TROUBLE AT HOME

Day 1

“I found this…odd book today. Kept in the, er, religious/mysticism section of my library. Was on the prowl for something out of the ordinary, and it definitely would appear that I got my wish. Heh. Seemed pretty interesting. I decided to check it out. Take it home with me, y’know? Lady who works the front desk looked at me skeptically when her eyes caught it. Only book I’ve seen her act that way towards. She was also strangely silent towards me. Didn’t bid me the usual farewell or anything. No pleasant chit-chat. Oh well.”

Day 2

“Started thumbing through that new book. Title’s…indecipherable. Written in an alphabet I clearly can’t read. Doesn’t look like any language I’ve ever heard of. Not even Arabic. Anyway, flipped through it to gauge it. Pages are filled with whatever writing this is. Can’t read it worth a damn. Lots of interesting illustrations, though. Creatures that don’t exist, hell, can’t exist. Really detailed depictions, too. Same with some of these monuments, buildings, locations. Holy shit. Whoever penned this thing had a wild imagination. I mean, none of these settings are possible or real, surely. But goddamn…they’re so vivid. So intricately penned. I also saw…what I guess were instructions? I assume that’s what they were. Next to and placed between what looked like really…really demented rituals and sacrifices. Good god, I hope no one ever tried any of that shit.”

Day 3

“Couldn’t…couldn’t stop thinking about that book. Didn’t sleep too great last night. Got maybe…maybe 3 hours in total, I would say? Every time I closed my eyes, I had these…really fucked up scenes just flash in my brain. Violent, gory. Kept jumping right out of bed, not sure where I was. As a result, I was out of it at work. And my mind would not stop wandering back to that…that stuff I saw in my dream. Fuck…it felt so real. Every time I tried to shove it down or forget about it, or the contents of that book, it only intensified. My boss and coworkers looked at me weird. Must’ve appeared I was having a breakdown of some kind. Now…I’m at home. Pacing back and forth. God, for some reason…I feel like I’m being watched. Something’s right behind my back, I know there is. But every time I turn, nothing is fucking there. I swear…I swear I hear very faint cackling. I have to concentrate to hear it. But it’s there. It’s fucking there…”

Day 4

“Haven’t slept all night. Couldn’t even if I wanted to. My hands are shaking. I don’t know if it’s from the gashes in my arms or the amount of pure fucking fear. Haven’t done much in the apartment. Certainly not touched the book. Just kinda…sit down and think. Occasionally have a loud outburst. Scream. Shout. Not even anything coherent. Lights went out at some point. All the power did. It’s so dark…I’m so scared. My eyes keep focusing on that bloodied knife. For whatever reason, I feel compelled to jam it right into my jugular vein. But I fear what comes after I depart life is much worse than the torments currently troubling me. Visions of snarling, gurgling, retching…things. Beings. Shit, I don’t even know how to describe them. Just aching for my flesh. Oh god…please…I’m not the praying type. Yet…I can’t help but hope. Have a little faith. Doubt it’d do me any good, though. I know there is no god here. Tried to call friends. Family. Anyone. Didn’t work…didn’t work at all. I’m alone.”

Day 5

“Heishereheishereheishereheishereheishere…demandssacrificedemandssacrificedemandssacrifice…oh god, the pain. Arms…hurt…painted sigils on…walls. What he wanted. What he needs…heneedsheneedsheneedsheneedsmybloodmybloodmybloodmybloodmyblood…wants to taste. Smells my…fear. The cackling…the cackling. I can hear it. Cannot see him. But the pharaoh. Oh, the howling…it’s…it’s terrible. Stop…make it stop. He will not stop. Hewillnotstophewillnotstophewillnotstophewillnostop. Oh the blood…it tastes sweet. I see why he wants…needs…must offer myself. Pick up the knife. The knife…through the knife, he shall taste the flesh and the blood. Yes…”

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WE’RE FLYING HIGH (WE’RE WATCHING THE WORLD PASS US BY)

If there’s one thing I cannot stand…it’s a lack of creativity, a lack of originality. And if there’s something else I cannot stand, is uniformity. Where are both found? In things concocted for the purposes of massification and machinification, which are always ruthlessly and violently imposed. Because if order isn’t there to be found, then anarchy reigns. Ergo, a lack of control, a lack of a grasp on what would otherwise organically develop without outside influence, a lack of things meddled with, corralled and coerced about as a result of some jackass having “a vision”.

Perhaps where this phenomenon of boring predictability manufactured to keep dullards happy and outcasts, dreamers of the dark and dangerous, sidelined, is most obvious (for those who are just entering the realm of what is dubbed “radical thought”, anyway) and therefore most glaring, most ripe for vicious and savage critiqur, is in regards to most of humanity’s views on gender and sexuality.

Cisgendered, heterosexual society and its standards serve to impose a bland, levelling, conformist, dull, unimaginative mode of existence upon everyone and everything, and despite what its root word, “hetero”, implying difference, may say, it in fact loathes any kind of sexuality or gendered/non-gendered feelings, practices, or experiences that lie outside of its all-too-arrogant norm, proudly proclaiming itself, in the vein of the Abrahamic father who spawned this accursed thing, to be the one truth, the one universal definition of “correct”, “just”, “righteous”, “moral”, etc. Many of those caught in the trap laid by swindlers who constructed the foundations for this disgrace long ago will balk at these notions, saying that it’s all nonsensical ramblings, that it’s really the gays that wish to make everything all the same, and that heterosexuality and being cisgendered are the norm because that is just the way things are, unable to picture much else outside of the stifling reality that has suffocated their minds and hearts from birth, too vapid to even make the attempt to break out of the mold.

Where heterosexuality and cisgendered ideals have really just one option, one supposedly “right” way to live, one possibility, queerness is infinity. It is chaos, a boundless array of possibilities. It can be everything and nothing (I mean these two in the most literal sense), as well as everything in between. It is unbound and unchained, broken loose from all of the fragile fetters that were born from the brains of those frightened by the reality of how things really are (namely, unknowable and unnamable lawlesslessness, pandemonium). Obviously, this conflicts quite heavily with this marauding monster called civilization, which parades around like an abusive, meatheaded drunkard, bashing, maiming, screaming, eating, and crushing everything that dares step in front of its path. Civilization desires, nay, requires, order. It is aroused most fervently by the squashing of dissent, of the fearsome other. Oh, how it shirks in terror at the mere prospect of an other. And so, it must root out any possibility of an other existing to begin with. For an other shows that it is failing, that it can’t ever succeed, and will remain a utopian pipedream for all time.

How dreadful this is, to Leviathan.

Of course, chaos is useless to civilization. All chaos does is seek to break it up, to wither it away, keep it from ever fulfilling its wishes. For chaos is natural, and civilization is very much not natural. Civilization can’t utilize chaos, because chaos, by definition, isn’t able to be bottled up and leashed. It’s never ending, always changing, forever thrashing around and escaping through whatever containment trying to box it in, leaking out and pouring out.

Now, you may ask, what does this have to do with queerness? Dear reader, it’s very simple: queerness, being chaotic, is not at all able to be reconciled with the squarely utilitarian, efficiency-minded mentality of civilization and its supporters. Cisgendered, heterosexual norms serve to keep civilization going, to keep it upright, instead of causing it to fall apart. These two things maintain order and growth, more so when they are actively propagated. Fostering progress, advancement, linear, upward development, and bolster economic activity, property, the circulation and continuation of money, etc. Queerness, if anything, actively rebels against growth and order, especially since (forgive me for stressing this part so much and repeating it) it is chaotic. Makes sense as to why civilization, since its very incarnation, has always been against the queers.

And if the pinnacle of civilization is to be found in the teachings of Jehovah/Yahweh/Allah, which is also, coincidentally (or maybe not coincidentally), a deity that champions heterosexuality and being cis, as well as law and order, progress (called millenarianism/the end of history), mercantilism, economic absurdities, and all kinds of nonsense, then it becomes all too apparent in my eyes why being queer is associated with Lucifer/Satan, the devil, deviancy and insurrection against Jesus and the cop-angels of Heaven.

Something I think queers should actively embrace.

Does it sound conspiratorially minded? A bit kooky, a bit strange? Yeah, I wouldn’t disagree.

But if one really thinks about it…

Am I wrong?

CROWS ARE SWARMIN’

You say that the rambunctiousness
And discord is little else but
Pure, jumbled mania, carnage
Without rhyme nor reason, thus
Violent; these are all true, yet it
Is the meaning of freedom, of being
Unchained, living like wolves
Rather than automatons…

Declare, you do, that the opposite,
That foul imposition of control,
Of symmetry, understandability,
Congruency, sensibility, is the
Real way of things, but outside of the
False constructs, I find this idea to
Be sorely lacking in any
Validity at all…

Pipedreams are required to even gain a
Mere sliver of a chance of fulfilling the
End goal of this inane desire, this utopian
Need for stability, boring and dull stagnation…

Outside of the idiocy of charlatans and frauds,
An individual can gaze all around and find
Zero trace of its alleged existence, for outsiders
Balk at the idea of being steamrolled over for convenience…

LURKING IN THE DARK AT NIGHT

Now I ain’t gonna bullshit you
And tell you shit ain’t bad!

That a better tomorrow’s right up ahead,
So don’t be so down and sad!

Look outside, look all around,
Gaze upon this sorry state of affairs,
Can you look me in the eye without a hint of deceit and
Honestly tell me you aren’t scared?

Hope! O’ how I wish I could,
But I’d have better luck at the end of a rope!
Woe! Does hope, even the smallest chance, do me good
As the suffocating reality starts to constrict and choke?

Death is always grinning
Just around the corner,
Perhaps as a friend or a foe…

Cheerfully waving from its position,
That old and frightful, mysterious,
Enigmatic bringer of both chaos and order,
Idly standing by, head tilted to the side,
Waiting for our only chance to be forever blown…

Point is, things are looking rough,
So hard to try and remain tough,
You’d rather give up and die!

Don’t let em win,
No matter how hard they
Wear you thin,
I’d say it’s still worth a try!

Any act of rebellion, no matter
How grandiose or how small,
Will serve to make you that much
More free from the chains that
Bind you and me, so do yourself, not
I or anyone else a favor; heed that urging call
To use your fists, and in any way you can,
Cause the system to become beaten and battered…

Push back, whether it be
Internally, via the spirit,
Or outside, with words and fists,
As you’re set into overdrive,
Due for a meltdown, reaching a limit,
Let ‘em know how much you’re fucking pissed…

Forget hope, forget any kind of future
Promised by crimson swindlers and
Apathetic, unimaginative losers!

Do what thou wilt, seize the smallest chance!

Devils we are, devils we’ll always be, so let’s do a devilish dance!

I’M OUT OF BREATH

Life and death, despite appearing to be polar opposites (which they aren’t, of course), do have one apparent thing in common: the further you get to either of them, the closer you and closer madness comes within reach. Sanity begins to take a backseat, slowly fading away, dissipating into a mere fanciful, abstract thought, a philosophical plaything. Whenever an individual is close to their expiration date, the reaper’s blade coming close to touching, every act in these last, brief moments of life stings as the cold steel inches its way into your flesh…and your mind starts to go. Likewise, in the case of dancing atop the chaotic and restless heights of ecstasy, feeling weightless and unconstrained, as though you were floating, giddy in a manner akin to a madman…here, too, does your rationality and sensibility go down the drain.

Climbing the mountains, ascending to the peaks of both existence and nonexistence, one forgoes the worldly plane, leaving behind all that tied them to this cosmic arena, the material, and thus forgets their selves, and everything else, becoming what many would dub “deranged”, “demented”. Both of these paths change a person irrevocably, never again to be the same as they were before, I’m sure you can guess. The soul aches to leave your body, and go back to its point of origin. Join once more with that mysterious origin, stretching its hands for that uppermost top, which also, paradoxically, is a gateway to an infinite abyss. Through the above, you also sink into the below. And life and death blur together into one. Madness and sanity are transcended, destroyed…and forgotten.

Stopping the heart means also the full realization of what it signifies, in all of its grandiose significance, and in a strange way…you are never more alive…

Revelation, a chance to touch the divine, always leaves those who experience it feeling somewhat…shaken. All the way to their foundation, their core. To those who have not felt it, even those who claim to be believers, those who have had the chance to be thrown into the arms of the metaphysical, will find folks like these to seem off their rocker.

But there is something else here. Something that, while possibly felt by many, isn’t commented on very much, aside from a few taking a keen interest in it, such as a notable Frenchman, an adventurous German, a Romanian chap, and a Japanese fellow.

And this…is the overlap.

It is hard to explain. Yet, there is a horizon, a kind of unknowable, unexplainable brink, where both life and death converge, merging together. The point of coalescence. Absolute energy, culminating in a vortex, as Wyndham Lewis would call it. A sharp, penetrating edge. In a sense, similar to a knife. Permeating your entirety.

Example: you receive blow upon blow to your body, as well as vice versa, towards someone else, contact being made with another in a violent fashion. Or perhaps you are running, skating, biking, maybe even lifting. The sense of pain, of being hurt, physically, and the emotional stress, the highs and lows associated with these sensations, makes you feel as though consciousness will leave you at any moment. On the other hand, every part of the body kicks into overdrive. Knowing at any point, any wrong move, could potentially fling you into a state of no longer being alive. Your mind screaming and your bones howling and your flesh yelling, reminding you that this could be the end of the road for you. Perish, you very well may. Heart pounding, veins expanding, sweat pouring down one’s skin, the throat constricting, vision blurring around the edges as it narrows and becomes immensely clear directly ahead, lungs shrinking and growing at a pace it didn’t even know it was capable of, and the nerves, the muscles, tremble and quiver, like an arrow pressed against the string of a bow, just begging to be fired.

Pain, in an odd twist of irony, makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt, even though pain is associated with the act of dying.

In the throes of being subject to both of these limits at the same time, bound up in this heavy, agonizing tension, which also, strangely enough, pleasurable and desirable, swallowed in a turbulent hurricane of pure, absolute energy, caught up in the sensations of both everything and nothing all at once, until both smash together in a supernova-like calamity of carnage and serenity…

You face reality.