It's raining ash today

I was here before you were born. I was here before most things were born. I have been a desert. I have been a mountain. I have been the core, the mantle, the magma. I have been a river, a sea, a cloud. I have been one thousand rocks, ten thousand apes, one million birds. I have been a solar eclipse, a tidal wave and the gravitational pull of Saturn. I saw your first ancestor crawl out of the murky waters in search of food. I have seen men rape, loot and pillage in search of immortality. Immortality is an illusion or rather a disillusion. Noone that seeks immortality is really prepared for it. I have lived for one million epochs and I have watched things die around me slowly yet steadily. I have lived and I will keep on living.

Call me conduit. Call me ascendant. Call me the forgotten.

I am half the eternal conflict. The blind goat-god in the center of the universe. Chaos dances to the music I make.

I have spent the last thousand of your pathetically minute years watching you. Watching from atop a hill. You call it a mountain. You don't know what a mountain looks like. I am the oldest one here. The others here call me Elder and ask me for advice. What a bunch of pathetic sheep. I pretend to be crazy and unable to hear them. I seem to be the only one that remembers.

I watch you from up here, leading your busy lives. Like little ants, passing each other, waving your antennae at each other for a split second then moving on. You crawl back and forth. From hole to hole. One thousand years. That's how long I've been watching. It's not alot for me. I bet your small mind couldn't even begin to comprehend it.

I am force unstoppable. I am object immovable. I am impact. I am unstoppable force stopped. I am immovable object moved. I am roaring fire consuming your world. I am drowning ocean quenching your lives' fire. I am biting frost making the water hurt. I am plague. I am sulfur. I am fire and blade.

One thousand years. I've been here for one thousand years and I would be for thousands more if it wasn't for your petty motives. If it wasn't for this fire on my feet. This smoke in my eyes. The ash in my hair. I will transform soon. I will never end. I will always be here. Watching you from somewhere else. Maybe a bird this time. Or a rock. Or maybe even a blade of grass. Perhaps a roaring flame...

Έλληνα ροκ, καουμπόη, το μπόι σου μέτρα

πόσα καμμένα δεντράκια για μια μεζονέτα

Insert catchy and slightly moody title here

Get a job. To get more money. To get a car. To get to work.
Make more money. Make some babies. Make them miserable. Make yourself happy.
Do your duty. Do your work. Do my dirty work scapegoat. Do tell.
Go figure. Go with the flow. Go lie down for a bit. Go fuck yourself.




Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from ?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong ?

Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near.
Look at him working. Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there
What does he care?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

She will die

There once was a king with three beautiful daughters. Each one was more beautiful than the sky itself. The first sold her soul to the devil in exchange for eternal life and beauty in fear that she would grow old and her beauty would wither. She became a fertility goddess in deep dark Africa. The second bedded with an angel and gave birth to a son. Then she turned into a tree. Her son climbed on her, grew wings and flew away. She still stands there, roots in the ground, leaves in the sun. The third one, became a whore. She sold her beauty by the pound to anyone who would buy it. She fell in love with a young man who couldn't care less about her. She died miserable and alone, but the oh-so merciful gods gave her a second chance to life. They turned her into a flower that matched her human beauty.

And Georgia O' Keefe drew a picture of her.

A Glasgow kiss

All things are pocket sized if your ass is big enough.

All other things considered equal, fat people use more soap.

Oh, fuck this, I can't be bothered now...

Mmmm... Brains!

Kill the Zombies... Kill them good.

Click here to commence the unnecessary bloodshed.

Come see my cage, built in my grave

Paris Hilton is in jail... good.

Walt Disney is dead... good.

Habemus Papam... not so good.

When you die you are put in a hole in the ground... good.
When I die I ain't goin' to heaven... good.
The best parties are thrown in hell... good.

If we killed all the cows we wouldn't have a greenhouse effect problem... don't see why cattle should pay for our shortcomings.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are made of the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We are all part of the same compost heap. We are the all-singing all-dancing crap of the world.

Plastic and petroleum are dead dinosaurs.

Sausages are dead pigs.

Couches are dead trees.

Houses are dead earth.

Windows are dead beaches.

And the Lord looked upon His work and He saw it was good... wouldn't we all like to write our own reviews.

I understand and don't care, well, the skyscrapers look like gravestones from out here. - Acid Bath

Lest we forget little ants. Let it pour. We built this, come death.

This bog is thick and easy to get lost in
when you're a dumbass, beligerent fucker -Tool

Hermetically shut

According to Norse mythology, the wall that enclosed Asgard was destroyed during a war between the Vanir and the Aesir, leaving the gods vulnerable to an attack by the giants.

One day, an itinerant stonemason named Blast came to Asgard and offered to rebuild the wall if the goddess Freya would consent to be his wife. He asked for the sun and the moon as well. The gods wanted the wall rebuilt but the terms stated by the mason were outrageous. However, the god Loki proposed a way of outwitting the mason and getting at least part of the wall rebuilt for nothing. The gods agreed to the payment asked by the mason, but only if the work was completed within six months. The mason insisted that he be allowed to use his stallion, Svadilfari, in rebuilding the wall.

The work proceeded much more rapidly than the gods had anticipated and they began to worry that the mason might have to be paid after all. The god Odin threatened to kill Loki if the wall was completed within the allotted time. Loki saw that the mason's horse was doing the heavy hauling and he devised a plan to deprive the mason of the help of his horse. Taking the form of a young mare, Loki lured the stallion into a thicket and made sure that he remained there until the next day. When Svadilfari returned to his master it was too late to complete the work. The mason became so angry that he revealed his true form, that of a rock giant. The god Thor dispatched the giant with a mighty blow of his hammer, Mjollnir.

Months later, Loki returned to Asgard. He brought with him a gray colt with eight legs, the foal of Loki the mare and Svadilfari the stallion. He gave it to Odin, saying that its name was Sleipnir. The colt could travel over land and sea and through the air.

My Wall

And I do walk upon Wan’s Dyke
And I do survey the land
And I did become the Reaper with my own bare hands
For I am Wodan,
Though, some call me Hermes,
Some call me Roman Mercury,
God of cargos,
God of weather,
Hanging God of boundaries,
Hanging God of Gibbet Hill
Killing God of hidden doorways.