I am complete, and so are you. We are two perfect little creatures on an insignificant planet out in the galaxy, chained to our grounds by imaginary concepts created by imperfect old creatures. Our timelines run parallel on different 3D planes. Our motive is clear, our propose is irrelevant, we’re not here to become one, we’re here to become two.
We are complete.
H.Q.
2:46
Thursday, 5 March 2015
Their skeletons were found
In the rotten old ground
Of the basement of Freijfejdvejfl
We sent them back home
To the library’s dome
With the gnome Chrjsfeijtjfeskneffl
But due to a sudden stop
And a buggy drag and drop
Of Chrjsfeijtj’s hand device
There’s been a grave mistake
For the skeleton of Jake
Had magically arrived twice.
Now Jake has a twin.
Now Jake IS the twin.
Too bad Jake is dead.
Thus Jake has set a fire
To the house which he admires
The House That Jake Burned
This Moroccan-French girl from Annaba, the way I held her hand and pulled her away from the graffiti-stained darkness, I could feel the electricity running throughout my veins, and for the first time in my life I wasn’t shy, worried, hesitant or afraid, it just felt right, and I knew it was, from the smile I saw shining in her eyes.
It was only the second time we meet, but that moment I had to admit to myself that, maybe after all, I had my charm.
Hastily we gathered the scattered bills of whatever it was that had to be paid, I wanted to kidnap her away from this desert maze, I wanted to pay it all though I knew I had no money, but then that was the only way we could be free.
Two police men stopped us and questioned us about who we were and what we were doing in the dark alleys of Paris at this late hour; I was an artist, she had the soul of one, and she wandered the nights looking for spare change and a free bite to eat, but somehow now they disappeared and we were back running with a smile larger than the walls around us and the streets under our feet, and the warmth coming from her cold hand crawled through my nerves and set my heart on a fire I didn’t feel since the departure of my queen of sand.
I had to wash my face, I could no longer breathe, she was still there, holding my hand, staring into my eyes, waiting for me to fall into my final sleep.
But then I inhaled one more breath and she was gone, I opened my eyes and everything disappeared, then darkness fell again and I fell into another trap, I tried to write down her name, tried to write down the memories, but the pen was broken and every blot of ink became a cloud of smoke from another explosion, I wrote down the names and the stories but they all came to an end, they were traces of burning oil dripping from a burning military convoy, as I was chained to a weird machine in my old home’s kitchen, and I was questioned, and I was tortured, and I was raped, all in the presence of a fat Russian General, he wouldn’t let me go until her memory was gone.
But her memory still lives. And one day, we will meet again.
H.Q.
13:52
Monday 04/08/2014
Ever had to carve out a piece of your heart and set it on the shelf, until its rightful owner comes back from the dead.
This isn’t for you, but it’s in your memory, for I have waited for you, and I have waited for them, but for her I shall wait until the end of time.
Happy birthday.
She recognised my face from a dream gone past, I knew her name and she knew mine. She promised we will meet again, and left me awake with a tearful smile.
I sat and tried to recollect the scattered sheets of my absent mind, in each of which I saw myself; a dreamer lost in faded greys, a barefoot king of a no man’s land, a monoprint of a no-one’s verve, a vagrant ghost in seas of sand.
I’m never hers, nor is she mine, yet I await her dream incarnate, for the wind that blew away her trace, is the storm to bring our sought out fate.
H.Q.
03:32
Thursday
24/04/2014
Black gods, black thugs,
Black dogs, black knaves
Eating the flesh of the frail in their caves
Black wings of black seraph
Black words in black staves
Are chanting thy murder, thy blood she doth crave
Black hearts of black widows,
Black wrath in black waves
Of inner cries—gone silent—outbursts in the grave
Black eyes in the burrows
Black tears of the brave
Black barrels from heaven, for those whom God saves
Black gods, black flags,
Black wolves in conclaves
Have turned this my Eden into a godless enclave
H.Q.
22:28
Saturday
19/04/2014
I’m looking for a face, a face that I know well, a face that I lost and can’t be complete without. I’m looking for a face behind which lies a different soul. A face at which sight my whole existence ceases, and with a look from them eyes returns from the dead.
I’m looking for you, whom I cannot call, for I know not your name.
H.Q.
18:50
14/04/2014
I want to fly… I need to fly… I’ll be the second of the three, and in endless skies we’ll hunt, we’ll kill, and as one we’ll die.
A squadron of mad dogs; nameless, faceless, known not by a given number, like you all are, but by the number of lives we harvest, the number of rockets fired and rockets hit, the number of seconds before impact, and the seconds left before our one last collision…
Alpha to Charlie, Bravo is down… I repeat, Bravo is down…
Everything makes sense to me except myself, and that, by itself, doesn’t make sense at all. After all, I was only made to fail, so others can follow suit.
I need a wench to cleanse my mind from all that once mattered, to show me that all that I bled is but a dry a rust on the desert sand. Let the unclean skin of the abused purify your rotten soul, let her false moans unite with your silenced curses, let her scars heal you, as her bare sweating flesh strips you of your alleged virtues. Close your eyes and feel her claws sink deeper into your chest, as the sound of her fluttering wings echoes inside your lungs, let her blood-sweet whisper read you your final verse, as her lonely semen-stained kiss puts you to one last sleep.
And there, my friend, at the end of all that ever ends, you’ll find the answer to all that you never asked, and you will find me; the one, the none, the neither and the never, you’ll find the whole and the all together, you’ll find the I, you’ll find the why, you’ll find the who, the nil; the you.
H.Q.
23:41
SUN|24|NOV|2K13
Rip this heart and take me away
To a somber place where silence plays
A dismal hymn, a song for the deaf
A requiem for a yesterday
H.Q.
22:26
Monday
11/11/2013
It’s a Hell in a cell in a dark beehive
Off a mislaid scroll of a timeless curse,
Where we all breathe yet none of us lives,
Where we all strive for a common cause;
For a common pain,
For a common end,
For slaves to be born,
For slaves to be killed,
For a son of a God,
For a drunken king,
For a queen to be fed,
For a rite of a ring,
For a lair of an heir no longer there,
For a fear of a war with a next of kin,
For a gasp of air in the underground,
For the sound of a round shattering your chin,
For the ones who dare,
For the no-one there,
For the lost,
For the ghost under your skin,
For the vows we broke,
For the smiles we choked
With lies which spoke inherited sin,
For the light that’s gone,
For the stolen Sun,
For dreams on the run which shan’t give in,
For a call I heed in a time of need
For the words I bleed, I weave and spin
For a certain fall, once and for all,
For the worms in a hole, for the worms within.
H.Q.
20:17
SUN|3|NOV|2013
My heart is black like a starless night
Like a zero-kelvin satellite
Like an alpha male
Squelching with a veil
A Saudi girl who has no rights
H.Q.
21:41
Wednesday, 23 October 2013
I think I’ve lost my sanity
I think I’ve lost my mind
I’ve lost the man I never were
And killed my inner child
The only string that’s still attached
Is a highwire to a cloud
Is a silken thread to a dungeon
Is a dead root in the ground
Is a silver-wound for a violin
That plays without a sound
One thousand songs of madness
One thousand blood-red shrouds
I think I’ve lost my sanity
I think I’ve lost my pride
I’ve lost my inborn dignity
In none do I confide
These human shades no longer speak
Their veils no longer hide
Whatever lies beneath the skin
Whatever dies inside
The screeching cries beseeching God
For a tender suicide
Are falling deaf on the ears of the one
Our lord of genocide
I think I’ve lost my sanity
I think I’ve lost my guide
I’ve lost my words, my memories
My path to grace denied
Three headless angels leading mutes
Of myriad headless hounds
Are gone adrift, are gone astray
They’re marching by my side
As headless ravens flying low
Black feathers, spanning wide
They seal the sky and steal my sight
And crown me; I, The Blind
H.Q.
02:36
Monday, 21 October 2013
The mind has no integrity, for it is the great deceiver, and no matter how certain you think you are of what you sense; a lost signal, a misfired neuron or a chemical imbalance could twist your vision in an instant, planting orphaned memories in places where they should never persist, feeding off feelings which were never meant to be, and creating chain reactions of a subconscious awareness of that which shall never exist.
Trust not one, trust not any, nor yet yourself.
H.Q.
22:22
Wednesday
07/08/2013
Awaiting extraterrestrial salvation; one asteroid for a birthday wish, an astral hope for one last dream.
It’s time for the second flood, for the cleansing seas of fire, for the ultimate purgatory; it’s time for the Antichrist to rise again.
Let all the faithful, all the faithless, the knowing and the hypocrites, unite in one last tectonic dance. Let the fire from which we came, be the fire to which we end. Let us burn all our secrets, all our fears, all our delusions, hopes, lies and sorrows. Let us cry, and cry as one, for the one we ask is the one to never listen, the one to never hear, the one to never see and the one to never be.
And as we all wail and beg for salvation, there will be one; him, with his borrowed face, sitting in his corner, with his black-ash eyes burning with one last smile.
“He shall not beg or pray; he knows
The truth abstruse and nature’s laws,
He never screamed–he never will;
His eyes ablaze in the burning Hell
Are chasing down your charring shades,
Your souls engulfed in the wrath of Hades,
With an acid smile gracing his face,
For the cries you shred trek not through space.”
H.Q.
11:29
Wednesday
31/07/2013
Digging up dead memories from years past, watching smiles that have since faded, shining grey eyes that have since lost their gleam; faces, so familiar, you’d swear they were yours, you look at them now and see nothing but despair; a soul once loved, jumping, dancing, laughing…
What have they done to you? Why did you let them in? Why did you let them steal your wild, ever-singing Sun? Why did you let them suck the nectar out of your blossoming mind? Why did you let them tame you? Why did you let them harness you? Why did you hand your will to the vampires of the sunlight? Why did you give in to the mould of the stagnant slugs, feeding off your blood, suckling on your dreams and dissolving what’s left of your dignity in their million-dollar bile?
Why did you let me fail you?
Why did you let me fail…
H.Q.
21:56
Sunday,
28/07/2013
On the baleful night of June the ninth,
Ten ravens flew and croaked with blithe,
For they have known what they have done;
Their eyes ablaze in the midnight sun.
Their talons reeked the stench of crime,
Their blood-soaked beaks spoke murdered prime,
Then silence reigned and light was gone,
As drowned a star by the Fallen One.
And now forlorn are sons of man,
For a red moon shines where Sol once span.
H.Q.
20:07
Sunday
09/06/2013
A memory of a past that will never be, from the days I lived before I saw the light. I see an old future in young distant eyes, a glory of a neglected simplicity, one that we hastily threw away to earn all the lifeless plastic we smother ourselves with. I see a happiness once lain in the rays of a rising sun, between the yellow sheets of a borrowed book, and in the eyes of us; shirtless little kids playing in the mud, with a smile wider than all their highways, and hopes higher than all their towers.
As the cold, grey smile takes over, it carries the soul on a trip upon her quivering lips, bringing the heart to a shiver, and through every word she chants, the mind submits to a timeless trance, and the colder it gets, the brighter it burns within, setting all your troubled thoughts ablaze, as you sit there, still as ice, staring into the nothing, with a tameless fire burning inside your charred brown eyes.
H.Q.
13:13
Monday
27/05/2013
I am the remedy for your vicious god, I’m here to cleanse your mind and release your soul. I am the light, the saviour, the Antichrist.
I am The One, The Third and The Seventh. I am the black Sun, the red moon and the grey Earth. I am the seer, the harbinger of the unlight, the father of the wicked and the son of none.
I am the end from which they hide, I am the truth you’ll never find, I am the void of all but one, I am within; I am The Blind.
H.Q.
00:51
Monday
27/05/2013
You know how to find me, you know where to find me, all it takes is to want to.
I’ve never been yours and never will be, for I don’t believe in fairy tales. I belong to the world which aches, I belong to the ones with sorrow, I belong to those who need, and for them I live and bleed. But once my work is done, once I can no longer give, and once them eyes tell me to leave, I drag myself out of the scene and let them angels be.
It hurts to disappear, for the steps I take backwards are those onto the shattered heart of mine, but those who bleed in darkness are silenced by the night, so those who are meant to smile can dream of the world that will never be.
And there I lie in my corner, watching the world drown itself in hand-made misery, I burn my wounds and swallow the pain, wishing for this heart to die, but hoping, that before it does, I’ll see your astral smile again.
But till then, I shall keep my silence.
“And round it spins, and round it goes
Her smile through silver eyes doth shine
And down it slips, and down it falls
Into the spiral Hell of mine”
H.Q.
15:36
03/05/2013
Great… What a fucking beautiful morning, waking up to the news of Hanneman passing away…
As if his half flesh-eaten body wasn’t enough to ruin his life… It all ends now, as he rests with the worms.
Jeff, seeing you play was a dream, and now it will never be but one, what you had brought to this world has changed it, and changed us forever. And now that you’re gone, Slayer will be no more, but we swear, and the Devil be our witness, that the skies shall keep raining blood until the day we depart, for then we shall meet, south of Heaven.
R.I.P.
10:41
03/05/2013
Hell Awaits, Jeff Hanneman, Necrotizing fasciitis, Raining Blood, Reign in Blood, RIP, Slayer, South of Heaven, thrash metal
I am but a wailing wall for the broken, a bottomless well where all their pains come to vanish, all the tears they shed, all the smothered screams they fail to cry, and the shattered glass of their fragile hearts, I take it all in, as it dies within, killing a part of me as it drowns.
I close my eyes as I strip a smile off my face and redraw it on theirs, but the well is running dry…
… I’m running out of smile.
H.Q.
20:46
Sat. 30/03/2013
In the absence of sensory fulfilment, we covet the warmth of the distant hearts, sands and oceans apart, as we stare into the void of our own reflections in concrete walls and matt black doors, silencing our breath and stifling our dreams, while our minds get high on streams of words and scrambled cries of exiles; searching for a home they’ll never find, in a land that’s never theirs.
H.Q.
11:03
Sunday, 17/03/2013
Today I needed to write, not because I have a lot to say–cause I don’t, not because I need to let off steam–cause it won’t change a thing, not because I need to get my word out to the world–cause I don’t give a fuck what these monsters have to say. Today I needed to write, because the silence has turned me into the devil I always feared, because these days need to be remembered, by me, the watcher, the reader, the guardian, the amnesiac god trapped in a cage of flesh, the Antichrist defying his own fate, the speck of dust with the burden of a dying Sun, the aimless ape who cared for those who hate.
There are things you need to know, there are things you need to do, just because you’re not dead yet. I read some of your old words, I looked at your old work, I dug up the broken memories of fading souls and dead angels who once stood by your side. You were someone, you were something, you were once a promise for a Phoenix that will never rise again, you were the dream of a battle won for a shape-shifting Raven, you were an artist with a hand that drew all that once was not, and a musician that overfed the strings of a bass with the melodies of a Baroque quartet, you were a saviour, a troubleshooter, a problem solver, an adviser, an inspirer, and now I look at you…
Today I write, cause I’m struggling to find the words, I write cause I’ve grown tired of the nothingness that I’ve created around myself. I write for myself to read these my words again, then feel ashamed, then delete the page and fail myself again.
For how long is it safe to smile, while the unwept acid tears flow backwards into your core, burning all that comes their way, along with the memories, the dreams, the hopes, the plans, the screams, and the corpse of an innocence once lost.
“Nailed to a cross of my denial
Bleeding streams of guilt and shame
For I await in this my trial
When ashen crows mention my name”
H.Q.
20:49
Sunday
03/03/2013
Tied to an office armchair with your shoelaces, blindfolded with a colourful set of shapes, menus and buttons, you’re silenced with a pair of headphones, as the minutes and seconds are sucked out through your fingertips.
This is not what you signed for when you took your first breath and opened your eyes to what you thought was the planet of dreams, for it all is the same now, all the same nothing that consumes your soul and drains your day until you no longer want to feel.
And those hands, the hands that once touched more than the plastic that our modern world is made of, they miss what they were made for, they miss what they were born to do, they miss the brush and the canvas, the bow and the strings, the hammer and the shovel, the pen and the notebook, the glass and the bottle shared by a coalition of futuristic carefree maniacs, a.k.a. “Friends”.
You look around and try to understand; they do know what you can do, they do know what you’re capable of, is this why you’re asked to do the things that anyone else can do? They don’t want your change, they don’t want your advice, what they want is for you to become the product, is for you to become the machine, so they can buy more plastic phones, more plastic cars, more plastic faces and plastic hearts.
But what you don’t know is what they fear, for they may own all the arms and all the bullets, all the jails, all the tanks, the TV shows, the radio waves, the space crafts and nuclear bombs, but behind it all they hide, they hide from the one weapon they fear the most, the little intelligent mobile vehicle that is you, for once you unite the mind, the tongue and the hand, a new weapon is born, a weapon that defeats all of the world’s armies combined, a weapon that transmits its spores in a form of thought, that clones itself through sound waves and ink stains, a weapon they can never spot and never stop, a weapon of flesh, a weapon of hope, a Weapon of Mass Construction.
H.Q.
7:22:50 pm
Thursday, 14th of February 2013
This is where the ageless comes to wither, where the troubled mind comes to find its peace. This is where the angels come to perish, where wings turn to dust, and halos sear the shadowless night sky.
Amorphis, Angels, Dark, Decay, Decease, Distress, Doom, Funeral, Metal, Pasi Koskinen, Ruoja, Shape of Despair
Love is the word they say the most when they love the least, for those who truly love, are those to never speak.
H.Q.
19:18
Monday
04/02/2013
Immaculate is she, born to an earth of flesh and mud, and a sky of mist and blood, born to him of the fragile heart and to her of the fertile mind. Through the haze of her ashen eyes you see the dawn of an unborn world, for in her every blink she sends a wave of anguish to chase away the Cimmerian clouds smothering your heart. With bleeding words and a fading breath, the pain untold purifies your sinful soul, as the pouring rain from them heavenly pearls cleanses your mortal shell with an ocean of quiescent solace, leaving an eternal trail of invisible scars on your ever-lying façade.
Touched by a feather of a broken wing, you stand again and count the thorns, for the crown you wear is earned not by the blood you shed, but the blood you save, and the black of tar running through your veins shall be drained out by the smiles of those once burnt, of those once shattered, and of those once lost. Only then, the black within shall set free the light besieged, to welcome back the grey for which you yearned.
H.Q.
20:15
Sunday
03/02/2013
Once upon a time, when everything was younger, someone wanted to try my special dish of Pure Honesty™
… To Maria
Oh any time! Though I must warn you, it is sour, with a hint of colourless mushroom clouds, dream-shaped cheese and anti-viruses, best served dead with hollow raven heads and sliced brown dwarves (23-33 Mj is recommended)… Enjoy!
H.Q.
10th Aug 2011
What she replied with, is something that I no longer remember, but what I know is, it was so bright it lit a spark inside a once-infertile mind, and these lines were born:
But the sliced brown dwarves said nothing,
for they were sliced, and they were cold…
And the mistletoe is no more;
as The Grinch stole her sanity with a bat’s spinal cord…
Thus here I wait, with a box that ain’t mine,
a key that ain’t hers and an elf that ain’t there,
we look at each other and laugh as one,
for we just did what’s never been done!
The old gnome smiles, his name was “Answer”,
he loved to raise elks, he’s a hell of a dancer!
He solved the quiz and opened the box,
he didn’t need a key for he’s half an ox!
But then it happened, the secret was revealed!
The bats went slaying, their wounds cannot be healed!
I screamed and begged for the mercy of the Master,
but he just flew as he blasted into laughter!
“Oh Lord of Bats, ye Harbinger of Sin,
can’t ya save Vesper and save her elven-kin!?”…
“HOHOO HELL NO!” he jawed from outer space
“YER ON YOUR OWN, SO SHUT YER UGLY FACE!”…
So here I lie, split in half and shattered,
my blood runs dry as I think of what he’s muttered;
could it be true? Or does it really matter!?
Is it just ma face? Or am I gettin’ fatter!!
The answer to this troubling quest,
shalt not be known to man or beast,
for the jolly “Answer” ain’t no more
than half a gnome and half a feast…
H.Q.
22:40
2011 Aug 12
The nearer to my throat this world comes closing in, the deeper I breathe, and the more I see death around me, and the more I see the premonitions of failure burning brighter, the clearer this my path I see.
I won’t apologise for the dreams I chase, I won’t say sorry for the words I utter but you misunderstand, I won’t stand ashamed for I know all that you never will, I won’t step back in fear of your arrogant ignorance crushing my every plan, I won’t ask for forgiveness from a schizophrenic God who’s yet uncertain of his own fate; for my only regret is the time I listened to those who do not know, those who cannot see beyond the walls built around their minds, those who weigh not but the mere mud from which they’ve come, those who smother you with rusty chains of inherited dogmas and expired beliefs, those who would do anything and everything to keep you from being the smile you once saw on the other side.
Here’s to the ones, above and below, who saw the aura I’ve never had, who bled and wept for me to rise, who touched the beast behind the mask and deep within they carved their names, forever there, till my demise. Here my oath, and the dead be my witness, for I shall walk the path I drew, lone, firm and fearless, leaving my trail on every ground, on every wall and every heart; forever there, until the end of time.
For I only make the memory, thence it’s yours to keep.
H.Q.
IX:XIV p.m.
dies mercuri, ante diem III Nonas Ianuarius, anno MMDCCLXVI a.U.c