of lust, of love, of imperiled destinations
as long as this night remains my savior, i will not fail to seethe thru the confines of domestic inhibition; defences as collateral, revenge is as restitution and we have no fear of the others who come before us, and those who will ultimately outlast us. sliding my skills deeply beneath hesitation, we radiate with a shining and illuminating darkness.. hungry for bitter souls and legion individuals. above our cast, moonlight seductively filters thru unwanted windowblinds of plain deception, their resulting shadows and brightshards betray the puppetry of the gods.. evil, dark gods whose sole intentions are to utterly destroy this frail and vunerable populace.. at each end.. to either side, beneath our feet & above our faces rains an impenetrable coffin of wealth, grandure, misery and envitable failure.. epitomized as a struggling bitch whose aversion to excess becomes her own means to excessiveness conveys our message of self destruction thru carefully constructed intra-networks.. hapless and lacking persistance, they who miss Father's mark will continue to fall.. they fall forever down gratifyingly deepening holes.

we truly care nothing for where we are headed my love, we only wish prevail in these moments now with you.  ¶
-setia writing @ 6:07 PM

       Evil One
by the time you read this, i will have recited your name 6 times, i will have sucked at your soul 13 times and will have attemped to steal your life once.. you have infected every cell of my being.. innumerously. i crave your screams, your blood.. your beating heart. beside myself in the anxiety that someday i may consider letting you go.. inconsequential.. for these moments are everything we know, infinte in duration and depthless in volume. i call to you to fling sharpness against my yawning flesh.. your daggers become my love, piercing my skin with unmentional configuration. ecstacy is forever our downfall, it is mistaking succulence for lifeblood.
in the moments you found me, i circled myself with 6 candles, chanted your name 13 times and already once have made effort to penetrate the essence of your being. i find us inside myself with blackness.. indefinately. i hunger for the taste you leave within me.. your warmth, your soul.. within myself in the void of a someday total destruction, i cannot let you go. inperceivable.. for these moments have consumed everything we know, unquantifiable in expanse and indefinate in qualification. i cry your name for blood and for eternity.. your insanity has become the greatest drug i've known, setting me free from sequential prisons.. delerium is forever our savior, it is all that is left inhabiting this hallowed shell.

twenty seven harpies bed the cacophony which is our luxury, i have have not only become lost within you, i have become lost to the immeasurable sea of blackness which pours copiously from your soul's labyrinthine arbor.  ¶
-setia writing @ 12:47 AM

       my cherished,
as passive responses continue to erode our collective hunger we methodically break down selfless barriers of denial.. yes, the last vestige of dignity confounds even the simpliest of evil souls, unable to comprehend that respect and dignity are quietly killing this populace. what value is dragged from burning wastelands, from empty eyeshadowed hearts and pithy dissicated graves is bound to form illusions splendid in happening, obvious in pretention.
you and i speak from eons apart, awake in delirium and capacity, your messages lull me into pitch black contentment, i hear soft cries and whimpers emitted from those we cast to darkness ages ago.. you are exciting, so radiant with hellfire.. so logical in your evil. i think we met lifetimes ago, its my only rationale for falling into your incomprehendable spaciousness.. falling face first without dignity. of angels and whores we are still in communion. their bodies our toys, always remembering that we used to smile and laugh while swallowing their flesh.. do you also remember how we lay in darklight marveling the formations of lost soul legions heavily filing before us? passing seeds, their presence fortells of the self destruction possessing everyone.

i thought again of your flesh, considering my hands and mutating it to sheens of viable plastic. i heard your voice and recognized it as a scream i hear often in the depthless void. i looked into your eyes and found the nightmare i have hungered for so many years to embrace. i found the dusty cracked soil where they intend to bury us once this is all over and was surprised to see that irises had already started to grow. within shattered mirrors i saw my own face, and wondered how the hell we ended up on this path together..
i have begun to believe the universe has grave intentions, if we try hard enough we may swindle it before it reaches self collapse.

i heard your voice in this morning's hazy earliest hours, i remembered your face, your touch and taste. my eyes could not see due to the darkness i am stuck within.. but i knew it was you. at wake this morning, in shower and before mirror i noticed my flesh is ghostly white.. paled by the apparitions we played with last night, my hands bear the marks of your claws, my shoulder and arms bruised by your teeth.
beloved, as this web becomes more intricate, our hole becomes deeper.. i lost myself during moments with you, fevered and irrational with sickness.. your soul becoming my beacon to which i held dearly, searching these dark tunnels for lightness, for a way out - finding your face and body next to mine and eventually collapsing into your arms.. eventually falling into your pit. every step furthers our prediciment, confirms our direction and latches us closer to the path we now walk arm in arm.
i messaged you that my anxiety diminishes in measured increments as the moments separating me from you steadily expire. you informed me of candlelight and bells, and the demons you speak to.. i fell asleep and was forever lost within your soul.

    6
27|13  ¶
-setia writing @ 8:57 PM

       legions of ambient autoerotic bitches
along this road of tragidy, we speak of those on either side.. here.. these are the lost, the forgotten.. those whose memories ceased to exist in anyone's mind so many years ago.. they float effortlessly, aimlessly, lacking direction and intention.. soluable barebone frames of the fire they used to ignite.. how sad to see their disparity when it is obvious that conclusion is their greatest need. we offer platelets to clot their weeping sores, unpatched and unplugged their holes remain ominous caverns whose black empty mouths are the only legacy left to succeeding children.. to mention security is occult.
here, we see the mad, desperate in their cause and fantastic in creation.. insanity courts many lovers - ultimate destruction being the most brilliant and intriguing within my royal court of whores. their lucid movements betray the slumber all maddened are sucked deep within, however hard the strain to bridge this great chasm may be, the abyss of insanity forms a perfect barrier.. trapping those on that side and us on this side.
over across this way we find the disillusioned.. obssessive intense manic bursts of genius dragged to hell by an inherent inability to perceive holistically.. yes their art is breath taking, yes their words are moving and persuasive.. unfortunately their only home shall be the clutches of empty houses and locked rooms, their only form of communication will be these scribblings passed thru cracks in doors and holes in window screens..
beneath your feet are whats left of the broken, the betrod upon, the pieces belonging to no one or no thing any longer.. crushed dreams iterate eternally the broken glass upon which we walk. bleed your sorrow sweet one, it is wasteful.

my love, in all consideration the enormity of your desperate hopeless love-stye belies all intentions to burn our fucking house down while we make love, while i am asleep.. i touch skin grown cold from death, rough from overuse and remember how it was when we danced the dead songs underground, when we created nightmares from graven beauty around us. you cut me, i bled upon you, our shadows committing to a never ending cycle of love, abuse, hate and desire. i hit you, you stabbed me during the moments before we slept intertwined with the pieces of our other dead lovers, individually and collectively. i expressed rainstruck thirst for the sex you taunted me with.. perhaps it was the sound that cocking your gun in my mouth emits that finally took me beyond heaven, beyond a place where nothing else matters.. beyond everything to where no one else cares.. nothing matters because we are forgotten and no longer is anyone left to care.

oh Father, bring Your dark clouds over this house, our house of the damned. may all be welcomed.. and yes, none will ever leave. may we guide you into its hungry mouth, push you stumbling thru this doorway and be forever lost to blackness, to chaos and to passion. a bottomless pit awaits your weary soul. unspeakable rites of crime and disease hold rapt the innocent and afraid, bloodlust and a taste for forms of extremism cultivate as embryonic virus lifeforms mature admist an ever pressing need to aspire genecide for everything its worth.. they are beautiful.. young.. unaware and unassuming.. and waiting to grow the strength to kill everything and everyone. lackluster spirits discuss decadent parties over bitter drinks, a reunion of sin commences historical jazz.. zombies and addicts grind against each other's corpses in tightly choreographed acts of lovemaking. death creates children of death, nothingness remains nothingness.. sadness and dispair are key drugs to remember..

when were the times to forget?  ¶
-setia writing @ 9:54 PM

       dysphoria
how did i become so far away from this world, my shell cold & isolated.. dead eyes and faces of doom? we suffering innumerable magnitudes of desolation only to return hungry for more.. hunger.. desire.. failure.. catastrophe.. these are the things we are made of. however the power turns this night, we know our efforts are not in vain. we shall reach climax.. and we shall fall thru to the other side.

death grants only passing pardon, it is not the embrace with death we seek, it is the contracts death doles out to all hideous and blackened hearts. a mission for money, we strike terror in the dreams of our targets.. hilarity within the children who are marked. hysteria is not a reaction.. it is an emotion of passion.  ¶
-setia writing @ 4:18 AM

       extortionate piety
Chaos logically instigates stratification because it is thru force, random placement and superior evolution that places the weak as weak and the strong as strong. Time.. the ever present qualifier within every petri dish or experiment, an effect that gives ability be strong, that which is weak. You see.. the masters have vanished. now the slaves wish to be masters themselves.
My love, how ever often you thirst for abomination.. how ever much shame you sought fervently or the extent you prostituted yourself for momentary pleasures.. your desperation is your bid for self destruction in pursuit of enlightenment.. ? how forever wicked you are, we have cultivated a home for you in our hearts and beds.. our longing for dark conventions has brought us quickly down to this point.. in essence; our speed is creating lovers of killers.

Alone and persuasive, we face an angry sea.. its blackened waves speak to us as they plummet hapless sand with insurmountable forces, speaking twisted tongues of other lives, other lovers. We are reminded of fleets of failure, of huge organizations of idiots.. masses streaming –fighting each other for position – all as bovine to slaughter, unaware, apathetic & completely unconcerned for their predicament. We set fires that they shall be the beacons who will call our old ones back to this place.. the doorways open and close, beauty and monstrosity, motionless in their assuming stance.. the old man in black.. then our Capricorn face, needles and knives and instruments of astonishing pleasure..
lost in the blackness, our hands trembling with the sensations these visions leave behind.. we are in solitude. isolated in obsession and madness. Paled from computer circuitry byproducts, we are corrupted with the dirty secrets we hold of everybody.. sickened by indecision, or in derision we gleefully cast our contents forth.. expunging, my hungry mouth seeks in the dark for lost fragments of information, sucking all in gulps of valuable explainations. it becomes steadily obvious that all technology is evil, our Father is the greatest evil, Father shines brightest.


Abandon all hesitation within this night.. feel psychotropic sexual maneuvers suck at lips and hips of untasted (untested) young bodies.. we have found surrender to be the most profitable (prophetic) insinuations anywhere. Potentially, darkness may be your savior if you are strong enough to kill this urge to cling to what illusions you used to depend upon.. this nightmare’s scope is ever-reaching, and your success will depend upon a willingness to consume all that becomes you.. all that replaces you.
  ¶
-setia writing @ 12:39 AM

       capital derision
it has been days since the evil ones visited us.. months since the last time we fell madly in love with an ideology, a methodolgy.. it has been years since the marrow was last sucked dry, when essence in its entirety was last consumed by the hungry mouths of empty souls.. our capitulation has driven those of influence furious over time.. we have sought what we wished, taken what we wanted and have eaten what we lusted for, our bellys strong and silent with tremors and terror of this path's experiences.. distributing abandonment thru a well oiled network of technology and racketeering has produced excessive payoff.. both in abysmal lamantation and in lecherous celebration.
seekers please sit down, i invite you to taste of this wine.. take of whom you please. do you remember how incredible it has been.. emperors with our own thrones (thorns)? i encourage you to strip away your garments of fear, of distrust.. of regret. to stand before us glorified and radiate.. you are objects of desire.. offerings of convenience. i ask that you lay down upon these sheets.. sheets that covered the one before you, and will hold the one behind you.. whatever complexity arising from our carefully constructed scheme will certainly enhance the quality of this maddness and invoke greater conspirocy amongst our jilted companions. forget your past, your present and your worries.. this is the most secluded location your mind can fathom.
oh, but it is the strength that keeps you imprisoned in this nightmare.. it is drug addiction beyond your wildest dreams, beyond your most fantastic expectations.. can you join me in this moment, where nothing else matters, where the universe only includes yourself and myself.. where hunger and sickness greet us on hazy days, delerium is our steadfast rock.. where desire is the very blood we suck.
i tell you of horrible deliberate actions with sweet words and soft voices, show you flower petals while you memorize entry codes to the gates of hell.. you smile politely, thanking me for my generousity complete your ashes and quietly alight yourself with flames, falling downwards as burning embers.
we drink to ashes, mixing your opacity with our clear liquors.. grinning with black teeth we tell of the seduction of darkness, of how it promises the world and requires so little from un-initiates.. 'its glamorous and practical, we will get you far' we say.. 'how far will it take me?' the next one asks.. 'to hell baby, right back to me' we whisper in silken tones.



in all mathematical considerations we are deriden by physical effects, constant within our own universes.. and conditionally bound to innumerable variables. each number brings another.. meanings within patterns as endless streams of numeric characters are read like tea leaves.. a cacophony of possibilities arises when these secret equations are discovered.. the equations that show inequality within physics.. abstraction within concrete. we bang on candles, trot for smokevapours and dig deep holes for loved ones.. slipping in and out of here and now.. only oblivion awaits outside the bubble.  ¶
-setia writing @ 12:27 AM

       deceleration
beloved,
these times are spinning down.. quickly. their rate of unravelment concerns me and i find myself spending excessive time considering how effective the ailments brought entropicly lay waste to the things we think we know, and the things whose hold as brought us here from so many nights and years and places.. a magical caldron ventelates poisonous steam shameslessly yet all the right portions and all the right mixtures have brought those still alive and free from forever ago back to soil of everything's beginning.. here we sit, gathered in circles.. some circles of blackness and some of blindness.. focusing on new tasks at hand.. new greatnesses to be wrought and revelations made profound.. we sat the edge of this fire.. unruly streams of raw power entrapped us in that black gaze, our fingers moving ancient peices of stone and wood to fortunetelling shapes.. a standard procedure.. wrapping our reality around figures of stone and bone while they wrap their reality around us.. worlds of influence become parallel, ceasing to be transparent. we are in the same service that they are to us.
enjoying the rarity of moments away from work today i watched sunlight weakly fall to the dark clouds covering this sky. clouds whose magnitude was not understood at ground level, blocking all remaining feeble sunlight, casting its hungry shadow across this valley.. in my mind i considered 'lambs to slaughter', but quickly discounted the visualization because a more important operation has been in works for quite sometime.. and promises to soon come to fruition.. it is this i cannot toss aside for such a spinning world.


there has been talk of sequential event perception emboding a sort of prison hold over us.. perhaps it is the fear of death that keeps so many clawing for lightside.. perhaps it is the fear of unknown that continues to encourage construction and placement for street lamps. from my perspective, from my position of objectivity outside of the bubble.. i see everything and understand everything.. events have run quickly, but predictably.. although unimaginable riches have yet to be delivered, our time in technical, analytical and theoretical study have been well spent and make promises of coming prophets (profits).
little, in nonsituational context, we find to hold any value.. nothingness begets nothingness, these days have surrounded us with nothingness and piles of broken computers.. reading an old old love's posted content today has reminded me of the world we had planned on saving from itself.. 15 years later and not only is that world dead, but so almost are we. constitution has no reackoning, is easily disuaded, even corrupted by small repetitive suggestions.. this is the blackprint of control by information.. our aim certainly shall be to create again.. as we are drowning in non functional constructions of nothingness, we soon are due to manufacture more seeds to inspire increasing waves of sucking nothingness..
before this world went crazy, there were a plethora of ideas for art, for imagination.. for creation - for things designed to break down morality, to incite corruption, libertinism, success by any means necessary accompanied by fabulous wealth, enough to fund any project and feed any enterprise.. these ideas also have spun down, dogs eat dogs and now we too are clawing for darklight. our plans for success and material resources have flamed like candles,some burn brightest, some were blown out while others have remained low, cool and unconsuming.. we recognize we too are victims, victims of this insanity that eats around.. infecting each and everyone like an incurable deadly plague..

in creation, we speak of beauty wrung from all things profane, of desperate desire fed by methodical means of self destruction, of soul shaking imagination & profoundly wicked eclectic visions... we hang onto these images as tapestries, holding pertinant their moments during elegant dinners and fine spirits.. always plotting for errand bursts of power to reinflame the darkest burning point any of us has ever seen..
yes, it goes on.. bodies once believed buried for years have re-entered the living world.. castaways once imagined to be properly isolated and hopelessly stranded have made ways back to this earth.. where everything started.. in the almost 9 years i was away from here, i dragged its haunted magical soil with me to every place i lived.. keeping samples from different areas in separate airtight jars.. jars teaming with memories, disease, fragements of lost ones and all good reasons supporting continuing addiction..

you will be pleased to know that my shrine has burned constantly since those days of a long long time ago.. its power has opened doorways to places i continue to shiver in thought of.. its hunger became us all, and we became it.. finding knowledge, technical information and future foresight in inexhaustable quantites.. we all bathed in the same flames, we; in turn will burn to ashes once our duties are accomplished.. we all knew this was the way it was to be from before the beginning..

you don't have to tell me distraction makes habit of worming thru well constructed schedules and goals.. if we only had to pay 1 second for each period of distraction.. we only would have had to wait 2 years to get here instead of 10.. in unequal balances, we tasted and exploited this world in ways pleasing to us.. also putting great effort towards accomplishing the very important goals, rites of perperation, amass of wealth and influencial connections.. perhaps not as much as what could have been. behind a tightly clenched cigarette, i can assure you that existance must contain a certain level of indulgence, otherwise its continuity becomes mundane and lacking life..

forget about everything, concentrate on what you know you must do.. we are in consenus that time has run out.  ¶
-setia writing @ 11:07 PM