Don't believe Spotify will set you free, Neo

[Sepia]

You were there then. You were there then, when it happened. It came onto us, it saw both of us and we were caught in some old horror flick, we were a different bonnie and a different clyde  but that was who we were, those were the demons we rode, these were the roads we rolled, this

was were our youth disappeared to, fickle thing it is, you don't know you had it till you lost it and it's no use crying about it because everyone lost it and none wants to talk of it,  like a good friend in prison

The future. Alan Moore says in From Hell that Jack the Ripper delivered what we live in now, what we fear now, what we've overcome thus far, where our demons have carried us and there is a fourth dimension, time has an architect and William Blake was indeed a prophet

if lovecraft hadn't written like shit the world wouldn't be like this

think about it, this fourth dimension, go with me here, time repeats it self with a mathematical answer to how but never a why but it's fifty years abouts since brave new world and 1984 were written and we're growing closer to the equilibrium of howard phillips lovecraft

what if (humor me) he told the truth?

He was right. Underneath the ice, some of them sleep. The ancient Plateau of Leng where the monstrosities communes with those old ones still here, hearing the gargling sounds from R'lyeh and here it is
Here is his tale. Here is his story. What we're seeing, experiencing and feeling is the imprint reality made upon howard phillips as he grew up and saw the world differently than he did when he was a child and he was obviously a bright child, to have understood what one needed to hate which shouldn't be hated

that was also where we met for the first time, in that pretty hate, that clean hate which none can explain or understand, ice hot and filled with light and love, radiating sentience and confusion

We were doing it too much when it came to that. Our favourite subject and we always hit it once every afternoon we met, whether it was over a cup of tea in the gentleman's club or before a lecture, waiting for the bus, slept too long and the coffee from seven eleven tastes like dog turds with hot water and you realized for the first time yesterday that you need to do something else, somewhere else

These were the illuminations, the youth in us spoke out and they didn't see us as we slipped by their beds with blades in our hands and we cut them open

Then and there

we were caught in some old horror flick, we were a different bonnie and a different clyde but that was who we were, those were the demons we rode, these were the roads we rolled, this

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Oh, fuck yeah.

[Murmur]

Hell yeah!  Very nice.

[the last yatto]

i always feel guilty for posting in your threads cause often the piece is really REALLY good
i dont wanna just add THIS or mittens forever. maybe a subforum to connect em all in a row


these should be required reading or something

[the last yatto]

  Because I don't want to be here, you fuckwits respond to intelligent posts with mittens for christssake. You're idiots. I don't want to be anywhere else either, which is why I'm still here