Micolus the Colossus

...Like I want a sandwhich...

.....with whut....?


WITH AEVERYTHING AWN IT

[Listening to Tame Impala... a revelation!]


Greetings... I suppose I didn't learn shit from yesterday's failures, eh? Oh now, but it feels so great to just unleash one's psychological intestines upon the world. Perhaps that's a bit too dramatic, though; it's not like the words I speak or the thoughts I think are displayed on some grand screen on the neon moon, I mean come on, I'm not V...

Oh wait a minute, I am! And I'm loving it.

I was thinking some about V today, and of the epic novel in which he was the protagonist. Of course I went into a panic state of anxiety when I fully realized how much SHIT there is left to read, watch and fucking listen to, but that's a whole other story. I should be happy, I suppose, happy that I still have memories to create. Memories memories memories, all figments of our imaginations. That's why we need other people; to remember, I mean, and to be sure of what we remember. That's what the citizens of Oceania were lacking: companionship and love, and so their realities were in the hands of other, more sinister minds.

Anyway, so this fucked up Thursday made me feel physically ill. I woke up early in the morning, woken up by a dude in my class (wut), and then I went on to school. I ångested my way through exams, physics, and that wretched school-photo. Ah fuck it, I'm not going to spill out this trivia, even if its fucking necessary to prove my point. 'Dis shit ain't worth it.

Point is, (God take forever), I wished to be V and I wished to FUCK THIS LAND OF ANARCHOCAPITALISTIC-PSEUDOLIBERALISTIC-EGOALTRUISTIC STATE in its righteous fucking ass. I dreamed to be one of those 9/11 pilots (Hey hop, major treason on the way), not fighting for religion of course, but for ..

For what? Justice? no, that ain't it... Freedom? Nah, I pretty much do what I want as it is...

Moral harmony? There you go!

I would take such pride in being the one, symbolically raping the Western Civilization; this civilization of eternal slumber and uselessness; this civilization, in which stupidity and dreary is the fucking norm; this vast library of knowledge visited by analphabetics.

But as we all know, revolutions are futile, and unsuccessful. Every man fighting against the despotism, does so not on behalf of some grand idea, but for their own safety and the safety of their children, and ultimately, their own Utopia. In the beginning, it will always be exciting and joyous, for Current Society is the common enemy, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend, wasn't it so? But after a while, when the tyranny has been overcome, and the despotism is crushed, anarchy rises. Violent fucking anarchy. And this is what V knew, and so he carefully named these infantile days of Post-Revolution "The land of do as thou wilt".

Man turns into beast, for the seductive mistress of power has sung her siren songs onto him, and Man succumbs to the will of his primal ancestors.

And what next? Well, I suppose every goddamn revolution in the history of man can show you what the fuck next.

Oh hello thar Stalin, Castro, Khomeini, Napoleon, Hitler (in a sense, a revolution), and all you other gentlemen.

Not to mention the USA, born out of entrepenurial dreams of liberty and freedom. Ironic?

And FUCK reform, for that matter! Fuck slow change. What the fuck worth is a utopian vision, if its not to  occur until ten generations after your dead? Granted, reform is the only plausible way of reconstructing a society, but it fucking sucks. Regardless of one's ideology, we must all acknowledge life as one's own, and that one is the complete and undisputed ruler of oneself. obvi? So, maybe an uncertainly bright future satisfies the harmony of some but it sure as hell ain't gonna be appreciated by the Utopian inhabitants. Because to them, it is NOT fucking utopia, obviously. Everything is relative.

And so, V, I would like to join you in your Revolutionary death, for who else could have ever feel what you felt. You were the united soul of Revolution, and you were The Hatred towards despotism. And your Utopian vision, was shared by all... except logic.

"The land, of do as you please"... I shall, dear V. I shall.


[V for vendetta is one of the greatest (graphic) novels of all time, read it now... over and over again]


(Haha, now I got FRA(Fuck our Rights in the Ass) on my hands. In case your reading, FUCK YOU AND GO KILL YOURSELF. Is money and every-day life really so great, that you, without doubt, fucking infringe upon other people's integral rights? Back the fuck off, or I'll unleash hell on you. goddamned cocksucker)

ha ha, I'm not the least bit angry, sad or turbulent. I just do it for the sake of Drama. Lovely Drama.

adieu

I am bewildered. Taken aback. Forced into complete and utter obediance. I am for the first time listening to an album, which possesses such potential. Maybe not a rival to our Godly IV, but still something unique.. Or?

Jesus Christ. I think it just made song of the week.
Beatles.. what a fucking band, eh. Ah, but I'm so retarded :)        

She's leaving home..woof

Now, on to other subjects, such as anxiety and shit. There's alot of that stuff; there always is. But the girl with kaleidoscope eyes... Damnit! Focus, this is not to be another post about music!

In fact, what is this post going to be about? See, I always crave writing when I return home from school, to feel productive and anti conformous (micling.. i think?). The problem is, however, that school is one of them cow milking machines condoned by EU [Eternally Useless]. The milk being brain juice, of course. Or?

I'm sorry this was just really retarded, and I have no idea why I do things anymore. I have a test tomorrow. So what? What do you care? What does anyone care, for that matter

I'm off reading some Foundation to relax, and then, perhaps I'll be able to post something worth reading, it is just very important that I manage to stop my citizens from...

or?

My hands are so fucking cold as its passing subzero out deaah.
I have eaten, but yet not food, myes. Bacon clogs my veins mwaha

Beside me, ta tah, lies a feast! Two pairs of Vegeteirian sausage (french pronounc.) and two Hwite(brrrittish) loafs of bread and potatoMUSH. I LOVE POTATOMUSH.

And a whole lotta ketchup

And a whole lotta love. Short stories are on the way, fellers. About life and death and "dat be sum deep shit"-deep stufff.f

f.f  what an awesome smiley

adieu (is dat even hao das spelled?)


...and oh yes, I forgot.. Daim-O'boy milk!

Today it is time for celebration! And guess what, it has nothing to do with The Micolus or anything stupid like that! It is purely 1st level depth celebration for a just cause! Today I received such glad news :)

Welcome back! I thought I wouldn't see you for a long fucking time



And somewhere, deep down in the fifth or sixth level, a desperate wailing is heard. Heard, and neglected!

Joy                       

The best time of one's life is had when one is recovering from loads of awesome and knows that there's still more to come.

A partied weekend ahead, a partied weekend in the past. And no effect on regular life.

still, I should time the waves. BUT this is a huge wave of awesome so it is fucking permissable :)
or am I being weak?

adieu

Tomas Di Leva - Dansa Din Djävul



Granted it was late, and granted I was eating bacon, but nevertheless that feeling remains; that bewildering feeling of complete and utter self loss. This song, sung to me by a previously pretty unknown musical genius, really has it all. A perfectly composed politically relevant set of lyrics, which may work on several levels, accompanied by a most fitting musical theme. I absolutely adore the various cuts, bringing one back and forth from the world of enthusiasm and rage.

Also, it is the mood it was played in. Three lovely bacon eaters wrapped in a Looney Toons blanket, just being fucking awesome. [Tazzzz]

And Sylvestroo







"Nummer tre: Prestera! Beräkna! Förfalska!"


Candidates: Dungen: Festival/ Pink Floyd: Us and Them/ The Doors: I Can't See Your Face in my Mind


adieu

Red Dawn

And in the history book, he reads:

He reads of an empire, old and weak
A despotism
An unjust hierarchy
With unjust aristocracy

A world of fatal mistakes
Without learning
A world in denial
Without joy
A world aging faster
Racing towards
A bitter and inevitable end

The great enterprise
Was to decide the life
Of the empire
And of the despotism
The great enterprise
However
Failed

But, my child, that is all in the past
And you have arrived into a new world
A joyous world
A world of hope and dreams
In line with the will of fate

For, my child
From the ruins of this dead empire
Rose a new nation
Strong and full of life
Your nation

And we all wait to see
What the red dawn
May bring us

Perhaps it is a mirage
A mere trick
But regardless of which
The sun brightens our day
Burning red
In the horizon

Dungen: Sol och Regn

This is something else. An instrumental piece of heaven. I was walking from my mom's place to my dad's ( an hour's walk) and just when I was approaching those blue-ish houses of conformity, I felt the need to stop; stop, to truly be able to enjoy this piece of musical mastery. Someonce called me on my cell, I didn't answer. Those were probably some of the best minutes of my life post-revolution, and I still think about them. Those four minutes, were those of "Sol och Regn". A song created by the Swedish neo-prog/psychedelic band, which I'm going to see in December(!!!!!!!).

Anyway, so I decided, when walking back, that I should in some way honor this song, and so I wrote a little something to accompany the song:


[00.00]

It is a beautiful day in Illyria, and into the forest steps a lone adventurer, treading lightly over the green cushions beneath. He stops to smell the flowers, and is taken aback by their stunning beauty. In the middle, alone and brave, rises a red flower so high.

She kisses him, and his mind drifts away into infinite seas. Lost, together


[00.14]

As their lips meet a second time, the most poetic violin cries out its joy. Everywhere around the flowers, creatures appear, large and small alike, to gather around the violin and take part in the poetry.

[00.44]

Their lips separate, and the summer leaves only to return next year; next kiss. Meanwhile, the violin sends away its newfound friends and decides to create a forest of its own, built only out of the pain it cries. And slowly an orchestra of violinal creatures appear.


[01.31]

Their lips meet a third time and summer opens its sleepy eyes. Horrified by the new violin forest, a most joyous wooden creature appear to battle the violin. Face to face with the it stands the great flute. They sing together to the flowers, each one drowned in the other's beauty.

[02.12]

A tear runs down the red flowers long and slender body, for again she must be separated from her eternal love; her other half. He weeps as he  once again finds himself dressed in those horrid adventurer's clothes. No more white beautiful leaves, only flesh and bone. Winter creeps across the lands once more.

The creatures now sleep in silence, as the lonely spring guitar strums life back into the flowers, and into the lone adventurer. And when the sun breaks through, the flute begins a welcoming serenade, only for it to merge into the most perfected and beautiful colours together with the violin and the wooden creatures. All is now well as they joyously cry their tribute to the flowers of passion and emotion.

[03.27]

And 'tis indeed the third summer of their love and so the green wizard appears from the great beyond to carry out the orders of the eternal dice. He steps forward to the loving couple and he separates them from one another. Never more shall the flower know of the man's lust and agonizing passion. And never more shall the man know of the flower's depth and beauty. The man shall go on and destroy the flowers, and the earth; its loving mother.

And so the last and final winter appears. The winter of mankind, and nothing shall ever cry or sing again...





(Candidates: Rush: Hemispheres/Led Zeppelin: The Ocean/ Deep Purple: No no no)



One of the best instrumental songs on the planet

adieu

The Doors

It was not too long ago that I was for the first time in my life embraced by the beautiful voice of Jim Morrison. I remember pressing that play-button, having never really heard anything by them xcept "the end" (which, by the way, is one of my all-time favorite songs). T'was a late may night, at the house of madness, and my soul received blow after blow, 'til I was at last forced into the realms of music, so that I could, for once, forget the misery I was in.

And something magical occured.

A week later, sitting on that Mariestad-bus, I chose oh so wisely, to listen to the album of perfection: strange days.

And oh what an album. I struggled my way through it, and it told me more about myself than I could've ever imagined.



Nevertheless, it wasn't until August that I first was engulfed by the true essence of The Doors' perfection. Waiting for the Sun. What a fucking album. What a fucking piece of awe. The lyrics of this band are fucking incredible; Jim is a poetical genius. Abstract fantasy mixed with pure psychedelia. Nuff said, The Doors are one of the best bands in the musical history and the month of August belongs to them.

Totally




There were of course other candidates as well, and I should honor the most prominent ones:

Dungen/Rush/Pink Floyd/Wu Tang Clan

I am lacking creativity... or at least bloggish creativity, and so I have been thinking: What does this site need? What does my legions of followers crave, or demand if you will? And as clearly as that day on the holy mountain of Jeremiah, a light appeared before me. It spoke to me not in words, but in thoughts and dreams. It suggested a musical theme. A frequent every-week thing in which I pay my respects to a certain song in my playlist. The words appeared in my mind, as if I myself had conjured them. "Song of the week", they said.

And so I shall institute this "Song of the Week" as a tribute to any song which has had a certain effect on me that week. I presume I shall mostly post delightful songs, but one cant be too sure. I will, however, motivate my choice in an honorable manner. Also, be advised, these are NOT necesarily my "favorite songs", they merely happen to reflect certain emotions I might feel in that particular week.

"Yes, my lord, we shall work dilligently, God King Micolus II"

The great white light also hinted at something else. It took me a while before I managed to decipher its complex puzzles but at last I found the answer: It wanted me to pay my respects not only to the song of the week, but also to the band of the month. And so, I leave you now, with a pathetic filler post.

adieu

Va akharesh bargashtim dige...

Back from a fucking Weekend! A perfectly timed wave of joy. By the way, that's how you should do it. Life, I mean.  Society forces a certain amount of waves upon us; waves, which we have no control of, such as work/weekend or night/day. Some people choose to even these waves out by making work time more fun, thus depriving the weekend of its exclusivity, but I, however, profess the wavulent(micling) life; the life of travel between the worst of depressions to the most wonderful exctacy possible. upDOWNUPdown

"We are successful on this day, brethren, and we must remember this moment. We have been presented with the same kinds of promises and obstacles as the empire of old, but we have managed them oh so differently. My love goes out to you, citizens! For a new dawn has come to cleanse us from our wicked past. A new sun, and who knows? Perhaps it is time to engage in the Second Enterprise of Micolan history. Who knows?"

My heart is filled with the adventurer's lust

beauty



...bargashtim be kar o zendegi, va yek joori bayad begzarim

http://www.aftonbladet.se/wendela/article7835918.ab#abArticleComments



Hello, fellow burgers and burgettes


...like, I sucked this dick once...


Obstacles surround me; they seem to be following me around. I don't know whether these obstacles are, in reality, hindering me from achieving my wondrous goals or whether they are fictional and exist only to make the road more adventurous. Either way, they are hard to overcome. Either way, they are real... in my mind.

-The third level of depth-

Whenever I philosophize with someone, or whenever I'm talking with someone without my usual manipulative agendas, I feel a sting of sorrow when I realize that all these wonderful and well thought out words should be lost in time. For what in this world will remember? The other party of course, and me. But since I conversed with the other party without any real agenda, I have nothing to gain from that memory. A gained friend is a gained friend, and won't be more unless the other party is carrying potential of being more...

I'm losing track

Point is, I want more people to realize the deity within me; to appreciate its greatness the way I do; to worship me, and how can that be done when I spill out all my depth and creativity on the already illuminated..

The problem with the social situation is the same as with anything: greed.


I would also feel extremely slimey and fake, should I repeat those illuminative arguments to someone else, even if that someone else has no particular connection to aforementioned conversee.

Messy but true

...and it felt so good

And so another day slips away

Another week

Another season

And the cycles shall meet in bigger cycles yet, until the Great Clockwork of Time is rendered undone.


Even in exposing the magician, one remains subject to the omnipotent strings of illusion...delusion


I was walking today with my cous. Though it was nice and all, it got me thinking... about the usual stuff of course, but thinking nonetheless. I realized that I hadn't had much time for hardcore contemplation ever since the revolution, and I feared that all that I had achieved should be lost. But alas, the contrary! The administration is up and running! The reforms are functioning and peace is restored.

until just now.

A huge force, a strike rather, of the old haunts me. Let's just hope that these walls will resist...

Fuck
me

I should probably become productive, as soon as my rellies leave. If I'll make it 'til then






On a more joyous note: I'm going to fucking Amsterdam :D (16th-20th Feb)

I know, it's kinda "thatswhattheotherbloggersaredoing, writingbouttheirtripsandmundaneshitlifesandallbutIdontcarecuzIownyoumothfucks"

adieu                                                                                                                                 خدا حافظ

Thought I should check in with you... one does seem to get a new perspective on things as time passes, but here we are, in the midst of an election and I suppose it is my duty as a douche to comment on it



There's not much to say, really. As expected, the blue blooded beasts took hold of the power today, in line with the general blue wind blowing all through Europe. The right's hold of the "free" media has grown ever stronger, and the age of pseudo-liberalism has become reality. This election shows a clear transition of power, perhaps not political, but popular. The right has seized control of the mainstream, and the socialist dreamland Sweden is but a memory.

However, I am relieved. Relieved to know that I'm not part of the majority; relieved to know that my values deviate from those of the masses (Although 5.6% isn't that exclusive, but you get the picture). Why? Because I've seen the masses. I've seen the giant blobs of silent conformities, and for that blob to share my values, my thoughts, would be worse than any rightist/nationalist government.

And the fighting spirit flows through my veins


And come to think of it, it was a pretty damn good result in itself. T'will probably cause a stagnation in Swedish politics for the next four years, les they manage making MP betray their ideals... Swedish democrats, eh. It didn't come as a surprise really, nor did the blue victory. It is the political landscape from now on that is interesting. How will they "solve this crisis". idk, but it sure as hell is amusing to follow.

The working class is being moved to third world countries and all that remains is a fat and wealthy bourgeois. A bourgeois which will continue to thrive in the welfare that little mambutus all around the world create for them. But alas, we do not see it with our own juvenile eyes, and so we can't be held responsible for our twisted deeds...

Jimmie Åkesson, my friend, you just made my day, now go out there and coerse Fredrik into collaboration. And we shall have a red government 2014... at last

What I find strange about the human race is how we don't realize that we are completely and utterly alone until we're at last by ourselves

It's hard, but its possible--sometimes--to accept The Myself as an omnipotent and intrinsic(ha-ha) deity. To converse with oneself, not only in solitude, but also when among other Selves. Fictional Selves. Unreal selves.

By my side sits a dear cousin, typing away in his lappy laptop

To the beautiful vocals of Jim Morrison

I like how one becomes addicted to news and updates. It's literally a drug, where the climaxial release lies in having the upper hand as well as passing the drugs onto the next person in the updatial ladder, i.e telling someone something that they were not yet aware of. Site after site has fallen under Micolan rule and they have all been merged into my masterplan.... Now, everytime I turn on my computer, there they are; those beautiful sources of pure cocaaiina

wat?

Anyway so there was this party yesterday. The spirit of the party flowed through my veins and it was awesome. However, those joining me in the blasphemous ritual were not of my particular taste; it was a class-party (wow some things just sound weird in English). Anyway, it's no wonder they call it a secondary "family"; you don't get to choose who you're about to spend the rest of your life with (or you know, three years)

There's a charm to that as well.. You're more or less forced to speak with people, with whom the likes you would never even have had gone near, had it been by your own rules

I do fancy messy grammar

gday

YoYo Blog, what’s happening. I want to be famous. Click me!

I, the great and oh so divine Sir Lordaeus Micolus II, have received the great honor, by our Holy Father, to announce our first ever decree as a new and enlightened land. Ah yes, a new land indeed, and what a land too! Our plains, tormented by draught and exploitation, flourish under the new heavenly light. Our rivers, which stood still stained by the blood of generations, now run freely across our green lands, and down the infant’s cheek. The sky! Oh the sky! The greatest and most prominent blessing of all. The smog black legions of toxicity and despair roamed the heavens for too long. And for too long did their fury rain over the us, but now. Now we have prevailed!

(Cheering)

And now, to the very first decree of the New Micolan Empire:

“We are all as one under the grand banner of our Holy Father

We know this, for we are all descendants of The Great Micolaea

And we all acknowledge Her power

Every thought, we may think

Every move, we may make

Every word, we may speak

Are all to be in the service of The Greater Good

Any one man, who may differ or show neglect

Must be confronted and converted

And should all else fail

Do not hesitate to dispose of them

In the Name of our Holy Father

Micolus”

 

(Audience once again cheers, almost hysterically)

 

Yes! Yes! Our dreams have come through, fellow men and women of the revolution; our dream has finally come through!

 

It would not be long ‘fore the dreams of the once so proud revolution would be shattered, and all that would remain would be shards of the old kingdom, the TRUE kingdom of Micolus I. but alas the “Great Enterprise” failed, and the old kingdom could’ve existed no more.

 

But we are yet in the early stages of the revolution, let’s enjoy it while it’s still here.

 

“Ignorance is bliss”, wasn’t it so? I seem to recall a world where all else was forgotten; all our childhood dreams; all our great projects. And all this really is, is forcing the clock forward, while creating a pleasant memory for oneself. Memories, that’s all we have left of our visions and of our unyielding convictions. And memories tend to vanish… forever

I have refrained from writing for a couple of weeks now. Partly because of the wretched school, stealing my precious time and partly because I’ve not had the slightest need to do so. I think maybe that need is returning, even though the glorious school forces me to use my creativity for its sake, almost every day. I’ll try, however, with the little juice I’ve got left, to keep this running; this pathetic little charade; this fiction, in which I stand iterating my truths to the caring masses. Ah, yes.

 

The wounds are deep and the blood stains the floor, but by the Gods, I am free at least. It is as if though I’m floating in the skies without the slightest of burdens, and I can’t help but smile. But what is a smile worth, should it not have been birthed by an ocean of tears, at the bottom of an infinite abyss? And what is it worth, should it not be buried in the very same place?

 

I don’t know what it is that I have learned, but I know that I have been elevated to seemingly glorious heights. My gaze is directed at the future; at the sun, and I am confident that I will pass the many tests, waiting for me past the horizon. Confident, and contented.

 

As for now, I have a smashed schedule to attend to, and I shall see to it that my night shall be a night of peace, and so I must leave you with many yet unwritten and yet unformulated thoughts.

 

I’m so back

 

Adieu