part 12 of 2

 intent terror. They scared him
we conjectured
 They were Praying
unusual Linguistics
suspicion faced This Machine
time.  tongue and  tangent
the one spot, examining the answers far down inside him.
they began assembling offerings, to escape the flooding remnants of advanced vision and threat breakdown
magnifying reverent awe
reveals the fragility
of mere flesh to be of no consequence
disturbing oscillations become invisible but the city presented a starker question
and was effectively abandoned
as the Good Lord went dead
He was changing them
overcome with an evolving religion
a real religion
He turned your daily pilgrimage to the warping Machine
into a strange defect
a badly constructed continuum
fury shrieked in insane geography
Voice and Spirit and Word contains it
constructs it constrains it
the magnetic throne In a trance grovels before
proposed posttrauma Rule
The mind constructs reality
common reality, a common dream, hopelessly
frigid and bleak
a dismal echo warped
declared legally dead
Faith negation corrosive coherence
takes itself on the form forward
reconstruction petrified
within the prison
redesign signaled what appears to be a relay column of waste
They were developing about a rather attractive structure built to give blood a place of worship
dignified reliable rational
potentially not a philosopher but a saint as dangerous and explicitly metamorphic as indestructible
cowardice infectious confirms
gnawed by doubt
am I just programmed to believe I am human?
This astonished me, and continues to astonish me
I am perhaps a madman
come to replace torment with
a circular wind accepted as the Deity
Army of the Voice evokes a Word
never named
Made it real, How odd
we manipulate themselves
need control over he that doesn't exist
Of course, there was sometimes only fear, reverence, and hope.
The exclusion disaster-look made him feel good.
establish control over the raw interwoven animal changes
It is the eternal simulation
the tortured mechanism already falling
Of course, we're refusing, system fingers traced the web deathly silent
fission and fissure retrograde ceaseless
void Spirit out of Spirit servants of sparks
Some kind of temple
occult virtue signification designed yet imperfect
Heavy, isn't it?
now, if you'll excuse me, I really should be getting back to my work.

a need for note-taking, pay no attention to the….

shattering further moldings, covering noise with mold, covering noise with moss. black and green, covering mold with moss. melancology raised to rupture, feedback loops of atavistic dreams fractally repetitive until the sound turns into noise, the noise turns into squall, the squall explodes into directed (anti-tribal-anti-eco-anti-human-anti-folk-)anti-shamanism



All true language
is incomprehensible,
Like the chatter
of a beggar’s teeth.
AA

repetition
repetition
but no repeating
just repetition
walls of sound and fury signifying nothing
inverse Om, the sound decaying
the sound of decay
the sound of a tank rolling over flesh
the sound of a scream choked out by blood filling the mouth
the sound of a migraine
of depression being stifled and swallowed.
of anxiety built to bursting
the sound of all the fake smiles
frowning simultaneously
the sound of animal fury caged under experimental pretense and the sound of resigned (redesigned) sigh, finally (fully) acknowledging the -true and total- loss of idyllic myth, the pastoral primitivity longed for in steven shakespeare's "the dark that soils itself"

"To us, the driving impulse of BM is more about deep ecology than anything else and can best be understood through the application of eco-psychology. Why are we sad and miserable? Because our modern culture has failed—we are all failures. The world around us has failed to sustain our humanity, our spirituality. The deep woe inside black metal is about fear—that we can never return to the mythic, pastoral world that we crave on a deep subconscious level. Black Metal is also about self loathing, for modernity has transformed us, our minds, bodies and spirit, into an alien life form; one not suited to life on earth without the mediating forces of technology, culture and organized religion. We are weak and pitiful in our strength over the earth—in conquering, we have destroyed ourselves. Black Metal expresses disgust with humanity and revels in the misery that one finds when the falseness of our lives is revealed."

but how deep is ecology that we have left behind? what happens when we feel trapped within the noise, when the noise grows louder everywhere?

folk metal
no folk
inverse folk
anti folk
city folk aint folk?
gods of pollution and authoritarian violence
folklore of police brutality and the numbing isolation of social media
the drag of the rat race
the daily grindcore
worship money
swim in industrial sewage
bank headquarters towering over urban sprawl
schools rot in disrepair
alienation
green replaced by silver black and grey
no homeland
streets are home and homeless
deviance
no gods no masters just
clean atheism
Skeptics, one and all
rising above squalor
being a martyr to the machine…or for the machine….the lines in the road get fuzzy after a few drinks.

/With society and its public, there is no longer any other language than that of bombs, barricades, and all that follows/
AA

even desolate streets make a noise. a hum and rumble punctuated by outburst and paroxysm.

/You are outside life, you are above life, you have miseries which the ordinary man does not know, you exceed the normal level, and it is for this that men refuse to forgive you, you poison their peace of mind, you undermine their stability. You have irrepressible pains whose essence is to be inadaptable to any known state, indescribable in words. You have repeated and shifting pains, incurable pains, pains beyond imagining, pains which are neither of the body nor of the soul, but which partake of both. And I share your suffering, and I ask you: who dares to ration our relief?... We are not going to kill ourselves just yet. In the meantime, leave us the hell alone/
AA