THE SUICIDAL CHAPTERS – CH.II

CHAPTER II – The Great Pig Who Used To Live In A White World

The following is a set of scattered memories from Piggy’s mind. Reminder: Piggy experiences memories as a third person and sometimes using I.

Subnet I – The White World

Piggy, the greatest pig ever, that the world has ever known, i meant, the white world.

Most readers may interpret the white world as any perception one might have of a world of some sort. However i, here, need to underline the difference. There is a huge difference between the world as you know it and the white world that Piggy knows about.

– Hey Piggy, what about the white world you so often squeal about?

The white world is a world that is ours and ours alone. It is a world that belongs to us. We have come to the conclusion that we, and only we, have and will set its rules, rules we have made for us and, as ironic as it seems, against us.

Subnet II – The After Life

When Piggy looked at the abyss of the white world, he did not squeal, but sadly enough, spoke words out of his flesh container, and said:

God will hate me. If i do this he will never look at me. The maker of death and life, the maker of shadow and light, the maker of ending and beginning.

I will sit, and alone i ll, i ll stare at my own suffering. I once thought his misery was romantic. now i am doomed to the same sin as his, may be greater. All of this will not matter now. I am in Hell and i smell my own skin burning.

Subnet III – The Guild

So many pigs from the world gathered, ones who somehow understood Piggy, wanted to understand the experience of existence of Piggy, an experience perceived by Piggy that no other pig could perceive and experience the same way. Those pigs called themselves the Guild. So the Guild wanted to understand Piggy, the Guild did not stop believing, they wanted to cling to the dream, the dream that is to understand or to be in a state of mind of wanting to understand. They have all shared the same experience. The Guild did not reflect much on their own existence, all they wanted to do, is to make the White World for Piggy. The Guild thought,

We do not care about us, we do not care about our life in this world, all we want is to be for Piggy. We know we are nothing, we know our own existence is so pathetic, is so doomed, is so unwanted. Our experience in the world was and is just a funny joke. Some kind of dark humor we did not really get. But let all that self loathing aside, the first time we saw Piggy. The first time light shed upon his flesh, the first time our brains recorded his image, that moment, was so strange and alien. We right then knew, Piggy is sacred, Piggy is all what we want to live for.

We, members of the Guild, We will make a pact, and this is our statement: We will build the white world for Piggy. The white world will be within us as a collective inner archetype. We will end our lives here in the world, to make the White World come to light, to make the White World for Piggy. This world, the world as we know it should end, it will end by taking our own life here, it will end by making the White World for Piggy.

Piggy, once, stood alone in a dark room, no window, no door, Piggy was not bothered by the fact that it got no opening, he just stood there, and looked up, as where the ceiling should have been, he just starred in the middle of darkness. Wondering and wondering. The Guild felt that sacred moment of isolation. They have felt the greatness of Piggy. Their faith has grown stronger.

The Guild is now ready to finish it all … Clarity set their minds for the ultimate goal.

Piggy was aware of the intention of the Guild, and while starring at darkness, he thought, i have never felt this alone in my life before.

The white world is waiting Piggy. The white world is awaiting. They have whispered and vanished from Piggy’s mind.

To be Continued.

Self.

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Wiktoria. A Northern Tale. Part III

I have been on the other corner of existence

From a faraway land, far away from reason

I stepped on the shore, and stayed for a while

I have a letter for you, old soul,

I first hope that the ink i will let flow won’t affect you as much as a falling leaf,

Sole tree in the middle of a belligerent wind

Dead after losing her children in front the wrath of fall

I am here, sadly enough, a resident of this planet

The first step on this gray sand made me think of you

You were the reason why i have headed for the other realm

The confession is short indeed and it is as follows,

I am chained to this material world against my will for the lord’s will is much greater

I am chained inside my cell

A cell made of flesh

I am crying out my own sorrow and lack of might,

I couldn’t take the flight. To flee from reality. For i fear what i am willing to encounter

I only know one side of you, whereas i don’t know its stand amongst the multitude of your ethereal nature

Here i write to you and i ignore the reality of my urge

The urge to reach out despite the knowledge that the hardship of real life is no fun

I am writing and while in the near future i have to embrace the long walls of the outer world

A world that keeps my presence steps away from the absence of pride

The absence of pride that is leaving life behind and to never look back

I am writing to you whereas my intention is to make you aware of the existence of such a mind

Somewhere a mind had to think about you from time to time

I am writing to you ignoring the outcome of such a reckless action

I ask the heavens forgiveness if i had shaken the borders of reality again

I am but a lamented soul

A soul that has to act out till the last flame disappears

Death is a reminder indeed

That all of this is not a game

Let me be the inmate of my own despair

Let what was left of the kindness, I hold inside against its will, touch your tender soul

Let me disappear after reaching out to you

A silent symphony was playing in the background

Snow and long trees

A Silhouette in the dark held her hands up in the air and said

Alas, such a soul is doomed

Such a presence had been left to the hands of the nothingness

Let me heal your wound and make you disappear

Be certain that you will never breath again.

Self.

Published on my FB: Sunday, 10 April 2016

Wiktoria. A Northern Tale. Part II

Traveled the world ten years backwards heading for a northern country. Here i am in the middle of this white and sublime nature. Here i can hear the sharp silence of the snow, followed by shy steps of a wandering elk.

In case you are wondering about the reasons behind such an abrupt visit to the past of a European country, i will not be sure of giving you a proper answer.

The bitterness of the present did not serve me any good. I had to look for her, i wanted to reach that elegant and attractive mind of hers. Somehow i had the intuition that i will find her in the middle of these long trees, since nature has proved itself to be darker there.

To my own astonishment i had a gut feeling that i ll find the same wise inner woman that i have met before, the same eloquent, wondering, and darkly spiritual being. Somehow she managed to live off time. However and sadly enough, in the present time, i have lost grasp of reality since i was not a part of it.

How can an unreal person like me partake in her existence.

I and I always wait for that manifestation of darkness, and i know i ll find her in the middle of these cold and deserted lands. While looking for her, disappearing from tree to tree, vanishing from lake to lake, flying over all these majestic valleys and mountains, i am still hearing her own words, that i once, have been fortunate enough to read.

“This sorrow, this darkness, this mental pain is so attractive. So beautiful, so soothing…”

To plunge into impossibilities of encounters, to plunge into the awkwardness of such fate, to feel cold till my bones just to see her, to lose my own self and to become only a watcher, to share a sight of a familiar, i will dream and not stop dreaming.

Grant me a chance to relive these enchanting moments.

Let me create my own dream.

Self.

Published on my FB: Sunday, 27 March 2016

THE SUICIDAL CHAPTERS – CH.I

CHAPTER I – A Suffocating pork under water

While lying down on my tomb, I thought I have heard something,

“The boy who never lived comes to die”,

“I am going to die with or without her”. The child shouted to the man who got no hair on his head, a snake figure was seen over his showing skull. The man wearing a black cloak couldn’t be seen by others, but still got a very strong hold on the child.

Childhood was a period in my life that somehow defines who I am in the core of my self. I was so scared of demons, and always frightened to my bones when the night comes. Less than twenty years after, I will witness my first apparition inside a house that is told to be haunted on a very far away land, lands of my ancestors. Ten years later, paranormal experiences have proven to be very rare but not with a lesser influence. The last one was in the end of 2015. I am seeing demonic or altered human faces the moment I put myself on the pillow, followed by loud auditory hallucinations, laughs and hearing a very weird language, but with a strong spelling filled with a very frightening emotion. These recent paranormal experiences did not start randomly. They were for a couple of weeks, the very last weeks of 2015. Panic attacks were sitting just under my skin, I fought them with all what I have got left of inner strength. However each time I met her, the night after I would feel a very powerful dark energy. I somehow expected that to happen, not before, but the right moment I felt that dark energy I got a clue on its possibility. The first night was unique, because the dream was not a silent one, I have heard a very powerful drum beat, tribal drum beats we usually hear before a ritualistic sacrifice. While I was given the choice to stay or continue the dream, I was representing the projection of my own self. The more I stayed in there, the more the symphony of the beats changed to become more and more dark and scary. Here he comes, puts her on the ground, hold his knife and points it violently around her submissive body, she can’t move, now he hold the knife in the air, looks at me, and yells like someone who got himself into a frenzy, in that right moment, I felt a terrible fear, a near death fear, he is going to kill her and himself after, I have received a very life threatening and traumatic signal, I still had the choice to keep watching but I forced myself to wake up.

The child – while the man with the snake figure was surprised – used his bare hands to strangle the pork under water, squeals of that filthy beast were terrifying, but not to the child, he still got his grip on the pork, until no sound was heard. The man with the dark cloak did not like the scenery; the child is now staring at him with a deadly stare.

“You are in the presence of the dark lord, never raise those eyes on me, or I will disgrace your soul” I don’t see him no more; He just disappeared out of the blue.

As I looked for him in the forest, I have found a lake, I can see a strange pale kid, all covered in blood, he is in the middle of the water, and in his right hand, a pork’s head. I asked him, how did you manage to slice the throat of that giant pork, how did you manage to win over him with only your bare hands, he starred at me with the same anger he got a while ago in the presence of the snake, and repeated,

“I am willing to die with or without her”.

To be continued.

Self.

Published on my FB: Sunday, 28 February 2016

Thiloom. My Beastly Servant

Glad that I have gored the goat to death. The growling that I have heard afterwards was not from pain but of rage. It was not coming from its opened throat. The corpse was lying down breathless. Fear started overcoming me for it was late night, exactly, the witching hour. Right then, I knew I had to begin the invocation.

Let the gates of hell open

Hails to the underworld

Accept my offering and give me what I have always asked for

A familiar from the dark lands,

A beast kept under an infernal vow

A vow of eternal servitude and unconditional obedience

Suddenly, a ghostly figure strangely appeared behind the sign on sand. It spoke and said:

“Koligtee, Gholly, Thiloom”

My servant will be a ghoul, named Thiloom, that I ll receive the night after.

Somehow in front of my tomb, I have found a cradle sheltering an unidentified dark little creature, a faceless infant ghoul. I feel an extreme joy and I thank the coven of witches from the bottom of my rotten heart for they have finally accepted my solemn request.

My new purpose now is to take care of my baby ghoul, feed it with dead flesh I ll collect from the graveyard till it becomes stronger and stronger, and tame it to my best of my abilities so it won’t make any mistake while obeying my orders, for I am the master of this infernal beast. I ll not make the dark coven regret such a generous gesture of theirs.

From now on I ll serve evil and make rituals from the blood of my future preys. My commands will depend on my mood. It will depend on the stars and on the moon phases.

Thiloom, run, harm and feed.

Thiloom , track, hunt and bring alive.

Each night, I wake up after sunset then I check on Thiloom. Thiloom is becoming stronger. I can sense that its thirst for blood has grown and hunger for human flesh has developed. I cannot hide the voices I hear inside my head, I cannot ignore them. They say,

Oh you servant of the darkness, Oh you pathetic servant, your time has clearly come, haven’t you noticed the new glare in Thiloom’s eyes, haven’t you started sensing its hatred towards you, you have not much time left, bow down near the northern well and gave us your soul with dignity or we ll command Thiloom to do it.

I cannot ignore these alien thoughts, but in the same time, I am the father of this beast. I am the master. I ll deceive the coven and run away with Thiloom. May be they have altered its loyalty to me, I have to run away to another land, may be overseas. Oh I hear something crawling behind, this is impossible; I have checked the chains of Thiloom earlier, how come? Maybe I am thinking too much.

Oh no, this cannot be, oh, Aaaaaarghhh.

Frightening screams. Crying and hopeless laughter. This is Insane. I do not recognize my self anymore. I am in full submission while falling on my knees in front of this huge beast. My dear Thiloom has become a stranger with the, one and only, instinct to kill.

Tonight was the same night Thiloom was brought to life by the coven, and now all I can see, is a bloody and deathly scenery. Thiloom feeding on the guts of its master, I the narrator can smell that disgusting feast, yet I can see how delighted Thiloom has become, the first smile on a faceless head. The killing of his master was one of the most brutal savage acts I have ever witnessed. Skull smashed, throat dissected, eyes swallowed, penis thrown to fire, flesh eaten, and bones destroyed. All what is left is a bunch of guts lying on the ground. Weirdly enough, Thiloom keeps vomiting them whenever they make way inside its infernal stomach.

I watch my own murder in disgust and pain, I plunge into despair and I wait for my final judgment. I feel the bitter regret of what is awaiting for me. A similar fate within the district of Hell.

Side Note:

The second meaningful long conversation was initiated by her after a long while of disappearance. She asked anonymously, how is your writing doing. In that same time I had a feeling it was her but i had a slight doubt. I replied with the first part of this humble story. A story of pain was her departure to an unknown fate to me, and all I could do is an attempt to live off her memory. I wrote this story from notes I had written by hand a long time ago, and each time, I think, the first deliverance was in time of a reunion, so may be completing this story and publishing it may grant me a chance of some sort. Hopefully, some kind of a second reunion.

Art is sacred and shall be. Art defies reason but keeps you dreaming. And all I do is I keep dreaming.

Self.

The Lobster (2015)

Finally a good, recently released (2015), movie for me: The Lobster, starring Collin Farrell, Rachel Weisz and Léa Seydoux. What follows is a modest attempt to write a short review on this unique experience. I will use short sentences or words, because it suits me well to better describe what caught my whole being while watching. The movie is presented in two implicit chapters, one inside the Hotel, where single people are treated (have to live a couple of weeks before being turned into an animal of their choice, and if lucky enough, find your future partner and then get back to the city). And the second half, in the middle of the woods (where the outlaw loners live) and in the city, (where the very respected couples live). Some of the things i will state below are, personally speaking, a very sarcastic approach of the writer (director) to criticize intimacy and single-hood in modern society nowadays.

– Being an outcast for the only reason of being single.

– Authority mixed with good manners well represented inside the Hotel. I must say that there was a hidden feeling of guilt that led single people to be so submissive to the laws.

– The Hunt. An activity organized by the managers of the Hotel, who catches a loner has an extension of stay. Action was very well directed using slow motion, with a very unique performance of actors i must admit. Since it was inside the green woods, it reminded me of Hunter X Hunter and made me feel emotional.

– Sexual compulsions stated within a dark and hopeless environment. What a contrast. Especially if we take into consideration the tone of the voice used and the rigid social, or authoritative context of the scenes. It is to be noted that masturbation is forbidden inside the hotel and punishment awaits ones with that kind of urge.

– Not a movie for vegan or vegetarian activists, the blood on the animal preys was so graphic, and how characters described their carnivore urges was so intense.

– Any romantic or flirtatious activity in the forest is forbidden. Kissing is a breach of the loner’s social contract, lips are to be cut deep as a punishment.

– If a couple during the last stay in the Hotel is having argument, a kid is offered for adoption, stating that it helps keeping them together.

– Electronic music serves as a ritual of loners inside the forest.

– A monologue during the scenes of the first chapter to explain the context, it felt like reading a book. A very good description and use of vocabulary. Voice by the actress Rachel i presume.

Self.

ISIS NOT IN MY NAME

JUST TO MAKE IT CLEAR ISIS IS NOT A RELIGIOUS GROUP. ISIS IS A TERRORIST GROUP;

Isis is a group that gathered all around the world simple minds. A simple mind is a mind that prefers a simple short sentence that will relieve his or her intimate frustration, sentences like, kill them all, or torture them all, or they are the responsible not me, they are the oppressor not me, i am a forgotten suffering victim, or i am an empty shell looking for bloodshed to satisfy my own frustration, and then they will add, the so much used sentence, God said so, well my friend, God also and often says, only the people who think deeply will understand the universal message that is love in itself.

I have heard of a solution, that making understand real religion or real atheism to these people will make a change, but i don’t think so, it may help some of course, but the people that carry guns and kill civilians with a cold stare, children, elderly, women, or rape, or burn under the premises of a holy goal are people who are so frustrated and the only way to deal with their negativity or the emptiness of their existence was to shed blood or to abuse others, i am sure this same kind of people could be manipulated by an other fake religion or fake atheism, they prefer hate because it is easy than understanding and love because it needs a lifetime to be learned. I hope these guys will see the truth and spread love instead…

It is to be noticed that by my writing i have mentioned people who execute other people, i did not talk about their military hierarchy, in most cases those who manipulate are so smart and have so complex minds, i said are because it is a group or a gathering of groups, those people don’t believe in anything even if they pretend the contrary, those people are people who are thirsty for power, for dominating the world, for economic and ideological control… You will find them within most of governments or industries. They are war mongers for their own personal goals, and they do not have any religious belief.

T.