vicissitude is everything
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thx blogger.
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-setia writing @ 7:26 PM

       hearts rule
feed these flames he said to me.. i, strung upon mirror after mirror and refusing those words, fell aside with other shards.. the further we roll around, the more depictions bleed thru these sheets we lay. they recommend rolling in the needing graces.. familiar voices return, we are forgetting everything right before and up to these moments. his eyes burned as embers thru the thickness, his darkness swallowing entirely.. as far as corpses go, in father's eyes we are just friends & lovers. there is no need to further improve our disgrace.. around concentric circles our pretty girls danced, their moonlight spells gave way to hell's spectacular entrance and we became as the gods were: utterly powerful and wholly unsatisfied.. in my ears love ridden hearts sway easily to the hypnotic effects of his infernal machine, its diabolic sounds make pleasing rhythms. blacklights from the maze burn skin to bone, and bone to ghost.. she lay gently amongst the barbs, her seductive sounds masked the magic she spoke, his blackness struck far & true.. we are losing everything and becoming with the abyss.. still calling us thru this veil, their voices repeat the requests.
our lovers and our killers reside forever in our hearts, their beauty being a narcotic passion.. my tears flow evenly in their absence. even now, in times of fuck & play hearts rule.
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-setia writing @ 2:25 AM

       in hell and our wastelands, in delerium & destitution, in the moments immediately following these....
as was promised, days of wax came and left. their spilled ashes lingering as our only points of recollection. the beasts with whom we used to lay revealed their black hearts & intentions thru inferno eyes, thru seductive clouds of aromatic smoke. in opposing shades of delight and dispair the evil city has opened its arms to us and is actively welcoming our souls back into its mouth. in hell and our wastelands, in delerium & destitution, in the moments immediately following these we freefall from fire to frying pan.
during idol times we found the shards lending us bits and pieces of the great mysteries.. death, love & the continuation of souls were first and foremost our topics of concern. we worshiped the sunset for its awakening of great darkness. it used to provide and we were lost.... in the shifting nothingness of total blackness we found solutions to aforementioned problems, their inequalities cast shadows on the desicions made to manipulate this time, and the procession of events 'now' will inspire. his bitches made themselves available, yet our alloted time did not permit the dedication and perseverence we intended.. as with our last excersion, lust & love became an unsatisfied mistresses. oh the hatred swelling in our wake, its aromatic whispers embrace the moments of expiration & of execution. our forces fed from hate's invested worship. i discovered what i wanted had nothing to do with services, but everything to do with belief. death.. its glory remains awesome to even the most reluctant of observers.
in our endeavors towards intimate understanding we gave way to entropy. we were inside of small bubbles making her our object of concern. abandoning as her pasttimes may present her to us we took her being for what they were.. the utter embodiment of all things unravelled. even in these hours of darkness she serves the purpose we set forth back in the dying outer edges of the times occuring before this one. the universe had messaged us: we fucked her and swam the eddys of unrelinquishing desire, we killed her & became as the universe was.

*come to scenes of suffering,
searchin' believin' in ultra flesh
pleasure seekers, come see suffering
searchin' believin' in ultra flesh*
g.mann
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-setia writing @ 10:40 PM

       in consideration...
i believed in the mystery once.. its narcotic caresses lulled our sullied beasts to & from delerium, fragments of their unanswered demands still waft aromatically thru the thickness. plentiful were the punishing & distressed in those years; their forms drew caustically across our future's future.. willing to trade the lust for sex, the killing for death. we remembered their signs and called to the evil ones at great length.. shadows ilicited desire like coals shed the ashes of our flesh - the young beautiful ones fell evenly across carefully laid plans.. the master's deepening swallowing plans.
stonefaced guardians of death call into the vastness; 'oppose nothing you angels of the abyss.. let everything connect to you and you will be a part of everything..' the old god returns to rejoice in hellfire, his blacklight betrays the path of corruption. it is a way without denial. the mechanisms of defeat fail to turn in this darkness, their unravelling means cease coagulation and tonight.. yes tonight we are free of their sickness. in consideration of the years of believing the great mystery we capitulate to its awesomeness. in all ways we became that adversary, we are seeds of disaster. father, let all we touch crumble away to your nothingness. cool whispers fortell the coming storm whose violence is yet to be realized. these whispers convince all who hear that hope was lost a long long time ago.. that biology is the only remaining factor in the continuence of life.
in 4 months i forgot where i was in this stream, summer outside of the hell & desert speaks to me thru moving shrouds of sadness. i promised them tonight that i would continue in these endeavors as much work is yet to be accomplished. a world continues to exist that needs to be destroyed.. the masses have already betrayed us and our revenge must be exact. by this vinette's end i'll still have just enough time to await the arrival of tomorrow. until then in the flux of these wicked winds we shall sit around in circles by dancing candlelight waiting for the end of all ends.
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-setia writing @ 1:13 AM

       BOL ZBVB - lord; fly of flies
this sickness burns deep into my throat, signs the wind is coming to gnaw at my arms & jaw again.. her whispered moans lead me from shelter into storm, her cries promising of pleasure better than what we have, taunting us to forget our past, forsake everything to be within the demon's angry breath, to kill those we love, steal from those who depend on us.. to abandon everything that we once held close and dear.. the rewards are astonishing, endless in possibility and scope..
i feel her evil breath sucking at my own, my own struggles for breath become a personal adventure.. sequences of life best left to private moments and episodes of recollection.. she denys nothing, flinging sand at my flesh - course and cleansing abrasiveness - eyes turn to tears, mouths quiver in the eclectic lovemaking.. take a breath and see how the masses throw themselves to dirt, masturbating shamelessly beneath this hideous & erotic wind.. view the impressions dust leaves as her torments carve remarkable characters into our flesh.. these are notations of history, of disease and dispair. the momuments of ruin, they have become our cataclysmic artwork as testimony to the wasteland of achievements..

hell used to be such a beautiful place to be... it is suggestive of what a respected philosopher once said.. "with so many high priests, what happened to the low priests?"  ¶
-setia writing @ 9:20 PM

       71 days, 4 hours 17 min of distress (this.moment.71417)
beyond tears, in shallow graves and the dust of crimson sunsets we believe to the end.. so long has this process of love, sadness, death, re-fascination and love again turned that its sullen illusions fade into the truer etches of absolute truth. from beyond the howling mesas broken bones continue to rattle their battle cries thruout my windy nights, the demons who live in that wind tear at my teeth and tongue.. they call to me brightly and speak of beauty un-imagined, of horror undeniable..
in the graciousness of falling ashes her sickness brings strobes crushing across miles of our broken hearts, throats bound by nails serve as continuous reminders of our service and dedication. how glorious the essence of misery in its lasting effects, missed years down the road and hungered for in hours of boredom, glorified in story & tell...
for each reception gathered, the inner ones make every effort to latch on tight... sucking at the experiences trapped inside. mouths within mouths pierce scaly barbed teeth deep into loose flesh, our infection spreading like self replicating, destructive programs.. you touch this withering face with shaking hands; time runs out and leaves our flesh fighting to hold the sludge borne from 1 million years of hate & hunger, of desire and consumption.. human or inhuman, these shapes represent what means something thru your eyes.. your soul will see only what it chooses and our meaning lies constantly buried in your past..
one more chance to hell, the deception grows with each passing day... our web so intricate now as to entangle those i've worked with and loved for 365+ without intention.. the monsters breathing just below the surface wait for nightmare & solace.. death comes close - we feel it about the edges of these eyes.. its passing windows brings thru their murmering voices speaking to us of the fuck of death, the hunger that life begets..
i hear them clearly, and i will love all of you forever.   ¶
-setia writing @ 12:22 AM

 
in the minutes and hours and days that slowly dragged across our flesh during dry chillwind blown months we recall the burning sands of hellfire and disease left too many years ago for too few good reasons.. gods & demigods of consumption, whores of complete adaquacy & the stuff wildest dreams are made of, incinerating summernight air filled with wafting fumes of guilty sinners & architecture within the most extravangant means.. all lonely eyes becoming brightly lit coals fluctuating in heated breezes.. 'how long until bablyon will these trappings eventually cost us?'
turnpike distractions and the overwhelming volumes of junk email make for desperate times with frantic measure, this sense of incremental deterioration lasts and lasts lending shards of insight to the ever evolving mechanics of addiction.. shards that come quickfire and cutting deliver rapid information by means of incision or puncture. we hear no new voices and fear we are the last. sadness and a sense of lacked duty overshadows these times as they wrap so completely in such short rates that infection has rarely been made possible... no new believers to die for causes miserable and decadent.. no new saviors to gather the huddled masses, ushering all of them to persisting and voracious flames..
beneath lifeless gray skies this winter has fallen desperately in love and the times accompanying it bring perspectives much like those from the bottom of the pit.. scorched skin betrays everything and leads to assumptions of the places we have been and the things we have consumed.. abuse is the closer ally of these evil ones, during our watch we struggle to bear its mighty presence. better now then never we are told.. inbetween the reaches of day-to-day activity there is a deeper lust, a stirring hunger.. one unsatiated by the normals of excess.. cold and asleep for far far too long the beast spasms to wakefullness and makes ready to open the mouths of horror.. to devour until consumption begets famine, and famine brings the hideous ecstacy of nothingness, and nothingness folds into itself leaving no traces of a previous existance..
ahh, to be alive again, before the mockery of life became apparent, when all things were evil and beautiful and wonderful.. when drugs and lust were the only gods worth serving and the magic was sooo strong.. years later it is this eventfilled entropy that creates so much desire for continuing ruin.. like education, distractions play back as prime time catastrophies, defining our moments of pleasure & rest by exhausting the will to live. for the masses, slow death is delivered every morning as the elixer for complacency..

dear young ones, fear not the fire ahead of us.. it's storm surpasses your most erotic fantasies and it's power will take you away from here. our ashes will make young blood run & for once this time lovelies, we will all toast the devil in bed.. in unison.  ¶
-setia writing @ 8:05 PM

       brave new nightmare
6 days thru the hourglasses of emaciated homebound harlots have slipped into oblivion since last year coughed up its last and dying breath.. winter hazed days elude even my most precious moments of decomposition.. today's melody of crushing steel, weeping sores and the angonizing whines of those less fortunate than us did nothing to convince this collective the pertinency of our existance's sluggish flow.. as thick sludge wiggles thru tight spaces, so does time exhaust all possiblity of any pleasure during quick thrill rides.. in the days before, winston kisses made for interesting love.. to this moment we still remember those hours vividly.. you; alight within our bedroom of madness, us; moved steadily by the darker unrelenting forces of want & desire.. the two of us; products of flesh slagheaps still oozing with residue of the previous distraction's gameplay.. blood tasted upon these lips causes us to remember how beautifully you bleed.. our lust for your flesh increases in fashions linear and unequal with the volumes of liquid you have leaked into our cupping hands.. in the moments we stumbled across crumbling edges of ecstacy and disaster there became a newer world, a better world.. one that only included the nightmares we dream together of, only the cries we scream in unison.. stuck with tonight's handtowels and drugs that no longer work, our fingers rest delicately upon the razors edge that is so the vestibule separating our dances & delerium on the other side.. from those on this side.

we promised again faithfully this year to drag the whole fucking world to hell with us.

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-setia writing @ 1:02 AM

       insomnia
lack of light.. total blackness.. dark & deep velvety holes from which godly whores of every magnitude crawl.. hungry fires lick the bellys of our loved ones whilst all things rigid & structured fall to crumbling dust.. we are alone again in this abyss, unreasoned & unsane in our endeavors. forever used to mean a long long time.. longer than eternity, how our perception of its futility has changed during these times. how effortless may it be to dismantle and disassemble all things once held dear & close? in reference to potential energies, a tiny spark creates instant accelerated conflaguration and landslides are born from granular pebbles.
it was in the throes of makeshift tides we were lost so easily to the effects of onrushing forces, swept away in its narcotic ecstacy the delerium was made fast.. secure.. vaults of memories, of emotions & playback video recollection are carefully guarded, their contents invoked frequently as to keep fresh & vivid and close..
all things changed when our beloved exited this world 3 early summers ago, death released the power that keeps us bound by pact.. thrice the flames became twice, one fallen to demise and one lost in derision.. chemistry & cataclysm, movements within the universe, greed & hunger & undying lust are continuing to drive us forward along darkened twisted paths.. all bets are off now, this game is playing for keeps..
in love and in hatred, in oblivion and enlightment I lie sleeping with entropy, unraveling swiftly we are lost to the dark places and alone in the brilliantly shining blackness.. i fear no evil - i fear nothing embraced.. between us a strobing strength flows evenly, touching the voices and hearts of experiential addicts.. we stand alone within large gatherings. His ecplising moon casts a shadow of death over my house, no things are left standing but me... eternally awake with an intoxicating madness of awareness.  ¶
-setia writing @ 2:45 PM