I think they’ve completely misunderstood the point of us “having a brain”; they’re supposed to “use” it, not deplete it by a non-ending stream of small exhaustive quests and a series of stupidly mixed error-rich signals, that’s what MACHINES are for…
Yet sometimes I wish I was one of them machines; for at least they’ll have someone to take care of them, oil the gears, clean their parts, and fix their short circuits may an idiotic user decide to use his child-like creativity and convert them into a coaster for his coke… But then I turn towards the mirror, and what my photoreceptors send back to my occipital lobe is nothing but a blurry image of a rusty broken engine…
ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:13)
A blank mind can do no good to anyone… ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:14)
But in this age you don’t need to commit suicide…
There’s always someone who’s willing to do it for you…
For free…
Change… ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:15)
Open your heart to the dead…
For the living can only make it worse…
The dead will never judge your language…
They can read right through your words… ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:16)
They know what you mean…
They know what you are talking about… ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:17)
Raven…
Phoenix of the black dusk… ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:18)
It is time…
He’s waiting…
Come and take back what he owes you… ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:27)
H.Q. ΞΨΞ ŦџġєЯ Ω ĦəшҜ ΞΦΞ … said (22:28)
22:27
Tue. 17/04/2012
Don’t smother yourself within your digital curtains, don’t waste your life behind progress bars; for the day is still young, and so you are. Go out, leave this colourful cage of yours, let whatever is left of life breathe into you, and get to know the Sun…
In a world of stolen words we live, in an age of copying thoughts, in a time where everyone has something to say, but no one has a thing to do but spitting out them words they utter…
I speak not but of my own self, I speak not but the words out of which I bleed, and with the same words this web I weave, to catch you, the lost, the blind, the fractured flies of a human race…
Speak, shout and scream, for that is what they want you to do, they sold you letters and syllables, and they bleached this grey matter of yours so you no longer know, no longer feel, no longer do what apes should do…
Shut up and live, and speak up once your words do matter, once your words do change, once your words are more than a copycat of a torn schoolbook on an altar of hate…
Yesterday, around 19:00 GMT, three young friends of mine driving through a military checkpoint for the Syrian Arab Army on their way to Homs, to celebrate Easter with their families, were asked to stop… what happened at the checkpoint is a thing that we’re all still waiting to find out, but what is for sure is one thing… Fadi Garrouge is dead… Nadim is injured and Ibrahim is wounded with gun shots…
Three pro-Assad peaceful civilians and good friends of mine, two injured and one shot dead by the same soldiers who vowed to protect them… What an Irony… What a shame… It only makes you lose faith in everything and everyone… For in the end, all you held true to your heart was a lie, and all you once trusted with your life is the first to stab you in your face…
Armies, religions, blind beliefs, tyrants and Gods, what have they brought us but death, separation and destruction. Pro or against, your blood tastes the same to the maggots underground, as so it does to the maggots above, spewing hate, screaming vengeance and breeding blind headless generations that follow nothing but the words of their Gods or the trail of molten lead bleeding through the skulls of their ones beloved…
Awaken my brethren, Ye Sons of Baal, the time has come for you to open your eyes and follow the light, the light of your own hearts. Kneel not to a God neither do you bow to a mortal, for in the end, they all shall fall, and only those who’ve followed none and knew how to walk their own path, shall walk the path to freedom, the path to eternal bless, the path to the land where they once belonged; now soaking red, overfed, waiting for the sun to dry its soil, to shine again through clouded eyes and hearts of smog…
Fadi… If there was a God, I’m sure he’s now laughing his ass off at one of your fucked up jokes… But there’s none, so you’re left for us here to cry…
Fadi Garrouge… My friend… May your soul rest in peace…
