ychr:

Kathaarian Life Code, from Norwegian band Darkthrone’s A Blaze In The Northern Sky (1991),a classical black metal album. Ten-minute epic. Oh, and don’t be put off by the intro. It gets faster.

(via rapeyourmotherkillyourdog)

mystck:

Mirrorthrone - The Fecal Rebellion

What is this strange blaze in the Western sky
Confusingly recalling an endless cry,
Echoing weakly throughout the horizon,
Flying blindly to an hazardous destination?

Night and day it stands fiercely there
In such a pernicious and piercing glare,
Holding its terrible secret for itself
And ignoring the pitiful, plaintive prayers.

Few are those who seem to see it
And yet the reflection in their eyes
Wakes in the beholder such disgrace to commit
Unavowable tragedies, mother of any demise.

What is this gangrene cankering above our heads
Slowly waking in us all the denied dreads
Buried and chained deeply within our breasts
Sworn to be forgotten, but alas in vain manifests?

Is this just a human extension,
A part of ourselves thrown in the outside
Or is it, implying great tension,
An exterior object we can only try to abide?

Should our dreaded nightmares have become flesh
And suffocate us in their rotting stench?

Could it be that the filth dishes we kept leaving behind us, for our children to finish because human feces weren’t to our taste but probably to theirs, because yes they must love our shit and swallow it with delight; could those denied full plates of wet muddy crap one day decide to rebel against their left and forgotten state and throw themselves within our tyrannically bourgeois mouths?

Well yes, this is what is happening
Like the newborn child the mother gives birth to:
The extension of her flesh suddenly becoming
A free identity; no more one but two.
And when the child loses ingenuousness,
And in the womb and sting sees no more love,
Not vanished, but never enclosed! Disdainfulness!
Iron spikes grow from the just fallen doves.

Falling on the knees,
Infected with a sudden disease;
Those foreign hands around their neck
Leaving the body lifeless, a sunken wreck.
Falling on the knees,
Infected with a sudden disease:
The fecal rebellion.
The roarstorm of the lion.

frlcker:

do u ever wonder how many people’s dreams you have been in

(Source: studip, via ashara182)

egberts:

when a slow download finally finishes

image

(via agameofmoans)

Lena Headey on meeting the Queen

(Source: titansdaughter, via viseriontargaryen)

I have 748 followers and only like 2 of you are friends

maybe if more people talked to me I’d use this site more

Tags: ;(

Now arrived at the dusk of my aeonic existence
But yet, too short
My hands are bound in my back with a thorny rope
And yet, so tight

Raising my prophetic gaze one last time
The only things I meet are blight
And contempt, vomited by all those mouths
United by the dogmatic boundaries of so-called human decency

Unanimously condemned by a mislead humanity
And yet, too quickly
For daring to bother the established with cosmic words
And yet, so true

Thus destined to such vile death
A revengeful spectacle for the shocked memory
I look at the fire burning higher and higher around me
Already suffocated by the smoke’s hypnotic breath

I suddenly feel a freezing warmth
Like boiling acid rolling on my body
From my feet to my chest
The flames are devouring me

Vile mass exalting christlike fantasies
I will not wash your sins
For of all the scourges your sick mind creates, my body i s free
As it has ever been and will always be

The pseudo heroic act of self-castration
Reanimated their old morbid satisfaction
Again, repeating time and abandon
They missed their target and reached perversion.
Deafened by the morbid pulse
Roaring in their ears and spreading its curse
All their mouths were sinisterly open
For their blaming how to straighten

No sacrifice hidden behind this murder
You deserve nothing but a contemptuous laughter
Your cause is senseless, so is my agony
Staining your hands forever with blood of perfidy

Forget all your neurotic constructions
And face the source of your dissatisfaction
One last time
One last time…
Or have all my attempts always been vain
Disregarded, lost under disdain?
Could all my scars and wasted blood
Only be remembered by the silent mud?
Sucked away from each infected memory
Vanishing under each gaze, inexorably?

During this everlasting agony
A smile distorted my cracked lips
One last time
For even though my time had gone
Somewhere a seed had been sown

One last time my thoughts wandered free
Beholding future hatching potentialities

I hate you world
I wasn’t made for you…

Alas…

bull-in-an-abattoir:

Proof of how good Mirrorthrone is.  “A Scream to Express the Hate of a Race”

And no, he is not racist.  It’s a misanthropic title against the entire human race.