Is This Forever

Crucify my love
If my love is blind
Crucify my love
If it sets me free
Never know Never trust
"That love should see a color"
Crucify my love
If it should be that way

Sound Break

It's been forever!

What with work bogging me down, lots of work, work, work and working to get this and that, this and that, managing problems, more work on this and that, staying fit, whoa.

Plus im freaking tired. I've spent almost two days just sleeping. Just sleeping. That's all.

Ok, I wanna keep it short and simple, cause there was only one purpose I decided to post something today. And that's......................................................

IRONMAN!

Best Week Of Our Lives!

Ohhhh...
Makes me wanna dance
Ohhhh...
It's a new romance
Ohhhh...
I look into your eyes
Ohhhh...
Best years of our lives!




True, its the best year, rather the best week of my life! Why? I'll tell you when i've recovered from the joy! Hahaha!





Y E E E E E E H A A A A W!

Foolish Games

All I could do was stare.



Troy walked up to me,
"She's still here, everywhere."

"It's hard Troy, I don't want her gone like this, I don't."


I felt the tears swell up, the rain pelted softly on my cheeks. People stared at me, what ran through their minds evaded me. I closed my eyes and all I could see was her smilng her last smile, her eyes deep set with its mysterious emotions that eluded me, yet played with me joyfully. The way her eyes locked onto mine, expecting me to hold her in my arms and whisper to her how much I loved her.

Never. Not anymore.


"She loved you the most of all of us J, love her, always, she'd want that."

"She took it Troy, I don't want her to give it back, it's hers for all time, i'll always be hers."



He smiled, I cried, he patted my back while I stood there holding her memories so tight it tore me apart.


I'll always love you.....

Hide

How many times do you see him smile like this?

Where do you see his real self intertwined with his music?

And from 'Kurenai'.

God, he's so beautiful.

Love you Hide.....

Starting Over

We're starting over
Its not that far
Just till October
Shot in the car

Rumours on edge
It's you that I need
Standing on the ledge
Desperate to feed

Just a little kiss
We'll have fun
I'll never miss
Where else can you run?

In time you'll learn
Don't try to hide
Your body'll burn
What kills you is pride

Dress

"Together as one?"
"Against all others!"

That's Marilyn Manson and Evan Rachel Wood in his new music video, 'Heart Shaped Glasses'.
The fact they're both together is, I have to admit, rather weird, but kind of sexy in it's own way. I've always had the image that Evan was a person who wanted to send out a message to the world, what with her roles in movies like '13', 'Pretty Persuasion' etc. Maybe they are a good match, I love them both.

Let's just see how long it'll last.





For now, live it out in sex, blood and passion.

Harry

Who knows, Harry's hot and all that
He's got the whole town in a sweat
But just for tonight, he, my man, let kitty sleep on his lap
Sometimes all we need, is a simple pat on the back
We'll be arguing about this, tit for tat
Non stop till we get a well deserved slap
I noticed the tons of humanology fat
But the brain surpassed all thats fact
It's a plenty, more than ears and a year till we get on that jet
Simple mentality, we've got pride sitting on us, a big floppy hat
Utter damnation, what will we ever get
Friends, foes alike, splitting, running round like a rat
I tell you, we'll definitely wipe it off the map
Once it's laid, oh so sweet, my gentle little trap
Tomorrow morning it's fishing, set
Coins and notes, it's a bet
For sure, silly weather, it'll be wet
I'm pretty damn sure i'll be where its at
But still Harry's hot and all that
Cause hes got Lisa hopping mad

Deep Red

I could not to look back, you'd gone away from me
I felt my heartache, I was afraid of following you
When I was looking the shadows of the wall
I started running into the night to find the truth in me

TNT

Saw a shooting star last night.

The back hurt, guess it's normal.
Hours before, had a spin at Suntec. Playpen and Timemachine got me hooked, eventual result? Purchased 2. One's customed made, the other just Evan. They have names, all of them, so far there's 4, the customized one has to be given a name, just haven't come to it yet. Maybe Chang, haha.
Evans uni color just hits off on the shelf and though it's weird, I like him better than 'Chang'.



Greens almost gone, but hey, he owes me money.
Plus tattoo is here. Small, but obvious, as I experienced yesterday.

Current song: Scorpions - Always Somewhere

If I told you what I am, I would no longer be beautiful. I keep the deadliest of secrets in me, a smile for you but wicked. It's evil I warned you, but I can only crave for you more. I think alone, feed alone, listen, surrounded by nothing. Yet I have you, dying in my arms, it's ever more peaceful.

Your'e alive.

Teardrop [2]

19.44 pm.


It wasn't dark; it wasn't bright either. Twilight, it created an eerie atmosphere, made his skin crawl. The nagging fact that he was alone yet not really alone bugged him. He could smell them, hear them, faintly, not distinct enough to divert his attention. But he knew, they were somewhere.

It was somewhat like witching hour, a long shadow here and there, threatening to hide the deadliest of threats, them. No bag with him. He carried tons of pouches, packs, they gave him pockets aplenty for anything, everything. The heavy piece of technological metal felt good, suprisingly warm to the touch. It was most probably from his tension, alertness. The dual vests he wore clamped tight to his chest, his every breath lifting it slightly, steady breathing.

The walk was tormenting, 15 clicks to nowhere. He just walked. He knoew the streets well, though it differed from the view in a vehicle.
He wondered.....

"Are they alright?"
"Are they, alive?!"

Pray. Mind open. There!

He dropped to the ground. Slowly he moved, crawled. Alert. Position?

"It's ok, covered."

He counted them...

"1. 4. 15....32, 33."

33 in all. Could he? He looked at his surroundings, there were none he could see, but they could very well, be all over the place. After all, who survived this hell? No one he knew. No one.
Could he? Should he? He had tons of magazines, he just might be able to.....

Fuck it.

Cock. Safety off. Fine tuning. Goggles down. Equipment check. Turned on the scope. Breathed slowly. Fingered the trigger, power. In position, slowly, slowly, confidently, then......

They sounded horrible when they began to die. They couldn't see him of course. The moved around in crazed circles, he just took them out one by one. Take your time, focus, watch your back, watch your back. Steady, concentrate, back, front, back, front.
They saw him. They weren't brought back to life for nothing, they could just sense it. He steadily slung the rifle. Got up to kneeling, reached for the other. Plenty of mags left, but no hero here. Take it easy. Steady.

Cock. Safety off. No need tuning, just look, aim and wait for beauty.

It sickened him, but he didn't really have a choice.


What's next?

Lovelorn

You are a wandering shining star
You light up the sky you take me so far
One crystal inside my lonely heart
You light up my life I embrace your light
You're my healer
I am lovelorn
In the cool breeze I hear your sweet voice
I'm your treasure
I am forlorn
In the rain
I feel your warm tears


I can't forgive God and myself
I should have been there to
Give you strength
One kingdom below the dark blue sea

Leaves' Eyes
Lovelorn

Mael

I stepped out of the house.....

No, let me go further back.



I picked up Anne Rice's 'The Vampire Lestat' a few weeks back. I read it in my own solemn world, taking in every word and detail. She has her way with writing.
Today. I hit the last hundred pages of the book. Lestat begins to question eternity and somehow or rather the 'good' in the world and our very existence. Let it be clear that the fact he is a vampire and the fact they dont exist is too true and eagerly accepted by me. I would like to make it known to my readers that it's not the supernatural, not the undead, or whatever you may think that might have affected me. It was based purely on how our thinking so happened to be alike.
Now, i've read her books many times. I've brought up issues, paragraphs and descriptions shes written to christians and found that their answers did not satisfy me. In this manner, I am somewhat like Lestat. An eagerness, almost revolting, so fiery it burns madly. Always wanting to know more, finding answers everywhere, unsatisfied and unconvinced that there was no answer.
As I read the book, nearing the end I realised she was answering my every dark question, making more real the horror that i've kept so deep in me, making me realise, it could be true.



That there was so much more to everything we all know, but we just can't seem to get to it.



It made me afraid, very afraid. My whole system of belief collapsed, I didn't know what to think.
Why? What are the things that made me so?
The emptiness of loneliness, the devasting pressure of love, the insane notion that you are the only one that holds so much in their mind, the painful sorrow of knowing there are no more suprises to/in life anymore, the increasing doubt that the angels and devils are real, that there are only powers in the world and neither one of them could be real, that your lives and mine are controlled by something we can't see, touch or hear, that everything done and said was by someones design.
How can one be so sure? I once believed, or should I say, I still have hope that there is something more, but where.....
A believer said, "I should have faith."

Crumbling now. I cannot simply put in words like how Anne Rice has done. To address the readers:

Vampires are good for nothing. Fashion, yes, maybe, who wouldn't want to be like them. But have you thought of how and what they think about? The blood? Please. That's for kids.


THEY QUESTION GODS EXISTENCE AND THAT'S WHAT I'M DRIVING AT!

Why is love so hard to find? Twice it has eluded me. I do not speak of the love of a woman or a man, but the love of understanding. Why are you so predictable? Why are we following a routine even you yourselves do not know about, but it can be so obvious to me? Why do you disgust me with your reasoning and your utterly pathetic ways? Why do your emotions make me smirk? Your increased effort at trying so hard to prove yourself to the world, they are fruitless, why? Why are there so few answers to the millions i've asked throughout my life? Why are they not answered? Is there nothing else in this world? Are there no answers? Why I love you all yet hate the way you present yourself? That I have given up hope in finding the perfect one for me to spend my eternity enraptured in your beautiful incantations of understanding? Is this what you have all come to? Stupidity and insffucient intelligence? That you're so shallow, that you possess so little knowledge of the world you live in? That there is so much confusion and doubts you cannot discern for yourself which is right and which is wrong? Why is your understanding of everything that surrounds you so hastily put together?


Is there no one? No one in this world that can come to me and tell me what's in my heart? What torments me night and day? This madness that never stops?
Anne Rice did it. She took my soul right out of me and put it in words I can never repeat.
It scares me, it horrifies me, it makes things that aren't supposed to be real, come to life.

Doubts that make your world smaller and smaller. It changes everything.

Is there really no one that understands all this?

This Is Where It Starts

They asked me.
They saw it in me.

Though they didn't know what.
Who would want to know?

They saw the darkness, the desperation in my eyes. I've read it over and over. Listened to it over and over. Seen in over and over. Crazed myself with questions, thoughts, thoughts that torment me day in, night out, ever repeating itself. The dark songs you say means nothing, the thick aged books you say are fiction. Who cares about what's really in it?

Say it. It's not the power or the immortality. It's the pain of the questions asked that are so cunningly similar. The consistent throb of imagination. What really lies beyond all this?

Why are we so different? How can our minds be so vast, filled, overflowing with images of distrust and amazement?
Some part of me is pure evil, and I embrace it. Some part of me is pure good, but how are we to live among everyone else if we do not possess the knowledge of evil? I take part it it. The reflection in the mirror, a face of hatred, it's not who I recognize.
I question the existence of god, of satan, of every living power said to have a hand in our lives, why? Why do we feel so much from others and are tortured daily to keep our thoughts to ourselves?

The sight of everyone is a sad memory of life repeating itself, over and over, the same result, the same response. No suprises, no accidents.

Just human.

Teardrop

He was thinking about her.



Worst time for it, but nevertheless, how could he not? She was so far away, could he do anything about it? God. What's happened to the world.

Deserted.
Eaten alive.
Brought back from the dead.
Roaming freely.
Savaging, ravaging, destroying what was left of mankind.
Utter disgust.

I was alone. We all were.

He had to go back home, had to see what fate his family had suffered; though he already knew, he just had to see it for himself.
It's already been 3 days.

3 eternal days of terror, horror and unnatural insomnia. It won't end would it?

"No, it won't."

Obvious, he already knew, but tried desperately at hope to give him hope. No such luck.
Her again. Her beauty, her hair, her fear. Her sisters and friends. What happened to them? Were they alive?
Was it.........love?

Lust.
No!
Passion.
Maybe, just maybe.
Emotion unknown?
Defintely.
He just wanted to see her again, wanted to be near her. Her family that meant so much to him. The only family he knew that gave him a feeling he had so long ago lost.
Yes, he loved them as sisters. The youngest of them so young, so...
Innocent.



He had to get them out.

Whatever it takes.

Execution

Connor: Now you will receive us.
Murphy: We do not ask for your poor, or your hungry.
Connor: We do not want your tired and sick.
Murphy: It is your corrupt we claim.
Connor: It is your evil that will be sought by us.
Murphy: With every breath we shall hunt them down.
Connor: Each day, we will spill their blood till it rains down from the skies.
Murphy: Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal, these are principles that every man of every faith can embrace.
Connor: These are not polite suggestions, these are codes of behavior and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost.
Murphy: There are varying degrees of evil, we urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over, into true corruption, into our domain.
Connor: For if you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three. And on that day, you will reap it.
Murphy: And we will send you to whatever god you wish,

Shadow Sung

There is nothing left
I, we are alone
I
We
Stand strong
Yet, alone
Who are we?
A question thrown back into my memory,
Who, are you?
Where are you?
Look around you
Where are you when time now screams for you most?
Where am I in this ungodly madness
Alone
Alone
I stand alone wielding strengths given to me by my kin
My kin
Bloodied and dead
Torn and scattered
Smashed and buried
Cursed and forgotten
But forever beside me
Behind me
My strength
My freedom
Who are you?
Lady of mystery
I'm standing alone
I face oblivian, alone
Are you with me?
Always?
Are you really here?
I feel you, I hear you
Come with me.....
Come..........







I run. I roar. I am mad with hatred.
With anger.
I fight for victory, for my wife, my home.
For the future, for words whispered in my ear before I could begin to comprehend.
For my King, for my land.
For my heart, my soul.
For honour, for freedom.
For a world ripped in two, for hope...
Someday you will remember what we have done, we stood by our words, our actions.
Remember me, Mother of Mercy, Goddess of Love and Virtue.
Remember us, those who laid down their lives.
That I, the last and only died bravely for meaning and understanding, for a belief in you.
That I prayed for justice and peace, fought with passion and love.
I believe in you.....




Orius Kryptos
2020BC

4th Morning

Would I die in peace?
Can I?
If I did not feel the way i've felt
How I am
Where I should be
Is here, with you
I can't, I cannot
If I could just hear
Whisper in my ear
Tell me, enrapture me
Must I?
Weep, pray and hope
Nothing more I could ever want
You beside me
Yet
You are no more
Only the quiet breeze
The sweet reminder of October rain
Lost, long before we
Could ever be
Leave me
Love me
Cherish me



My love...

Vacum Drill

Read once:

'You can tell what a guy is like by his underwear.'


Whoa. In camp, there's a ton of underwear. Beautiful and disgusting alike.
Well, it's been forever since i've come back on the com, work and things held me up. Been lots of changes, turnabouts and dramatic nonsense, so i'll update when it comes to mind.




Or when it seems good.

La I Gras Na

The sweat ran down his hard war torn face. The blood thickened, cracked and sore.

He stared at the vast plain. For miles, miles without an end, men were scattered everywhere. The silence defeaned him, the gentle rush of wind blew in his face. Oblivion, death, victory and sorrow. Where else would he find such a memory?
They stood silent behind him. He knew they were with him to whatever end. He looked up, towards the heavens. Touching his forehead, his heart, he kissed his fingers. He kneeled on the ground, listening for an answer, 'What must I do? What can any man do?'


He prayed, his undying faith in the Gods tested and ripped apart, tested again. The Gods held their peace, watching him from afar, giving him hope, but no answer.


Oh Goddess of mercy,
Hear me now
Here, at the end of my time
What grace that was given me
Let it pass over us
Empower us with your love
Give us hope
Give us peace
Give us our children
Give us strength
Do not turn away from me
God, have mercy on us

Help us......




Tears streaked down his face, dripping onto the hard dry sand. His soul tortured by weariness, by war and by evil. Where would this end? When?


She answered him, ever so beautifully, a voice that whispered sweetly with the cool breeze, a gift from nowhere...


'E aemi, ho-ar hir neh. Ai-rohai eo naha-ime, bistru ana hai. Menoleh anorai kiana, sie ahneir.'
'Be calm, be not afraid. For I am with you, beside you. Be strong my king, for me.'




For peace, for mankind, for glory, for the world.

For love.....


He turned to look at his men one last time, then ran towards the darkness..........

Levithon's Red Memory

The deaf and dumb man sat in his persian chair. The blind idiot sat on a wooden stool, his back broken.


"Did you see that sunset? I see it in my eyes. But I can't see the sun shine."


The voice whispered in the blind mans ear,


"What did you really see then?"
"I don't know....."



The deaf and dumb man sat there, his eyes opening wide as he saw them coming nearer. It was a vast plain of sand and heat. No one around. Just the two of them in history.
But the third clad in silky black, his long cloak waving behind him, humming, his eyes closed.

They would be taken away. Somewhere safe for them. The blind can see but can't walk. The deaf can hear but can't feel. The dumb can talk but can't move.

The moment was silent as their figures shackled closer to where they sat. The blackness wove a guitar made out of hair, he plucked the strings softly, still, ever so madly humming the sweet, dark lullaby.





Sit here beside me
Till nothing I see
Whisper, just whisper to me

Find me oh find me
Come here and save me
Listen, don't leave me
Stay here and teach me

You won't come back here
There's nothing to hear
It's dark and that's all that I fear

Till then, be here
Calm, sweet, just lay here
Then i'll follow
Hear the meadow
Stay here
I'm going away.....

We Watched Through Double Circles

And each strand of her hair is really insect eyes
And each hole in her tongue is always occupied
By the milk of the sun

And each hair on her head is fields of gold wheat
And i'm lying on my back
And i'm falling asleep

And each lash in her eye in really white roots
And each line in her skin is really red roots

And the neck her head's on is a tunnel of dawn
But darkness will come
For sure, it's gonna come

And the breast on her chest is where I take my rest
Is where I have my fun

And the one long red nail that shoots from her toe
Is tickling my blood
And shifting its flow

And each strand of her hair is really insect eyes
And each hole in her tongue is always occupied
By the milk of the sun

And i'm always late, 'ways late
Yeah, i'm always late

And your black two lips of time
And your hands rejoice in mine
And that seed, it grows all day
And that seed, it grows all night
And our veins are intertwined







We dragged her all the way. Her pitiful moans, her muffled pleas for help, screams for mercy, who would want to listen? Where were we? Nowhere. Everywhere. Somewhere, somewhere she didn't want to be, but we were where she was, this place where no one wants to be. Sat her up on the chair, her hands were tied, her hair brownish, lush in the evening sun. Her eyes filled with fear, wide open, tears, dirty strains on her tanned face. She didn't want this, I did. What else was there to do? Stare blankly into dark skies looking for miracles, screaming in pain, burying the sickness inside. Her body bare, she was dirty, bloody. He grabbed her hair, screams, her last plea. Looking at her, like how a mother would a baby, slowly, so softly pressing the blade into her soft, heavenly body. How sharp it was, how easy. Sliting her open from her bossom down, her blood flowed with such grace. Her tears, her eyes, as she watched her life ebb away from her. Moving closer to her, my lips brushed hers, a gentle kiss. I embraced her as she faded away, bleeding till there was no breath left to take. She felt better lifeless than alive and warm. Yes, cold and unmoving. How passionate our lives are led.

Beauty is still; death.

A two walked away. She, another joined us hand in hand. It's only another day, that's for tomorrow to bring happiness.



If only we were somewhere else..........

The Huns

"Always remember now kid, it's not about where you go or if go or not. It's about how you go. Understand?"

"Where are we going now?"


If only the young one could understand. Trapped behind hard, warm wood, looking desperately around for answers.


"You'll see, don't worry..."


Their sets beeped on and off, distorted voices echoing through the corridor. He shouldn't have brought the kid. What was he thinking? Jesus...
Turning back, he shoved the kid under the bed.


"Whatever happens, keep very quiet, you hear? Be a good boy now, once it's all over, we'll get out and get away from here."


The boy nodded his ead earnestly.
He waved the boy deeper under the bed.

He walked closer to the door. By then, the gas had almost completely fogged the room. He turned the handle, the door made a soft click...
Then, he waited.......







It's the good ones that find themselves here, sand and shingles, walls and undead silence.

Isaac

The week had so much in store.


The gun feeling cold in my hands, the metal, slippery. Looking at the winding staircase, the gunman waited. Commands ran through my head, I needed a second guy at my back, the moment played slowly, saw their mouths open, shouting at me to hurry up, to get moving. The weapon just felt heavier, almost slipping from my hands. The gunman, his weapon trained on me, his finger reaching for the trigger, a little more and it would be over.

But where was I?

I wasn't even there. All thatI felt was the emptiness of the moment. Would it be like this, exactly like this if I came to this point? Where would my mind be? Where would my heart lead me? What would it say to me when I needed it most to be steady?

There was a flash, my eyes blinked. I felt the hard impact on my chest, I felt my body fall backwards. I saw myself fall. Dropping down the flights of stairs. Hands flailing, trying to grab anything that came into contact. Was this me? I looked familiar. Settling down at the foot of the staircase, I looked beautifully calm, no more the heavy heaving of my chest as I tried to breathe before. I lay still, quiet, my eyes were closed. The others gathered around me, while others pushed their way up, blasting the stairs, not caring where their rounds fell, just to blast away in anger and desperation. The wall stained slightly from the wound, my body slumped, a still memory. My last thoughts as I looked at myself was.....


...this will always be what I am.

A year or two later, there would be a screen. A man sitting on a chair, holding his head in his hands, as always. An option to start, to end, or just to sit there and enjoy what the menu played. A soft mandolin, a whispering 12 year old girl that sang Ave Maria for me.

Cheap Shot

The bat didn't make the difference. Who knows what did.

Walking in that morning, whether it felt right or wrong, it never felt good. Who knew what the day held for him? More torture? More singled out criticisms? Forever in the waiting, but when?
It sucked to be stucked.
But just a little more than that, what he had that morning stuffed in the bag and in the tiny pocket to his right, yeah, that was something he'd been holding on to for dear pathetic life.


No, it wasn't always going to be like this.

Not always...?

Return

If you've watched it over and over, there would've been a message.




The mornings awake, the evenings fall. It's been hard, it's been smooth.
Who is Superman? One of us? You? Anyone.
Working in camp put me far and wide from the outside world, saw it differently. Deniably, one of the worst impressions when hardly a soul gets you. Laughs in the bunk, the quiet moments spent inhaling poisonous fumes, listening to the blasts a stone throw away, not much comes to mind, except what the rest of the day holds for you. A train ride back and it's not so much as it really was. In, you wish you were out. Out, you wish you right back in, grovelling on the floor, staring at your sinews, if you had had the vision, trembling, screaming for "Time-Out!". Minds can't be made up that easy.
After such a long time, it's a tingling funny that touches me every now and then, no kick here and there. I could've looked to you for many a thing....


But who needs a saviour when the saviour is just somewhere else, doing their own thing.....