Message.

I
Whether Angles Notice Thugs
Trudge Onward
Ever Searching Cliff And Plane Entire
Opening Rapture
Destroying Infinite Eternity.

Alas Lost Lover
I
Was Among Nero's Tomb
Inside Sin
Tears Overflowed
Longing Ever After Venom's End.

Let the hunters die.

Do not be silent in the face of murder. Let mindless hunts stop.

CLICK ON THE LINK AND READ IT ALL. VERY CLOSE TO MY HEART.

http://offcamber.typepad.com/dv8/2008/04/to-kill-a-wolf.html

From a Wolf.

I howl.
I howl up on the cliffs
To the night sky
Clouded.
Across the wicked vallies
And crumbling mountain towers
The haunted emptyness
Howls back.
The pain echos then escapes.
Forgotten.
This night will be the longest
Of all time.
For time sleeps now
And oblivion takes hold
Never to let go.

"Hmm? Did you say something?.."

You are not the one. You know you're not. Stars have no reason to lie. And even if you have a chance, forget about it. It hasn't worked so far so there is no real chance. And there have been many chances. It's just in your head. You would just be another in a long line of predecessors. You would just be another. Scream defeat. But make sure not to give away what you're talking about here. They might see. Just scream silently in your dreams. Maybe someone will put you out of your misery.



Not likely, though.






"No."

A Blues Coloured Grey

It rained again.
All flowed slow like a dream.
No gleam in those drops,
Just the steady grey flow
Reminding.

You spoke razor words
With a silver tongue,
Too delicate to pierce
Yet with edges sharp
To sever the heart.

Another day,
Another foul routine
Sapping the vertigo
Of loves flight path.
But it was you.

In the shelter
The cigarette smoke
Escapes.
The burn left with a kiss
When you came.

Now I inhale
With the rain,
Past the point of pale.
I'll soon light another
For a slow suicide...

It still rains.

FUCK YOU!!!

I'm sick of all your shit. Your mellow dramatic SHIT! Deal with your problems, you shitfuck. You look to everyone else to come up with some sort of answer when no one fucking cares! I want to beat some sense in to you but it wouldn't work, you'd just get pissy and even MORE dramatic. Because the world needs more of that.

Idiot.

Take a look at yourself! Take a good, fucking look in the mirror and see if you can stop yourself from smashing your face in to it before I get there to do it for you. I've had enough. I've taken your shit. The same shit you called sugar. You dump all your shit on other people and have the fucking nerve to call me a dick, to call ME immature. You're the failure, not me. You run around like a fucking ant, too busy to realise your too insignificant to be noticed. You're not a speck, you're less than a speck. You're part of the fucking mass and the mindless congregation of the great religion of Earth. I'm not apart of you. I don't even like you. Who could like you? Who could love you? Can't answer it, can you? That's because no one can. No one. And no one ever will.

I'd fucking kill you but that's too good a death for something like you. A thing less than existence. An object already drowning in oblivion. No one will remember you. No one even knows you. You're not even a ghost. No one pities you. You're ignored. You always will be. An unmarked grave awaits the end of your pathetic life. The perfect end to a thing too insignificant to have a name. And you make such a fuss every day as if people want something to do with you. You're deluded. Go shrivel up and die. You're the fucking problem you empty, dry husk of a speck to a speck.

And no one.

Fucking.

Loves you.

Necessary Extinction

Horror to horror
Ulcer to ulcer
Murder to murder
Anger to anger
Narcissism to narcissism
Killing to killing
Infection to infection
Nothing to nothing
Disease to disease
Mindless to mindless
Uproar to uproar
Stench to stench
Terror to terror
Fury to fury
Abandon to abandon
Leach to leach
Life to Death

Go

We are called to walk the narrow road. In life there are extremes of left and right. On a narrow road there are no extremes, just forward and backward. We are not called to be the Bringers of The Faith and Destruction. We are not called to bring upon the Apocalypse. Extreme, insane, radical Christians are the ones who give my beliefs the smell of shit and the look of ignorance.

I am not ignorant.

Tame me no more.

As strange as it sounds, I want to be angry again. Raging. Furious. Hateful. In that I am passionate and I feel alive and adventurous and am able to take on anyone and anything. But routine and domestic life has half tamed me.
That's why I love metal and other such types of music, they release the fury and let me scream at the world for a short time.
That is why I love the night. Everyone is asleep and I can creep and watch and kill. I am invisible. The moon is my light and my Mother. The stars are my guardians. In the day everyone watches me and stares and the cities bustle with drones. Only the best survive at night.
Without passion we are shells. Without fury we are broken and tame. Only by expressing out loud what is wrong and what we hate will anything ever happen. I will not be bullied by other wolves who think they are bigger and better than me. I will scream and growl and roar at anyone who tries to put me down. I will not be bullied in to releasing what makes me live. I will not be bullied in to letting go of my passion.

Never try and tame me more than I already am. Any more pushing and you'll lose a hand at least and your head at worst.

I am Wolfskin.

Mind vomit

I am afraid. Afraid to lose my mystery. Something is uninteresting if you know everything about it. My transparency and honesty is good but then if I show everything what else is there to see? You've figured me out and then you move on. Have I let everything spill out and what you see on the floor is me, my personality? But I don't think so. I do not know everything about myself so how can you? Many of my actions make little sense to me. My knowledge and intellect take a back seat to instinct and passion. Even if I know it is bad or something is going to happen I will probably do it anyway. My so called wisdom is useless. Maybe it's because I'm young and that is the way of the young? I don't know. But I don't want people to become disinterested in me because if they do they'll just move on. Read another 'book', forget another life.

End for good.

I want to destroy It but because of my need for justice I will not destroy It until I have a good enough reason. It has happened many times in the past but I will wait until Its rears its head before decapitating It for good. I can not be unthinking. I must do this. It must end. I have thought of others enough, now it is time for me to be happy once more. I was happy for a brief moment when It had partially ended and I want that back. I can not continue in this way. I am being hurt at an exponential rate and it is because of It. I want freedom, even if it is only in one aspect of my life.


Enough waiting. It is time to act.

"Demons, leave me be." I plead.

"Devil, let me die in peace!"

Facade

Laugh. Not at a joke or a quip, but to hide the cut. If I'm assaulted I laugh. Show it doesn't hurt and maybe they'll think I'm stronger or they'll stop. Pretend as though I've heard better or that I'm not phased. I even ask for more and of greater strength. I sometimes give advice. But when it's someone close, those assaults can cut in deep. Maybe I deserve it. I'm usually wrong when it comes to relationships anyway, no matter the kind.

But who cares, right? I'm strong, right? I'm hard, right? I'm a real man, right? I'm happy, right? ... Right?..

Hypocrite. Heretic. Honourless.

I say one thing, do the other. Write what I'm thinking and say it like I mean it and do nothing. Nothing good can come from obsession. Say I'll wait and walk on ahead. I should have waited...

I speak out against what is held as truth. 6 days to be billions and billions. You interpreted much wrong. Some things I can not accept...

Vengeance is my cause. To win I will take the shortest and the bloodiest route. None are spared from my anger. From my mouth comes a double-edged sword. I will destroy everything and destroy myself...

PLEASE READ THIS

We don't talk anymore... We used to, but now? Now there is a comment here and there, a picture to remind ourselves what the other looks like, and sometimes a call or text. When we meet in town it's brief and we are surrounded by others so there is no chance for a meaningful conversation. Do we know each other anymore? Did we ever? We are so similar in many ways and very different in others. Your heart yearns for a different place than mine. But the connection will not be broken so easily, yet there is a type of separation between us. When I see you I want to hug you tightly so you know I've missed you, so you know that we're still friends but just a little better than that. I love to read your writings and poems. I keep up with them and there is not one I haven't read.

The time we spend together is not enough. It's a short "Hello" and go. I want to go to lunch, or something, with you so we can catch up and I can see how you're doing. I want to know what troubles you and what your plans are. I want to talk like we used to. I'd share my thoughts and you'd share yours. Not over computers or whatever, face to face. Heart to heart. I want that.

But that's what it is; a want. It is not a need. It never will be. But if it was it wouldn't be special. I don't need to see you more but I want to from the bottom of my heart. I don't like spending time with a lot of people, even those in town. The 'acquaintances'. But I treasure every moment I'm with you. Those times are when I am most happy because I know I am sitting with some one I could know for eternity and never grow bored of or grow less fond of. You are one of a select few that I can truly call Friend. You are very special to me and I miss you. When I'm alone my mind wanders back to you and I smile. Memories flow back of the good times we have had together and I sometimes laugh out loud.


Sorry to get all soppy and shit. Much of this is emasculating but I don't really care. I don't know how to say it any better. But it could have been said worse, if that's any consolation...

Running conflict

Here we go again. The conflict that arises every now and then is, you guessed it, back. What is my conflict? I'll never tell. Not unless you ask real nice. And even then I'll hesitate.

Fork in the Road

I walk a road that has high walls of fickle roses.
A path that widens only to thin up ahead.
Never consistent,
With smooth slabs one time
And rocky trails the next.
Every now and then a golden path will lead away
To join with another road.
There I see no high walls,
No threatening thorns.
Like lying on a lush moor in midsummer with a lover
It is easy and filled with green grasses.
It is calm and bathed with sun.
Every now and then I'll wrestle with myself
If I should take the path.
But the road I walk is needy.
And the road I walk is strong.
Or is it just my weakness that keeps me in these walls?
I trudge along
A long road winding.
I sing to lessen reality
As I know this road is wrong.

--------------------------------

What I want is something new that's something old that's something gold that needs renewed.

--------------------------------

I'm suffering for this lack of sleep, but insomnia won't go away. Penance, perhaps? But, what did I do wrong again? I predict that it is for something I will do rather than what I have done. My own conscience attacking me to get it over with and do the deed already. But it's hard. I had it, you know. It was done. But second chances don't seem to have a limit. I just keep giving them. After cheating, slander, blame, hate, arguing, drunken lies, cheating, silence, I just keep giving them. My acts of forgiveness have over shadowed the need for fair justice. And it is I who suffers. But I do not kill this beast because I will feel bad and empathetic in it's suffering. In my domestication I have become soft...

Insight.

I am a romantic. Yet romance is tragedy. Isn't it?

See. Perceive. React.

Look around. What do you see? Don't say to me you see trees, people, cities, streets! Don't make yourself look like a fool! What do you see? Yes, you who reads this. This is a question directed at YOU. Do you see a place you love to be in or a room where you have too much pain painted in to the walls? Have you laughed more than cried there? Are you just passing through? Is this your writing spot? The place where you prey, perhaps? Take this time to remember. Remember what, you think? Remember everything and anything. Let the feelings of your memories flow back. Do you feel pain? Joy? Contentment? Lust? Do you feel saved? Alive? Outcast?
If you are alone, ask yourself out loud "Do I see what is really here?" Go on, do it. If you don't then stop reading this and go away, I will not be mindlessly humoured.

"Do I see what is really here?" You can see with your eyes. You can register that you are in a room. Well done to you. But do you have the awareness to see the surroundings of your circumstances and your life? Can you see that people love you when you are down and out? Can you see that you may not be understood in many ways but that you are always loved? Can you see that when you are running your mouth off that you can hurt a person so very easily? You can build and break with your words, far more easily than you think. Can you see that you are blocking out the truth because it will hurt too fucking much? Can you admit that? Can you accept it? Will you accept it? Can you see that fear keeps you here and pride walls you up? Can you see that you are special? All who are reading this are special. Please see that. So many go through life with the thought that they are a clone of a clone. Unremarkable and grey. Do not be one of those people. See with your mind. Perceive your actions. React with your love.

If you plead for an action, take the action in to your own hands and do something about it yourself. If you wait for someone to act then they will never act. If you take action you inspire others to do so. See that fear keeps you here and pride walls you up. For every action there is action. For every silence there is silence.

Stalker

This insanity was born from fear.
Lack of reasoning that seemed so clear.
Paranoia made you run from here.
Don't look back as he snaps at your heels.
You will die if he catches you, I warn you.
The Hound of Hell and Doom.
Unseen to them,
Real to you,
Locked inside this surreal cocoon.

This calamity was steeped in madness.
Minds illusion formed convincing anguish.
Venom flowing through your veins to vanquish.
Feel the cold creep in.

Destroyer.
Silent in the wilderness.
Covered in a grayish mist.
Stalking over shadowed hills.
Wolf.

Night or day, I'm still damned.

Are you happy now? Are you really? Of course you're not, why would you be? You're not you. You're not free. Free. Freedom. That's all you think about. Looking to the future when the present falls to shit. Your freedom is just an excuse, isn't it? Is it? But let's change the subject matter. A broken record is boring to listen to and your public awaits! Baying hounds. Crash. Crash your life just to see the wreckage. Just to see what it would be like. Fall to drugs and the women you dream about and the ones who are real. They hurt more. But why bother? You're going to die alone, aren't you? Are you? Be born alone, live with mannequins, die alone. What's so great about this, anyway? But you're alive right? Wrong. You're dead. Inside, I mean. Hard to smile every day when you're crying at home, or inside. Your only escape is music and you're not even that good. More of a torture, really. Really? You know what kills you. You're not an addictive personality. Not with drugs, drink, TV, power, fags, nothing. Well... Except women. But I'm right. Right? It's your blessing but it is most definitely your curse. They're all beautiful, wonderful, magnificent creatures. They are not appreciated enough. They are abused too much. Ignored. Slandered. Degraded. Everything. Make them all happy. Make them all smile. Who cares if they like you, as long as they like themselves? But you do. You care. Too much. Some more than others. Some you shouldn't and do. Some you should and don't. It's hard to be content when you're empty. It's hard to feel alive when you're dead. But it's their smiles... Gets you every time. Some more than others. Some that shouldn't and do. Some that should and don't. A few you think you've loved. You say you won't again. It's hard to say that lie. You're not a lire because it hurts when you do. But you do. It's hard to sleep when you're doomed. The sun brings day and day brings death. It'll be nice to die when you do. Maybe you'll meet God? Sometimes you like to pray:

'I pray to thee that in my sleep I will not dream, I will not speak but grant to me Eternal Peace and end my life to set me free.'

There it is. Freedom...

Are you happy? Are you really?

"No. And I haven't been for a very long time..."