Micolus the Colossus

It is so quiet down here. It is as if the very scope of life itself has shrunk into the size of a pea, lying in the midst of a dark unknown field of wonders... and of horrors. It is as if illusion, or self created reality(to the extent that one does not derive one's ideas directly from the mind of another human being), has been called in to fill the tar black reality with its unpredictable colours. Yes its quiet here, and calm, and though the objective world is more wide spread here, it is so ridiculously easy to penetrate that not one concept can be taken seriously. Perfect examples of evolution, read like an open book - oh what pain to be borne here, but let me tell you, it is far more beautiful than anything back home.

Families, traditions, morals. Religion. A feeling of debt which does not give rise to pain or anguish. Duty, one might call it, a duty to serve and to be served alike - altruism at its finest, that is to say, altruism concentrated solely on those close to oneself. Now in the long run, being the person that I am, I find it excrutiatingly hard to withhold this mentality for any serious amount of time, because of the inevitable differences that follows the whole not being able to choose one's relatives and so forth. But this is of course easily solved by hand picking friends and basically not giving more than a very primitive and basic shit about parents etc etc. UNLESS of course they are friend material - or at least tolerable to be along side with.

Isn't it weird knowing that if your parents, or the ones "taking care of you" wouldn't have that relation to you, you would probably not want to be close to them for one second considering them inbred (mentally) disgusting freaks? That is of course, if that's not how you already view them...

Why am I babbling... I guess I just miss this; writing, communicating. I feel like screaming. God, West has ruined me. How am I supposed to live when all my breaths are taken for the account of someone else? What purpose do my thoughts have, if their sole meaning lies in impressing or persuading others?

I repeat the same "mistake" as the others - considering a human to be built of different stuff than any other thing in this world, being unique and divine.

Truth is though, we are in our own way, from our own eyes, which are the only eyes with which we can see. So why complicate things?

Eating a beige goo together with freshly picked onions and flat Sangak bread, cooked in a scorching hot stone oven.
Feeling like most things are pretty allright. Everywhere around me shines the Islamic Swastica of Allah and I'm beginning to seriously appreciate living under physical oppression; at least here one's mind can walk freely in the plains of one's own creation..

Tomorrow I'm off to Shiraz, for the first time in my life. Shiraz, the most antique city of Iran, situated in the midst of the vast deserts of mid-Iran. To Persepolis, where the remains of (if one should believe the surviving propaganda) true cultural enlightenment and freedom, lies buried under the ash and dust of Alexander's physical might.

AllahuAkbar

The wheels of Amsterdam Part II are turning, and its grease is working better than I thought. purrrr. Also, I'll get a beautiful one day ticket to Hultsfred to be a part of a Mass psychotic alcoholic frenzy.... and to see Dungen and MF DOOM!

yaya, me me me.

It is so good being away, in the heat, being given the opportunity to shine new light upon things and reprocess all which has been thought before. I once again feel that ever sought feeling of tininess which always washes over me as soon as the ties are cut , even if it is just temporary, and it is like a drug to me. Upon receiving this feeling, one of course takes a minute of two to contemplate things to get a more clear idea of what one wants with oneself. 

There will be changes, and big ones too. For too long have I subjected myself to a self created hell back home. So I move to new lands, both physically and metaphorically, away from the couch dwellers, who thrive in their own filth too weak to know what they really want - away from the false pioneers, who in their desperate need for an ambition, sell themselves to a collective will.

Away from the sinful slavery of sleep, and away from the virtuous slavery of travel.

Most of you have dissapointed me this far. Most of you.. if not all.

Set me the fuck free.


Moreover, I'm having a strange but awesome time, the only thing clouding it being the memory of Home.

boro baba toham, mikhasti majale onjoori biyaram berat migereftan maro yek balahi saremon miendakhtan..

Don't die just yet -

vali midooni ke jah hast... va har vaght tasmim gerefti biyay, faghat yek zang bezan... khosh amadi



It's 35 degrees, night, damp and relatively windy. Wounded cats tread upon their dystopic asphalt world, as the negligent men talk and boast about their many ways of doing things. Ideas are formed and lost, as this godforsaken country steps into the light of westernization; into the beauty of calculus and preservation; into our fucking palace of immortality.

Yesyes, come come, of course you are all welcome. Big neon signs advertise the new way. Come come, and make sure to feed off of the eternal bread which will never make you fat - until the taste itself vanishes, in the ocean of inflation which we are all so joyously dreaming about.

fuck you

I'm off far away in the land of the aries, living a life of dreams. Wish you could be here..

Anyway, here are some pics from graduation day :D (pics of Iriri will come upon my arrival back into the icicle. (don't worry raz, you're like the only reader xD)

ring ring

This cell phone of mine has been a rarely loyal comrade to me indeed. It has stuck with me all throughout my travels and survived, being the ideal example of cheap technology done right. Oh how I loved that phone - now it is dead, however, and although I will miss it dearly and mourn it well, one cannot claim that it didn't have a life worthy of kings.
Three times did the phone stare into the eyes of death before it was finally taken away by that horrid beast yester, three times did it cheat death. I must tell you this story, so as to honor my fallen companion.

First was in the mystical town of Enköping. It was the day before a concert and I was taking a walk by myself listening to the white album. I was alone in an alien town walking towards a far off water tower, which was illuminated beautifully by the orange lights below. What else can one do in these situations, but dance? The thing about me though is that anything I do, I do in bursts. I sprint, I do not run marathons (that is solely a metaphor, I neither sprint nor run marathons, I sit). So instead of dancing rythmically with the music and with a constant flow of energy, I jump up and down insanely for 10 seconds afterwhich I calm down, look around myself, and walk quietly with my head down.
So, as you might've guessed, the cell phone fell out of my pockets during one of these bursts. It wasn't til the following day that I noticed the missing phone and then we were already heading towards Sonisphere.

During the concerts I didn't really think about it but sometimes it popped up to give me anxt. When we returned from what had been an extremely rainy day, I set out for a desperate walk along the same path I'd taken two nights before - and what do you know, there it was, in the middle of the grass, completely wet and off. Then it was just a matter of drying it and it started working again - FUCK yeah, I loved my cell :/

Number two was shorter but just as lethal. I was coming on home from a magical flyfest in the residence of The Rah, with no thoughts on anything else but getting home and finishing a delicious meal. It was nighttime but the community roller still showed up bravely on the spot when the need had risen. Upon leaving Shahr-e-Mariam I received a glorious feeling as my portable all-in-one band sprayed jizz all over me. And it was of course this glorious feeling, which leaved me to forget my cellie when stepping out of the bus. Punishment. However, I managed to scout the error in time - that is to say, when I got inside - and the hunt began. Coincidentally, I was borne with the luck of living ridiculously close to the station where the roller would go on to sleep the night out. So I rushed towards the station, through the icy streets, casting their neon reflections on my burning eyes, and reached the sleeping horse. After having to convince a guy that the good feeling he would get from helping me would be worth his two minutes of time and being mocked by that same guy for being so forgetful, I managed to retrieve my beloved and all was once more well in Myland.

The third was as a matter of fact very recently, as close as a week back if I remember correctly. I was on my way to the lovely little lake of Karstorp (skövde's Ganges) to meet up with a couple of friends. Due to the many and crooked roads around this lake, however, it took me ages to find the exact location of the group, which ultimately led to me get lost in the maze. Similarly to that fateful night in Enköping, I was pumping my iPod (ew) to its full capacity leaving me ignorant of any sounds of the outside world. Also, the fact that I was wearing my shorts with only one and very unpredictable pocket (filled with one very unpredictable cell phone)  wasn't helping my case one bit. So it fell out and I didn't hear it. When it finally became clear to me, it wasn't too hard to find; I just had to walk back the evil maze and get totally lost again. Fuck, it took me an hour and my soul was bleeding.


And now it's gone, NOT because of me, but because of a gay ass wigger drug addict ^^

ring

Now it's an hour left til my hair is gone... I know it isn't such a big of a deal but still. A lot of memories in that hair o.o

So finally I went out.

umzumzumz and all that.

I don't wish to linger on it for too long, the night only being a mere prequel to the great and allmighty graduation day, but I can definitely say that it was more fucked up than I'd ever expect it to be. I got in along the hordes of people entering this sort of brief group being, and walked with them down the stairs to the actual dance floor. The air was filled with eager expectation and excitement over what goods the loss of self control can bring about this time around.

Then it was time to dance. Three hours of practically raving bathing in foam (they called it a foam party), barely being able to breathe, and just letting loose. The music was so strange - and beautiful in its own way...

Afterwards though, this guy came up to me as I was standing outside my gates waiting to be let in by my mother, and he started talking to me in an uneasing manner. Then I noticed the broken bottle in his hands and how he was asking me to give him stuff. really surreal shit. My mother came down just in time and so they left, but he snatched my cell in the run...

We don't love everyone just yet, do we now?

Well, I'm just in for a short while so I'll go ahead and say what it is I came here to say:

And that marks it! Today is the first day in over two months off
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and I feel crazy :D

Gogos feelings...

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This is neither here nor there…nor is it anywhere, but everywhere else

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This just in: I am currently within what can only be described as a total shit storm; my mom room is now so packed with crap that I can actually feel the walls expanding around me. So much of the space has been taken up by shit that I can no longer be sure that the oxygen levels in here are sufficient for organic life, not to mention the severe psychological torment that arises from being trapped or imprisoned. But it’s all of course very temporary, and it is all of course very tolerable. My mission now lies in compartmentalizing further.

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Earlier today I took a stroll through ancient aunterial memories. Through grand weddings and the merger between two continents; through symbols for abandoned parental dreams stuffed in some impulsive manner into dark corners (No one knew that they would be found again, and no one could foresee that the life they had been given would survive the ages), until at last I found the valley – my valley. Seeing as my time this particular day was limited I managed only to scout the periphery of this valley, and it was when I stood there before the fallen gogo master, that I decided to call it a day. But wait a minute, oh grand one, what of this gogo master?

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The gogo, in my opinion (do you know what a gogo is? I’ll post a pic), is a very extraordinary creature indeed or at least, that’s what a littler mic would say. These bruised little aliens would probably come third on my list of childhood collections (Right after Warhammer and Pokemon). And of course, this little text trails down to the lovely river of nostalgia, for it was there that I was left to ponder my lost youth, as the gogo master showed me what he had taken from me. He was calm, as was I, but something in his eyes warned me of the weight of the situation. I took a step back. He watched me. I took another one. No changes, still watching.

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It was about then that I realized I was acting strange running away from a relatively large gogo and I stopped (still breathing heavily). Nevertheless, the feeling remained. That feeling of lost youth.

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On another note, the two major succubus mistresses of society’s tongue are beginning to scare me. They used to just piss me off, as a result of a VERY LARGE difference in ideals and definition (such as the definition of music), but then something changed; they grew too powerful, bloated beyond the fathomable, and in doing so, they unveiled parts of a terrifying future. The direction the evolution of our society’s music is taking right now (as everything else for that matter) is to separate the artist from the art even further until art is truly a matter of utopian fiction, thus sucking whatever meaning the word “music” still has left completely dry. And what is then the perfect symbol, if not these two luscious beasts? They are “edgy”, youthful, hubris inducing and controversial just to the point where it’s starting to disturb the parents. The only difference between the mainstream art today and that of before (mid to late 20^th century) is that this time, authority is on art’s side. This is all a result of society becoming more and more aware of the will of its inhabitants, and then satisfying some of these wills (in a way similar to giving a starving man a picture of a sandwich). Compromises compromises.

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These beasts then… and I hope you know of whom I speak. Superficial. Their whole existence (to all except them themselves) is exactly that. They are created by the great machine (by its workers) as a gift unto the workers of the great machine. They are the feelings and thoughts of a people too scared to feel or think. They are unfitting substitutes of truth – the heights without the lows – consumed as heroin, when it’s really just air. People don’t really have the need for love when they can LOVE. And this is because they are told that LOVE is equal to love. When in reality, it is this belief and this belief alone, which enslaves them.

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Ignorance is bliss only to those who do not consider themselves ignorant. The same goes for wisdom. Truth is though, whatever we do sometimes we are blissful, sometimes we are not – we just have to find a way to dance alongside the world we perceive to be and hope for the best.

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As well as the worst…

 

 

 

 

Who could say no to these two sexy ladies? (My God, these pictures alone already say everything that needs be said)

 

 

can you spot the gogo master? and for all of you who won't ask, that "stuff" is bananamilk...

milk.. from a banana...

Outside the sun is scorching its child, preparing it for the grand feast of summer. It's been buttered and seasoned needing only be brought into the flames to cook. Yes, the earth shall be a delicious meal indeed and the festivities must bring us higher. After what has been the most eventful month (probably) of my life, I step into another, which in its turn holds even greater possibilities. The month of June and the first days of statistical summer were welcomed in a very calm manner, leaving me to say farewell to all which May brought me - then, when all was said and done, the main forces of the Sun entered the lands with the roar of a thousand battering drums, carried by a thousand ... no wait, there were no thousands; rather, there was this mystical group of people - clan, some might call them - which stood before us, their faces as black as the antagonist night. This group of people, this clan, brought an epic end to the first half of this wicked year.

Oh today is such a great day - may the Gods smite me down if what I speak is untrue!

There has been a breach in the system, caused by something very strange and powerful, and in it flows showing no remorse over the barren lands it washes. It is indeed of the washing kind, for it is liquid and it is cleansing; it is an overflow of positive and beautiful energy. Wave after wave the Gods spilled in their revered juices, as my tiny figure devoured as much as was physically possible.

What happened then, doc?

I'll tell you what! Life happened, and it's happening still! In the ever increasing haze of acceleration that is May, I have started focusing on certain elements of the future. Such as... MOVING THE FUCK OUUT!!! YAAAA :333

So, like the good boy that I consider myself to be, I went down into the gaping hell also known as the fucking storage space to gather artifacts for iHome. It was literally filled to the brim and it took me ages to dig my way through the endless hordes of unwanted and abandoned things. So, as you could imagine, it was quite the feeling standing there alone on top of a mountain of waste holding in my hands the most beauteous of treasures:

This is what I managed to get during my scavenger hunt:

VHS Movies - 10 or so nostalgic items of the past. Episodes of Pokemon and like Rush Hour and stuff ^^

Old Photoes and nostalgic books

A NINTENDO64 INTACT WITH ALL CABLES - one working controller and 9 games, all of them ace (Zelda OoT, MarioParty1, MarioParty2, MarioKart, Mario64, Pokemon Stadium2, Mariogolf, Pokemon Snap, Supersmash bros.)

Football and badminton stuff ^^

An old dysfunctional string instrument xD

and A FUCKING Keyboard ala synth!

And now, some eating with a lovely friend, venturing down to meet others, buying bacon, chilling

I am overwhelmed... adieu



I... *masturbating* can't... *masturbating* stop... *masturbating* MASTURBATING TO HOW FUCKING EPIC LIFE CAN BE!

Once I dreamed I was freakishly tall, living in a village so freakishly small.

Everyone would gather for the 24th of May.

God! A triceratops week has been slain in front of an admiring empire. Two tests of severe self limitation, forcing me to temporarily chisel my transparent mind into a crystalline white pillar of order. I carried out their objective morality and did little to disturb their collective harmony, all the while knowing that even my fellow inmates are subject to their will and cannot not aid me in the counter attack.

Then a presentation. My last "real one" so to speak (I have like two more but that will only be me reading a poem like). And it was as mediocre as I had hoped for it to be!

A phat one and a retrieved mp3 (named "The Micolus' Psychosomatic Machine") decorates this daily house, as the weekend appears ascending from the far off horizon. Everything is glorious and I couldn't be better :D

Who am I kidding? of course I could...

Awareness is key in understanding the ways of our mind. There are many, and very good arguments as to why awareness of the Self should be avoided, (The very lie altruism is based upon) stating very believably that full awareness will inevitably cause apathy. Personally,  I feel that instead of using awareness as a reshaping tool, it is far more enjoyable to use it for observation and the occasional nudge in this or that direction. (Naturally, in order for us to even be, there must exist within our minds certain fix-points or values - something causing us to act)

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When we are faced with a situation that holds several different emotional outcomes, a process starts within us.

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Let’s say that there appears in your head two possible futures in this particular instance, one of these being the planned or hitherto expected future, while the other is for example the unlikely possibility of a much darker one.

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These two parallel worlds, or futures, will run alongside each other, their size determined only by our own severely inaccurate grading systems. The darker one, if it is a minority, will cause a dent in your latent emotional state. The dent will produce damage as long as the possibility is still active - you will live in two worlds. Often the probability of the alternate world decreases with time giving it the structure of an exponentially negative (how negative is contingent upon amplitude on this particular wave) curve.  Except repression, which is like putting the emotional price on a tab, there are as I see it, three different ways to repair an emotional damage – or rather, stop the flow of the emotional bleeding in your latent Self. Yes, your latent state is indeed a being within you, the mind, the time conceiving, the psychoactive – and it too needs to be fed (although my utopian vision contains a lot more somatic energy, the mind is still the truly powerful one and if let, will devour the body. It must be fed and kept happy for the divine satanic dance to continue). Oh, the three possible ways of reparation:

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-          In order for the bleeding to cease, you can find different ways to falsify the parallel universe (regardless of its importance; it might be the possibility that an e-mail doesn’t reach its recipient, as well as it may be the possibility of death when you find yourself in the middle of the pacific ocean surrounded only by the emptiness of God). You can either use deduction to dig your way to a possible falsification, then test it – or you can stumble upon it. Note that awareness is needed here as well in order to perceive the falsification, thus relieving you of the latent debt.

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-          Forget the possibility ever showed up. The mind will eventually throw away this information and label it as unlikely or untrue. The time it takes to forget depends on how horrible of a future it was, the subjectively calculated probability of the universe to occur and how much of the individual’s focus is directed at his preparational self, his apollonian ideal. [Forgetting an instant emotional damage follows a similar procedure]

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-          Lastly, the possibility can be verified, when shit actually happens, thus causing pain in the form of an instant emotional damage, repairable only by forgetting (or in a few cases denying).

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As you might have noticed, this applies just as well to a parallel world which is welcomed or even sought by the individual, rather than feared. All you need to do is to imagine the complete opposite of what has been written above. ( verify->falsify horrible->terrific and so on)

 

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Four stages:

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Fear – Rage – Laughter – Happiness

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Fear and happiness being direct reactions to perceived latent state, while the direct emotional state give rise to the far more strong reactions rage and laughter. Which of these doubled reactions you choose is of course varying and largely dependent on your position on the Apollonian-Dionysian scale.

A society of latent increase made by the flesh of an apathetic population in latent decay.

As all the world turns to cataclysmic shit around me, I'm sitting here reading a fucking worthless GIANT wall of text. Deluded masters strike with blunt force (supposedly subtle) and horn headed jews reach for the remainings of my torn asunder pockets. It is in this shitstorm, where my mind is nothing but a brute dog and my emotional state is hazey and confused, that a great little miracle appears to cast new light upon an awful day.

Mr. Music Player, I shall come and get you first thing tomorrow! No more shall these ears be tormented with the pressing silence of an empty world - no more!

And the words were just piling up one after another, my mind not having the slightest chance to breathe or digest what was being said. It talked until the words seem to melt beyond recognition into the sticky slimy glue which was supposedly the content of its lecture.  Some random well needed interruption was granted me in my dire hour, just as that horrible voice was burrowing its way through my last defenses.

Today, one of the characters with whom I have been placed, marked the climax of his/her own demise. It was so subtle, so indefinite and so beautiful :)

I enjoy this new era. Perhaps it's still just the initial excitement (and inevitable glorification) that has managed to maintain my interest[in life] throughout these past days, but one is always allowed to dream right? Oh yes it has been fun - not at all like past times where waiting meant fading away in a rotting fucking basement of festering darkness. The waiting now is more explicitly part of a greater whole, causing a positive effect on the latent-meter, which in its turn grants me small doses of happiness whenever I should need them. Since it is a period of readying oneself for a fairly unknown future and not actually "living" per se, there are negative episodes as well. These are, though intense, however not lasting nor frequently occurring.

I am boring when I am gleeful (or in any way +neut), so I should leave with my new found goggles on, and explore(exploit) new lands!

Deny, ignore, accept, endorse

These are your options and your tools, use them wisely