News:

PD.com: We have 73 Virgins!

Main Menu
Menu

Show posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Show posts Menu

Messages - Sepia

#31
rip in peace roger


ferret


legged
#32
Hello, friends.

What happened to roger? I'm guessing there is no detailed chronicle regarding his departure

Any other interesting old-fart departures?
#33
Or Kill Me / a fresh new lemon-scented you
February 28, 2018, 09:49:01 PM
"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women" - Arnold Schwarzenegger

"It's nice to be important but it's more important to be nice" - Scooter


We speak to them, our choir, we speak to them as if they are a part of us, another idea, another concept of us. Sullen, we have become and we will end and they will be there with us, when we end as they were when we began and we sing to them as we feel something ends as something begins our voices become melodious because the thing we learned when we were smaller and thought that some of this we did mattered in the end, erased by cheap rubbers as we became older and lost our sense of direction, rudderless rubbberless but still we sing, still our voices are there and not still, the choir booms and becomes and we invoke it when we see fit, we invoke the dreams they cast upon us we invoke them when we feel helpless and small for their tones, their power is what we ourselves put into them without becoming them because it wouldn't be becoming of us

to let go and only listen

people are strange when you're a stranger

and strange we are, mother earths children each and every one of us, one global tribe connected through james cameron when he became a tree and we all coloured ourselves blue, we see we see the strangeness and the weirdness that shaped us and all of it or we think we do or we know we dont but fuck you we're conjuring here, new realites, other fantasies

we aren't combating or extinguishing our diseases and ills, our sicknesses are merely symptoms of what we will become because one day far far away in the story of human evolution, alois schicklgrubers fever dream, the perfect man, his aryan of whatever colour, creed or orifices to be penetrated in will become birthed, mutated through every ailment, the first of the last(first), mankinds destiny is to become a living breathing weapon,

Death becomes me and I am its shadow

succulent we were then, succulent we will come to be the flood will come and the ark itself will manifest and within it the ten commandments unedited version untainted by human hands


#34
Or Kill Me / not political
January 06, 2018, 12:11:34 AM
and death becomes silent as cain begins the revolution and the choir sings are we able and we descend as we ascend and enter  the right frame of mind enter Eastenders

we google oogle google words we no longer remember and we feed bananas to our cryptocurrencies hoping new cryptobananas will be born silently hoping someone else will join our wankathon

we feel we owe it to ourselves we owe it to someone else we feel we owe it to the sky to mom to dad to mother to father to elon musk to greath cthulhu to donald trump, the first of his name to honningbarna to rage against the machine but not the prophets of rage
to ideas and dreams to hopes of futures we know will never happen

here, shades and phantoms: what did you become?
#35
Or Kill Me / Fuckball
May 12, 2017, 08:06:16 PM
come play fuckball she said come play fuckball with me, I'm tired I said, I'm getting old I don't have your longevity, come play fuckball she said come play fuckball with me, I have work in the morning loved one I have to get out and be about, come play fuckball she said come play fuckball with me, I love you and I'll play with you when time comes, come play fuckball she said come play fuckball with me

I love you, with all my heart, mother earth, torturist of us all, jailer of alien spirits I see what you made us and I love you, you are our perfect parasite our perfect symbiotic love, I have witnessed the silver city in dreams and I have seen the angels that reside there and I have heard their song and I sat there as they sang

come play fuckball she said come play fuckball with me, I watch her filled with vigor her movements filled with grace and precision learned and known, come play fuckball she said come play fuckball with me, she's an aleph beautiful in her own way tending to her own library of dreams and revolving doors, traps snapping shut

Jaws snapping shut, life ending becoming death becoming a life worth living as death peers at me while she sets a new record in pong smiling knowing she is untouchable in every aspect that matters to her she reminds me of the time

she said come play fuckball with me, now
#36
Or Kill Me / Re: fuck you america?
December 20, 2016, 01:18:11 AM


Undying, shackle time and let me remember to get up to drink the coconut before it stales, mother time, commemorate me to destruction and become your own annihilation, be brave in this time of your own shush now

Hear her now mother america how you have nurtured us into this age of empire and how you will chaperone us into this new thing for you are the world, you are the people
#37
Or Kill Me / Re: Everyone will always be too late (2016)
November 14, 2016, 01:13:48 AM
are these like the others in lost or more like the others in asoiaf?
#38
Or Kill Me / Re: Everyone will always be too late (2016)
November 14, 2016, 12:56:21 AM
I'm sorry if that came over as aggressive

It's not

We're all good, aren't we?
#39
Or Kill Me / YOU should take RESPONSIBILITY
November 14, 2016, 12:54:27 AM
shouldn't you?
#40
Or Kill Me / Re: Everyone will always be too late (2016)
November 14, 2016, 12:52:57 AM
Quote from: MithridatesXXIII on October 09, 2016, 07:18:23 PM
This is beautiful. Thanks for sharing. Please don't torture yourself. Please don't let your compassion kill you. Learn mercy and forgiveness, for yourself and human kind.

I like you, you're kind or seemingly atleast but I'm sorry, I can't and I won't. I'll torture myself most of the time because it's what drives me, I (the I) need torture to work, the captain of the meatship needs something lurking in the unterzee to work and I know mercy like I know forgiveness and they work on individuals but they do not work on concepts, abstracts or generalizations. I won't but it will but for me it's the only way to see magique, the only viewpoint where it becomes valid is inbetween these cracks, something is being created by you understanding what you are and what choices you want to make, freely by design and not because another limiting factor fucks you over. Then, understanding the price and again, Then, doing it.

but, thank you but I don't feel like I'm missing much, then again that might be the issue but again, fuckit I'm a human so fuckyou


you know?
#41
Or Kill Me / Everyone will always be too late (2016)
September 21, 2016, 11:48:27 PM
Every chance is the chance to die again, a better death, a cleaner death a newer one more befitting of our station
to be reborn again every time we make a choice, a life for a death, nothing for nothing or was it something for something who can remember now in this day and age, who can remember when something still meant something or was it just that part of my brain back then

Kill it I hear them say
the voices from the deep - in this time of contempt

His hatred is there still, hard to catch underneath the despair but still white and hot and cold and hard, the all of what love can show us but clearer, like moments of understanding, clarity, those three seconds when you see the sun rise and the acid is peaking and you are everything/you understand everything and you become it and it consumes you as you consume it a symbiosis or a parasite those holy seconds where all is revealed and even when youve moved away from hatred, youve moved away from love to somewhere something else where nothing that lives should live

Clear is his love but misplaced and unrequited, clear like looking at the sun through a frothing beer too early in the day, just the right time of year, we can still remember patti smiths easter and we hear her songs but this is where we sit, outside, thinking old thoughts while we have old conversations and air smells like it has been born again, everything is new and fresh, everything feels new and fresh, except us

He is here still, like her and the last one, reliving every sacred battle ever lied about in any book that sell because of embellishments and people think when its written down it is serious, it becomes more fact than lie by default but nothing is true, nothing is absolute and and when I think about it, I should have found something divine, should have found god or tarim or eris or the jolly fat man, should have found something but I found nothing and nothing found me perhaps because I clad myself in my armor too early, too young of age and too tender, too hot I should have been allowed to rest before they I cut me open

I should have found god and knelt and been at peace, I am the last monkey in the opening scene of 2001, walking around looking for the something, no bones breaking underneath my fingers and no next step found and the moral of those stories is always that I should stop looking for it, relax and be at peace but there is no peace here, we are all cattle in a giant slaughterhouse and it is getting mundane even for the people that see it and I can't wait to see what lies further in store for us


Breathe they say around BREATHE they shout at him as if the power of the masses can shout someone back to life BREATHE why BREATHE why draw breath in the abattoir at all why fight on, why BREATHE why breathe when you can wish for a machine that would work, if you showed us a country that was north korea except that it was like the south people would stand in line to dictator it through

Why do we do this, we do we delude ourselves to these extents, we know better we should know better we are better we used to be better I dont know what we are now, I dont know where we are now and it is scaring me, the situation is becoming me but perhaps Ive been too stoned to follow on that real trip where I grow up and become something more, more in control, more myself, more responsible, more adult more more smores

The pupae is slow
but see!
It is widening, do you see?
Can you see it there,
among the petals of its bloom
it grows out of its shell,
silent
#42
No, converging. timestops, time stops not that time stops but the sensation that time has stopped on the inside but the outside turns again and again, against us, taking us feeling us destroying us wanting us becoming us, smelling and dreaming us, fearing us as we fear ourselves every step we take down the path we chose so long ago, infant steps not knowing where next small toes might land, this is it, converging, going abstract becoming normal, becoming clear, burnt too much too fast without knowing

we face the options and we are staggered, we are stopped in motion as we realize its all so fucking mundane and it was what we thought it was a long time ago, like catching a plot or a cold, here we are here they are, here it is, a golden apple painted with familiar words, once, like hands doing unfamiliar motions, the sensations of deja vu

I should be smarter about it, I should see it as it is and smile

The world is an apple, unripe but tossed among the greedy needy the us, perched and sat and becoming, illustrious what are the dogs singing what is this we are hearing where is life and what are we becoming, heart and shatter demon and scatter, wings become out cast and we are those, outcast but only in our own minds, we live now we become now we are drunk on the blood of our enemies as we insert the straw into our hearts, pumping out a future

to connect is to sever

there is a mountain
then there is no mountain

All is shadows and steel, blood and bone- time and untime, utnime in the allnow, branded once, dying now cherished cherubs of great cthulhu, sing to us our dream our sleep, sing to us the truth, sing to us from sacred r'lyeh, sing to us who we truly are

sing us our songs our songs of ourselves
#43
Or Kill Me / Re: h: plaigirism
May 11, 2016, 12:47:21 AM
Always nice to know what happens. I liked what horab wrote, never knew him outside of that. Meth though, poor fuck
#44
Or Kill Me / God told me to skin you alive[edit]
March 24, 2016, 06:40:12 AM
Weary, wonky, wanking were vixens


"5 And the Lord said, "Indeed the people are one and they all have one language, and this is what they begin to do; now nothing that they propose to do will be withheld from them"."


"."

When the long hard journey is over and we become one people, fully truly like actually and not like anyone with an agenda but when childhood ends and we transcend/ascend/descend nothing will be withheld from us. Bearing that in mind we begin to explore what lies beyond, who knows what is left of mother earth at this point but thats not important now, important is we go out into it, beyond, we work together to become something more, doing something very human and we go out to explore

"...a terrible beauty is born."

Becoming the terror, we have learned so little, a child's hand tinkering at the piano, skilled and knowing, somewhere deep inside the hairy trombone something resonates, changes and the moment of grace is broken and the child resumes, she begins her journey on a broad broad road.

"...Every stool was looser than the one before, and smelled fouler. By the time the moon came up she was shitting brown water. The more she drank the more she shat but the more she shat, the thirstier she grew".

A house of cards will fall or did i mean a house of cars i cant seem to recall anymore, theres and impertinent impediment in my speech prepared to give a speach to find those few out of reach and id talk about her fanny but its more of a peach ripe for digging in your teeth and god god grant me sleep

To keep the dream from fragmenting without us knowing what it is anymore. A shudder, a click and a halt, something loosening, a heart stopping, a soul churning. It was supposed to mean something, it was supposed to become something but it wouldn't grow on its own, the tree wanted to die but we had to keep it alive so we ourselves could live into something new, pupae is all we hope we are, underneath all the dross that forms and foams on top of our lives, we hope that we are inherently good, it's not we do, it's not who we are but what we will become that makes us able to move through the dredge of our lives and the smile on our faces is a cold one, like a waiter asking you in a broken language if you want another refill

#45
Or Kill Me / Re: fuck you america?
March 06, 2016, 01:57:37 AM
Quote from: LMNO on March 05, 2016, 01:59:05 AM
Sepia, I would like to borrow this with attribution, but do you have a preference as to what you'd like to be called?

Go ahead and call it what you wish because I don't know what it'll be called when it's done but it doesn't feel done yet and I might just ruin it so yeah, do what thou wilt

Thanks and cheers, need to read up on some cain-y stuff