Phantasm of the Onyx pipe.

As if to forget his aberration, the phantasm before me began to ignite an intricate pipe of carved onyx, packed firmly with what could only be shreds of dried human flesh. A blinding burst of emerald light. The repugnant waft of depraved combustion. Dancing wisps and shimmering hues, playing on the sleek midnight coat of those ominous antlers. The splinter of wood fell to the floor ablaze, quivering and waning with each breath of the ghastly unceasing wind. As the flame gave way to impenetrable darkness, so too did my hope of ever escaping that wretched abyss of the eldritch unknown.

As the illuminated pixels clustered to form sentences on the glowing surface of the screen in front of me, a mingled concoction of antiqualic feeling flowed through my being as my eyes deciphered the information contained within. A growing sense of awe, excitement, anticipation, wonder, and fear mingled about me, looming before my bewildered mind at the prospect of moons yet to come. The sounds of surreal melodic symphonies emanating from incomprehensible astral instruments burst forth as instantaneously as they receded, leaving complex impressions that may have been likened to esoteric formations of some miniscule particle, a dancing ecosystem of sand grains in jubilee. Slowly, I licked my lips and concentrated my focus on composing my features, lest they betray me or my sanctum of knowledge.

I kind of miss my old bedroom. Good times were had by all, in a space not much larger than a garden shed.

I kind of miss my old bedroom. Good times were had by all, in a space not much larger than a garden shed.

Today at a cafe I met a girl in purple whose smile melted away my heart. The way her eyes looked at me warmed me inside, and now I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s silly, really. I wish I had of summoned the courage to tell her what I thought of her. I probably will never get the chance again. A lesson well learnt.

Sometimes, I wish I had people to invite over to come and keep me company. Since I moved house four months ago, only three friends have come to visit me.    
I like my solitude, I do, but day in day out… One begins to tire of the breathless embrace of loneliness.

Isolation tears at me like a cold iron hook.

My dreams are totally insane. The characters my brain conjures up whilst I sleep are most bizarre. Awaking this morning, one line repeated prominently in my mind about an anomalous fellow I encountered:

"As if to forget his aberration, he began smoking a pipe of human flesh".

(Source: dreamverse)

The mind will say the heart speaks true,

The heart doth whisper “there’s only you”,

A soul bearing a darkened hue,

Haunted and hallowed by memories too few.

(Source: dreamverse)

Vitrification

Once I loved a gargoyle,

Her beauty white as bone,

But then with time the days turned by,

As she turned right into stone.

(Source: dreamverse)

The heart is a curious device.

How it expands betwixt the ribs far in to the ether.

How it condenses and fossilizes.

A gemstone of emotion with the mass of a galaxy.

I’m sick of being beaten down by my parents every time I express any belief I hold. As if it isn’t enough just to not listen to anything I say, they feel that they must condescend and belittle me in the process, trivialising my opinions and reducing them to little more than “it’s just a phase”. Not only that, but they take out their own problems and frustrations on me, making sure that their stress and negativity is shared by everyone around them. 
I wish that one of the many places I apply for would hurry up and employ me, because currently monetary funding is the only factor holding me back from striking out on my own. I don’t need anybody else to look after me, and certainly not to restrict my personal choices. I need independence, I need consistency, I need my own space and my own terms and my own life. 2013 will be the year, I hope.

Unless a particular scenario of this universal flow-field manifests itself within your immediate reality, there is no use to worrying over its eventuality. Everything on this mortal plane happens as it will. Float with the river. Don’t allow yourself to be dragged down by the current.

The Dire Weald
An attempt at painting by my hand, inspired by the works of H.P Lovecraft. 

The Dire Weald

An attempt at painting by my hand, inspired by the works of H.P Lovecraft. 

brandycooklyn:

If you don’t care about the fact that the Ugandan government is passing the Kill The Gays bill, then you’re an idiot.

I honestly can’t believe how backwards the world is. How is it that we still do not have the freedom for people to be who they want to be without fear of prosecution? It makes no more sense to punish people of different sexualities than it does to punish people of different faiths & religions. It’d be no surprise how extreme certain Christians would react if the tables were to turn… Some people can dish it out, but can’t take it.

(Source: brandycooklyninc, via kelleblog-deactivated20130510)

Here is an impromptu mess of paint that found it’s way on to paper today, via a brush that looks as if it’s had a cruel and dismal life. I’m not quite sure what it is, or if it’s finished, or even which way it is supposed to face for that matter.

Here is an impromptu mess of paint that found it’s way on to paper today, via a brush that looks as if it’s had a cruel and dismal life. I’m not quite sure what it is, or if it’s finished, or even which way it is supposed to face for that matter.

I tried my hand at painting today. It started off okay, but then progressively got worse as my lack of ideas/technique became apparent. Somebody kindly teach me! 

“Ek ErilaR” (I am a rune wizard).