cahrizz

all right all right. today is a special sort of day. today i'd like to begin to honor one of my all time favorite bands and make the band of the day. nine inch nails. some things won't be mentioned reguarding tight leather pants and a certain singer pushing very violently against them, bent over ass to the crowd. how they blew up my mind at a young and impressionable age. how just listening to his records i can renew a rage that's exisistence one must believe has to do something with my fascination with alleyways and other dark corners in the city where rot has taken a hold.

but the other day my friend after playing a little skinny puppy tossed in the newest nin record and frankly what speaks volumes is his tender, aganst unrequieted love. a lesson truely in idealizing other humans and trying to take that idealization and drag it through shit. somehow put upon it baudelaire's penchent for the cast down lot. and in the same breath let us say rimbaud. the blazing lover.

now we shall let go of the professorly way of dealing and brushing of generalities and go deep and dark. twist about and recall watching nin faux snuff videos over and over and over again on repaet on loads of lsd. and let us recall the drum circle we made. fuck it let's quote now,

"you're keeping in step in your life.. got your chin held high and you feel just fine. cause you do, what you're told. but inside your heart it is black and it's hollow and it is cold. just how deep do you believe? when you bite the hand that feeds. when you chew until it bleeds. can you get up off your knees? are you brave enough to feed? do you want to change it?

what if this fucking fades, this charade. and behind it all there's a price to be paid for the blood which we dined.
just a violent name for the holy and the divine. just how deep do you believe? will you bite the hand that feeds. will you chew until it bleeds? will you get up off your knees? are you brave enough to feed? do you want to change it?

will you bite the hand that feeds you? will you stay down on your knees? will you bite the hand that feeds you? will you bite the hand that feeds you?......"

i'm sorry i'm missing a bit but well i'm not with my usual mountain of copious notes. this is is a fucking rage soaked song as any. i can't help but feel genet has been invoked. old burroughs all ready to piss on any number of bibles not because they don't really believe but because they want to break free from the prison they had to grow in. and it's everywhere. these fucking male goathered religions spill more blood in the name of the one and and in the name of his son--money. i'd say it'd be an interesting intilation to see some christ on the cross constantly bleed oil. or cruify a dollar bill or something. when so many of us hate and disbelieve in a system that we continually support and become a part of is there really a question of the system or our individuality. everytime i listen to this i get in a bit of trouble. because the first fucker that pulls rank on me gets a taste of how much i hate this servility. slavery. oh yeah sure i get paid. shit i might add. sure there's a roof over my head. but it lacks something definitive. the ability to do and say as i please. the repercussions are of course imprisonment into a prison that still breaks rocks. death is always a possiblity. or they release me and out into the world i go where should i require of the system some bread and milk for sustance i will curtly be rejected. it is at these moments i want to carve into my flesh and feel at least the sweet release and freedom of my blood as it ours forth and goes where only the physics of the world dictate. dear me oh my i want pain and pain i'll get. make a cut and let that sting of the hydro peroxide burnnnnnnn. yum. prostralize myself and beg some god whom i have fought from being apart of my days does nothing. but my new and only god is the page. and then i shall put myself on my kness and whip and whip my back but it don't work so easy as that for me. i need the edge of sanity. the edge of reality the blurred line of suffering and death.

in case you are wondering if i am the sick fuck. well yes and no. i do appologize for doing this here, but i am creating a character. since there are obvious similiarities sometimes in my empathiticmoments allow him to share much of my own history. this will soon be trimmed away. he will have been in the army. he will not be a writer most likely. he will suffer from the need to self inflict pain upon himself, i do not adhere to this as deeply as he does. i do like dwelling a bit in the edge but certainly not as vindictively as does this character.

anyway peace in the middle east HA,
chris