The sadistic incident of sodomy

Have you ever observed the twirls and swirls of the smoke produced by a single cigarette on a bright, bright windless morning; to observe both the paper and tobacco burn in miserable grey and iconic blue respectively?

I have, and always will continue to observe it, because it’s ever wondrous, the transfiguration of epitomic euphoria and melancholy could derive from such simplicity. It’s like the wildean mating of butterflies onset the background of sunlight protruding from the cracks in between the forage of leaves overhead.

Face it, it’s poetry in motion; like the tragedies of Lady Macbeth’s suicide being continuously celebrated through this little ceremony of lung exercise and child-like zeal.

Each time I exhale, I watch as the smoke forms a brain in haste in thin air then slowly decolorizes and blends into the conviction of fresh air.

I see that it’s beautiful, but I’m quizzed at the beauty in it.

Hello there, I’m Marc Ashley, remember me? I used to blog here every time but due to my lack of organisation and my continued laziness, I haven’t been myself these few months, I haven’t.

It feels as though I were absent from life itself, divorced from it, existing on a ground far separate from which we usually are in.

Alternate state of consciousness, you may ask?

Who knows? It could be, all the world’s going mental, more mental than it already is, far mental than it should be.

Desensitization, you might add? Yes, yes, for we have developed a sixth sense, look it up, it’s called depravity.

Chucking all aesthetic beauty and literature and all knowledge we have and turning it into a vile monster, all of it.

Yes, this is a place rampant with potential murderers and rapists and sociopaths and freaks and we also have the guys who want to be the above mentioned, and yet also, we have our immortal crusaders of morality, who never ceases to humour us with their traditional cultivation, and their sick fairy tales of a man in the sky, about their unseen and arrogant “knowledge” of “right and wrong”.

And this is where I, Marc Ashley, boy of 17years, proclaims that I shall not want to be catagorised under the classification of homosapien, or human being.

For those of you who do not know, and till now still ignorantly think that the word ‘homo’ means gay, you are far far wrong, for the word homo means man in latin, thus deriving the term homo for the now common misconception of the combined word, homosexual.

But who cares if you do know that or not, I don’t, or do I? fuckit.

Isn’t it all now falling into place that we’re a disdained bunch.

Now, take everything you know and everything you have and throw it all away and feel the eradication, the liberation from all confines in structural society? mind you, it does take a while, but eventually, you’ll get it.

Feel all nothingness and embrace it, like the warmth of a mothers’ caress, feel it drain all your sorrow and all your other useless emotions into a vat of just pure nothingness.

Face it, the only way we can be free is to let go of everything.

People say “freedom is nothing without (blah blah blah *add in whatever you wish*) .

But no, no, no. stop there.

Just say, ‘Freedom is nothing.’

Thus the substance of nothing (or nothingness) is freedom. To take nothing and turn it into something. (this is so Andy Warhol)

Try it once, let it all go, your culture, your material, your ideologies, and just flush it down.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

*Anything compromised will only result in a placebo*

Goodbye I say

ratiocination

What defines a good country?

Is it its wealth, or its eye of deliverance for reason, justice, democracy, freedom and/or security.

You see, it’s basically subjective, not ecumenical. So what does constitute to a good country? –I don’t really know and I don’t actually care, so long as they legalize marijuana and have wild b.d.s.m in neo-medieval parlours… wait for a Jesus second, that’s Amsterdam, best city in the world, apart from hmm, I dunno.

The further we progress municipally, and universally, the more desensitized and dehumanized we’re getting, hey, I’m not caring here, it’s just that everything seems to matter all of a sudden for a second then it altogether doesn’t, and when it does again, everything feels worthless, as it already is.

“It was scattered in my mind by the time I picked it up. A pseudo-psychological substance harvested from its hydroponic lair. My mind spirals in blunders, viral to the stupor, ahh, the requiem.”

 

    hersminemine