.
So where are we? I dunno, guys - where are you?
There's been a constant growth within my heart - I find myself hard pressed to lower walls and communicate with complete openess. I guess it's a growth process, in and of itself - you never release a product unfinished, so you give a demo to play with until you're satisfied.
Meanwhile, as I regrow, stronger, the Outside has become more and more interesting, surprising.
A lot of people are calling me 'Magick' these days, and despite myself, I rather like that name - your name should describe you, in brief, but completely. I am that word - I love it, and so do you. Nice ring to it.
I gotta get some new pictures, show off the flowhawk - but first, I'm going to redye my hair today ( bright purple again, I'd say) and then take a few snapshots to throw up for the peanut gallery to gawk at (lol). Anybody got any bleach?
And it's almost time to go. The bank closes soon and I need a new Tarot card deck! And a coffee, iced, with mocha, if it can be at all helped.
Can you guys do me a favor?
If I haven't spoken to you in awhile, for whatever reason - good or bad - get a hold of me. I'd like to invite you back into my little world of unreason for a visit, and take that opportunity to walk through yours. If we have unfinished business, perhaps we can laugh about it now, and find something new with which to play.
So in this awesome place we find ourselves, I have so much to show.
Thank you, Bel Air cats, for giving a tiger a place to curl up and nurse his broken paw. I'd like to say I'm really developing a love for you guys. New mysteries too, in my manner of mysteries.
At least it's keeping me out of Baltimore County, right? Damn circles of hell...
May be moving soon, with the SYZE, to a nice place we can start fresh in. Build our legends even more and offer a nice place to our loved ones to feel cozy and free in. Location shall remain Anonymous until further notice.
You have my number? Well the phone works both ways, Internet. Shame on you for being flakey, ahaha.
later,
Mr. Ibis,
or MAGICK
considering the concern of all constituants, consultants and contestants condemned to clarify my concordant clandestiny. Ci le vi!
Currently
listening
:
Disorder
By
Chiasm
Release date: 2001-03-27
I am a sexy, sensual, stylish socialite who knows the Secrets. I am amazing in bed. I never tire. I do not believe in work, but I believe in success. I do not care about how any guy acts or has acted, nor about your past or issues. I only accept beauty and action. I achieve what I want instantly, and I want everything.
If you're not an ego-bending, sanity-raping, gender-less minded beautiful-skinned psychonautical Magickian Warrior...
GTFO.
Seriously. Get. The. Fuck. Out.
Go ahead and imitate. Just don't be surprised when I don't call you in the morning. Stop trying and do. I'm sick of running into pseudo-compatable mates and investing all of this fucking mojo and then becoming an emo-ass fakery of a Lion God because my puppet-kins can't compete. Do not attempt to compete in this Game unless you're ready to -not- be a 'tard. Stupid Oomans. And their games. And me, and my games. This is an EGORANT bitches, 'cause E is EE-GNORANT, k, fuckhole?
So, right. Hasn't there been enough spiritual epiphanies in your boring ass life to kick your ass into evolving yet? I know, being a consumer-driven monkey is EASY, but fuck you and your easy - especially when you're bitcing about being bored and stupid. Easy is a blowjob, and I like easy, but only while driving around on I-95 between destinations of HARD. And let me tell you 'bout Hard...
Now start practicing social destruction and self-God-making before I come over there and force my Masculine Principle in your rectum. That's not rape. It's Sodomy. It's different. Fuck you, and thanks Jon.
Now who else is feeling this way and may actually understand that they may not feel this way tomorrow? Who else craves the passion of a Magickal Sex Cult in Death Robes? I'm horny, lonely, fantastic and extremely irritated about this -I- thing that gets in the way of all my Psychic-Unity Crap Talk that really nails the Wiccan Chicks...l.o.l.
So call me. Really. Bored. I need a vacation after Ocean City.
I.B.I.S. (Can you vibrate that? Is it like IAO? lol.)
I enjoy that femme attention. I like the sexy bodies, the gorgeous eyes and the stunningly, obnoxiously weird personalities. Those who challenge but can give me back as much effort as I can put in - someone, most of all, who doesn't give up, and has the WOW factor to stun. A more-then-a-person-person that is never satisfied with their own state of being or the state of the world around them. I need to have the company of some hope-filled movers that enjoy tackling their limits and demons with wit, beauty and magick...
Perhaps I'm looking in the wrong country for this?
And yes, I'm feeling very -earthy- right now. I'm in the mood for stunningly amazing in the looks department. Odd-sexy, always.
Challenging, but trustworthy - an open-book with many secrets. I'd like some exotic arm-candy.
What...well, yeah, that's egocenteric, but you gotta please the Vehicle too, right?
Spastatic. Time for some sleep and enjoying my new 'hawk. Hahaha.
True Love [human to human] is slammed into True Suffering [human vs. human] with infinite force, generated by a variably expanding momentum do to a looping mental/emotional pattern effect.
Explosion.
Choronzon consumes himself, myself, you, us, them and i.
Leaving there a great void of free'd momentum. Insert the SUN force. Blossom into RA-HOOR-KUIT. The shell shatters into reflection x infinity. i is a lantern, observing itself through a mirror.
Generating fire, there is a call to go searching for that True (nothing is true) Love (is the law) inside PsychoSpace. I is a permanent vehicle. I needs an army. I is poetically tranced.
stfu i
Thank you for that gift of LIFE. What else can i say? Free'd from that puppet-like Iron Maiden of falsities. Choronzon came and we shook hands this time. Understand there is a difference between the desire and the Will. It must be in bloated extremes that we do This Work. Do not forget the experience and the important sensations. Words are meaningless. Action is meaningless without result. Epiphany itself is the Goal.
Remember, everything is an equation. A = B. Cause - effect, Start - Finish, Desire - Reception, Now - Tomorrow, Me - Angel, Man - God. Everything is a process. Everything a step. Nothing is ACTUAL. All are symbols. All beginnings are in -A- (Alpha) and all endings are in -B- (Omega) and there is no difference. Aleph breeds with and is birthed from BABALON.
[A = B] = X.
EHEIEH. I AM [/NOT] X.
Bring it On. I form myself to take my place among the true Desert People.
What a Fool sophistication can bring within someone. A drone?
Only the Fool can leap from the cliff and fly. I had forgotten the invigorating feeling of being FREE. I had forgotten the taste of NOTHING IN PARTICULAR that lingers in the spine when you take those baby steps into acceptance.
Death. Mr. Azrael, the cruelest, truest friend I know. Fear Him Not. The death must last. Weaving the childhood blizzard into the metaconciousness for my own destruction. Ripping the flesh from my muscles, the light from my bones, the FAKE from my SELF and the SELF from my FLOW.
Expecting Nothing, Enjoying Everything - 0 equals Insanity equals Freedom equals God. I Love It.
I feel nothing. No malice, no happiness, only those tingling surges of ecstacy welcoming me back, laughing chaotically because it was -I- who ignored THEM for they had never left, that THEY are ME and -I- am DEAD.
Free falling. Forcing a Self upon an aspect that had since been free'd from that. There had been a forcing of a mask and a resurgence into the sickening world of the Dead-Souled - I am CHORONZON. Otherwise, I am None and Choronzon is Dead, thank God. Who is He who is the All-Begotten Doomed? Cursed and Hexed, I give it all up for the ecstacy of dancing blind in the night, drunk with the Blood of the Gifted and the Damned. Righteous with the Pull of the Weak against the Illusion of the Strong.
I am [Not] So Rape Me.
This society is Dying. America is fading. Our children are hopeless. Romance is gone in the face of the barbed wits of inner dissatisfaction. Loneliness is preferable to the KNOWLEDGE that Others are as Dead as You - there is no Work past the Beehive. There is no Individuality past the Work. That Seperation is the Sin.
I sacrifice my flesh for the Magick.
I allow Mother Kali to pick her blackened teeth with my bones, vomit bile onto my expectations and gnaw hungrilly at all of my hopes and dreams. I ask for Death and kiss my own sobbing carcass when I get what I deserve - NOTHING in the Void. Calling, flutes throbbing in dark basement rooms, dancing accents at old bridges and fire-singed curtains fluttering from the breath of exhaltation in smoke-stained Coffee-Shops in deep city street corners.
Anarchy in the Mind, kill the Brain, find only the Extreme and sacrifice it all for nothing. Pointless madness resurging into me feet, propelling me into the adobe of Hell that has finally accepted me...
The 9 Layers of Hell, all around, but it's Summer and I'm supposed to wear shorts, right?
I Love is a word lost upon the Wordless. Find only that which you can enchant. Your feeble definition of WILL and MAGICK is only an excuse not to completely remove the saddle from life as it is supposed to be lived. My pain is Death bubbling into my veins, necrotising my pointless emotions and worthless desires, my beliefs, my hopes, my expectations. The house, the girl, the job, the money, the trips, the cars, the books, the games...
Eat it with tabasco sauce, great blind Mother Kali. Eat it and then eat yourself so I can realise that I have indigestion. Tie me up and splinter my love across the open galaxy.
But yet, fill my Center with the Son of Suns and rupture my flesh with the light of the great WHORE, just to spite the BEAST. Cancer me, rapture me, rupture me, for I am [No Longer].
This isn't for You. Will be done. It never was. Thank you for freeing me. Pain is pleasant is pleasure is Terror is No-thing New to Me. Thank you for erasing yourself and myself and all of them. Enjoy the Dieing World. The beach looks nice this time of year, but don't forget to fear the deep waters, and know that a single surge can wipe away that cursed city on the sea with a mere twitch of the Moons pull...I look forward to seeing you crumble, because you will move to thank me later, and I will no longer be alive. Take this as you will now, random reader, but remember only this last will and testament of a dying generation, of a dying desire, and know that this I that -I- am referring to is my ghost writer, my english analogy to something detaching into the mist of the End of Things.
Azrael calls for you deary. Know that the Strong suffer the most. Be strong regardless and though fear and disinterest will take you, in logic, understand that it is not my doing or desire to see this happen. Merely it is inevitable. Your path has been started, and DEATH is the end result. Then, after you have begun to rot, the sun will be brighter than anything you can ever imagine. Enjoy the ecstacy, but only you forget what you were thinking.
Time to get out and live with people. Be in ocean city from the 7th - 15th doin' that evil Voodoo - lovin' the night as we do, spending some of it with my lovey, some of it with my Cats, and some of it with the faceless crowd. Call the cell-e and meet me, I'm up for some shots and rampage.
So I think I'm out of night shift. I can't take it much anymore - causing my personality to get extremely bent. Need my sleep, so tomorrow I'm going back into the job hunting pool and setting out early - but in OC I plan to use my skills to make some dime.
What's that mean?
Well, again, I'll be the wandering Tarot Man, Mr. Ibis - that's $15 a reading and I promise you will not be disappointed. Other services available, inquire for details. Hah. If you can, advertise for me, or don't, I do that by myself. Watch out for my tye die swimsuit and crazy hair, lol.
I love you fuckers. Otherwise, I'm getting me a martini and a tan.
amused
insubordinate
awake
adventurous
cheerful
artistic
blissful
