riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
my dreams are all lies. trust them not. to be anything more. To be anything. if only to simply be. Breathe. Greather thou and oless. Sometims in the darkness ever shrouded a blinding lite be but shortly scene. But yet and then go on to tell, the rest and rested long; espresso for the wicked, weary souls.
marked twice by the Raven, trickster, rememberer, thinker, gods below above beyond and dead. all dying and for it is the natural progression of things to die because we know it was and is and ever shall be so. No one escaps ask Enoch (he walked with God and then was not). Morrison was a drunken buffoon. No wonder he never made it out alive. The lizard king bows down before the Grinning Fool; the Grinning Sadist; the Grinning Absurdist. And less and less and always less.
Man killed God because He could not take the guilt of having forgotten Him. Guilt: so much from so little.
there are many things I could say, but they are lies like everything else. and I like my lies better. fictions to make our realities more palatable. frictions to tell our stories great and small and boring all. Is it so fuckingwrong to want something better more the Dream that never was? Promises promised never devilerd and fuck it. and fuck it. and fuck it all.
Too late to be known as John the First; he’s sure to be known as John the Worst. A pox on manthemostergreatest-of-themall. if not famous; infamous; or at least the least of now and forever. Remember me when you come into your kingdom.
Eagle: So then I told Zeus: “I don’t care if he did steal your fire, I am sick of the taste of liver.”
Persephone: And then what did he do?
Eagle: What? You think I chose to come down here?
Odin All-Father dead today; eaten by wolves. A pitying state of affairs the godkillers all. For nothing left put manmade sadnessdeath and fater all. Glorious dead we makes ourselves greatest among all domesticated beasts oh cry out for our forgotten lord. if nothing else make me more than them. Make me more than the nothing they become. Mangreatestfool of them all. To truly be a god. The silence of creation is deafening in the allforgotten vanity of manmosthigh. know we so much that we forget but all. And so the knowers become the rememberers become the cast out lost ones who will not breakdown for anyprice. Sell me knowthing. I need not your empty pleasantries spawn of Santa.
isaac aronson was a man of no consequence. a glorious man. the best of men. no greater soul has the world known. sentenced to an early death for knows not why. forbiddencastaside the son of no man save Man: the darkest soul of them all. Alas poor Isaac, I knew him well. his fate is mustshared by all. To what end we know not of. The only story we can’t write with confidence. The void calls us all drunkenstumbing home. to remember in the foggy hungover mourning. Death is just what’s next. And then? And then? No and then. And then? No and then! And then?
Useless; never used. If only I wasn’t so fucking good at everything. Somuch so much becomes somuch less. If there was ever a way out we never knew it. we never knew until the credits rolled on our sad sack sorry story. at least the post credit clip made us laf.
A way a lone a last a loved a long the
Ming Lo moves mountains.