Art appreciation

It is 1991 and I am sitting in the classroom fidgeting. Collage was fun but this having to take art appreciation was for the birds. I was there to learn how to work in the medical field. Art was the last thing on my mind, except that walking piece of art that was sitting just a few seats away.  The professor walked in and dimmed the lights before turning on the projector. The wall showed a all too familiar painting, The Last Supper. He gave us the history and details on how it had survived the second world war and facts that would probably interesting to an art major I guess it was interesting but really I already had seen it and fine it had some cool history. Nineteen-year-old me was not a fan of the classics.

lastsupper

A few more slides from his trip to see the painting in person and how marvelous it was. Yes, I was head tipped back zoned a million miles away. Chad my study partner slapped me to make sure I was still paying attention. If I had been, he would have never gotten a hit in. I cut him a dirty look and focused on the painting. The timing could not have been better. No Becky in the front row did not start her cheer/stripper routine or anything like that. It was the next frame he showed. I sat there stunned and in total fascination.

last supper

It was The Last Supper by Salvador Dali. I had seen his work before though to be honest I had little care for art before then, it was just a rad painting. I think the prof saw my interest and he left the image up as he spoke about Dali and some of the more odd and interesting facts about what has become my favorite painter.

In many ways his surreal art reflects how I view much of the world. He was often call exotic or eccentric, but I feel he saw the world much how I feel it is. Twisted and broken to those who would but look. Melting as everyone seems to carry on like everything is fine. Breaking out of the bonds of everyday thinking and being willing to accept it is not a perfect world but a beautiful one that is filled with strange and glorious things for one’s brave enough to seek them. So be brave and step out and take in this crazy wonderful world.

Come and enjoy the rest of the fun for this weeks Wicked Wednesday

Wicked Wednesday

 

7-30 The world we know

A thimbleful of madness mixed with the dregs of life, such a bitter wine

No such elegance to behold in this disheveled existence in time

Know no simple task has been given for the forgotten and downtrodden

Civility long ago forged now a memory in the mist dead and rotten

Time as these see goodness poisoned like an apple injected with poison

Greed and lust flow free and flesh is the only commodity within reason

Reason, oh it is unreasonable to look for it here, in the valley of filth

Climb and desecrate the dreams once held as pure, give in to wealth

Little else matters in this putrid festering realm, sell your body and mind

Tendrils sliding along the edges waiting to pluck dreams left behind

No taboo so vile it is not be dreamt, the dream a growing haunting need

Slithers in the bed of the dreamer it latches in place of dreams now dead

Fallow field of a broken mind, plowed by the vile broken creatures left behind

Seeds of lust, greed and desire tilled deep sprout into a thick choking vine

The tempting fruit that hangs just past the tips of starving lips, so inviting

Look but do not touch, touch but do not taste, taste but do not enjoy imbibing

If it were some sickly pallor it would not have such appeal to lure

Monsters the masses cry out but not one amongst them is pure

Rotten to the core as their cry for punishment of the one who tasted desire

A scapegoat now shackled and brought to the center for a symbolic pyre

The masses lusty cries for blood to be spilt ascending to a fevered pitch

Each chanter harboring personal desire that slithers yet is held in check

Rage for the one who dared to imbibe and enjoy, even become intoxicated

Rules they scream as the shackles hold them back, their venom placated

Morality mingles with mortality stones fly in a self-loathing sea of humanity

Found guilty by the corrupt the scapegoat now bludgeoned at their need

At the reading of the charged, the exposing of the crime to live outside rules

A seed falls and takes hold in the soft fertile soil of another in its youth

Walking home the seed is watered as spying eyes see a pleasing thing

Will this vine take hold and grow or be a hidden withered seedling?

7-29

Yeah well it is time for some of my twisted side. As always it can trigger the sensitive reader. If you are under 18 get lost, this isn’t for you.

Shattered and bleeding on the floor, curled up desperate

The twisted reality crashing all making plans turn to shit

Nothing to do but take it, wait it out, just react to the next blow

Fucking hate how it comes and comes without hopes glow

Hemorrhaging dreams beyond recovery do a death twitch

An increasing need growing like an incessant itch

Just to feel alive, to know it will come to a head

How to go on with what feel like a land of the lost and dead

Turbulent thoughts cloud clear rational reality

Clawing in a land of nightmares, sail on the bloody sea

Blistered hands gripping the rope, climb again, climb

Wary bones exhausted muscles running out of time

Impossible possibilities dangle just a fingertip away

Falling again, like a wounded animal left on display

Shattered, angry, screaming inside and snapping everything

Fuck it, what is there left to do when it is all in flame

Positive negativity eating like acid on the flesh

Nothing left but a husk flopping like a dying fish

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Scraping and clawing it has awakened from slumber

Now consumed with an endless gnawing hunger

Petulant flesh so weak when such power is roused

The surge of power washing aside the weak shroud

Finger to the sky, I am the despised and hated

Filled with needs that can be fed but can never sated

Laughing as they fear what goes bump in the night

It is the friendly smile that will bring a true fright

Intoxicated on the scent of fear the masses secrete

One on one is when it becomes a real treat…

Beast and Sheep

Before you plunge into reading this you should be warned it is raw, emotional and could trigger some. There you have been duly warned…

God are you fucking kidding me, it is total bullshit feeling like this. Fucking piece of shit society tells me what rages in my mind and blood is wrong. Genetics, evolution, whatever the fuck it is; the real question is why is it? Sure I can fit in, play chameleon or try to cut out the most powerful part of me. Blending only works so well for so long. Always that itch, the scratching in the back of my head. Fucking hell it’s like trying to run from death, being a part of the wolf pack being haunted by what is my nature. You either get it or you don’t.

Lick the blade and feel that sharp edge craving a taste of blood. Clip it to the hip and walk out into the world. Prey everywhere, flesh flashing like a never-ending parade all but begging to be hunted. The beast kicking the cage as tits and ass flash. That scent of the bitches in heat like a drug fires up the carnal carnival need. Screaming inside while calm and cool outside, the mind racing, resolve bracing against the beast that slams against the door over and over again. Now I scream inside, not for a lack of want but for a need to be hidden in the mass of sheep. A blood thirst wolf can only be kept starved for so long before it rips the throat from its prey. Feeding as the flock looks on in horror.

Monster they scream, beast that should be locked away or destroyed. FUCK YOU! Deny what you are inside, a land of mentally castrated predators. Ignore that itch, turn away as you feel the twitch. COWARD! PUSSY! FUCKING BALLLESS SHEEP! I tried, the gods know I’ve tried. Repression, ignoring, hiding it deep inside behind a mask of the socially acceptable smile. Hell cannot be walled up, fate will prevail and roll over the land in a wave. A metropolis of blood washed streets filled with screams. Flesh is a fleeting thing, mere food for the worms that wait with hungry maws craving more and more. Death is such a hollow thing, it is the fear, agony and pain that give true flavor to life. Being a master of them, to bring each in full furry is a god power. Oh the desire to walk as a god amongst the mass of fearful sheep. To devour what is there to take. It is not simple to maintain the level, to hold the power, It is pure force of will and the ability to command it. No more anxiety holding back for the so called social norms.

For thousands of years life has been a primal struggle. Fang, flesh and blood splattering the world in a crimson paint that is far more pure than this anemic pathetic existence. An existence that is now held in some desperate need to seem normal, slave to the system we created. Slave to a piece of paper that is giving an arbitrary value. For that people are made into a cogs to work the vast machine of socially acceptable work. Once broken  they are tossed aside and forgotten. Life is nothing more than a farce now. Mental health is from the lack of struggle and pain. WAKE UP! Madness you say? I dare you to sit in a wall of isolated “normalcy” existing to only repeat the same task the next day. Safe with no struggle, just day after day in that routine. That is madness.

Sickness has crept in and infected this society. Safety to the point we have shattered our purpose. Freedom and adventure traded for security. Anarchy whispered like a bad word, no sheep, it is the purest form of reality. Safety and control are an illusion you pathetic Eloi. The dark scares you because you have lost your purpose. The darkness is home and a place of serenity for me. Only when the animal side is loose do I truly feel alive. No regret, no apologies for doing what is natural.

The only way to stop this is to stop the beating of this feral heart. Dare you to try, come and see if you can. Feel the rush, touch the edge of godhood, if you have the fortitude. Once a taste had touch the lips it becomes a craving, the beast is awakened.

Crazy? Hardly, just an awakening to the reality of the primal nature. The flesh is there for the thrill of the hunt. The hunt fuel for the beast that needs to feed.

Into Me See

Craven desire, wanton beast, animals that claim to be on a higher level. In the end it is nothing but flesh and blood that sinks into the void of macabre.

This isn’t sexy or anything like that, just a view into my mind and how I think some days.

In the realm between sanity and calamity there is a place where the people gather in mass. Huddled together as they watch on in disbelief at the world around them. Hope, fear, terror and joy all blended into a mass of swirling words and colors. Horrors beyond most individuals ability to comprehend is whispered, a land of darkness so sinister. Kittens soft and fluffy playing with bounding puppies now takes away the torrent of dismay. Fallow minds drift in and out of original thought as they are fed swill just for a moment of thrill. This place is the internet, inter-web, or whatever it is called in their confines of home.

A war broken into a flash of images and sounds, rockets fly and bodies lay on the ground. A royal marriage paraded around, the glamor and fashion for all to sigh and praise. On the surface it is so serine yet darker levels lurks underneath. Horrors that dared not be spoken aloud in public company, deviance that makes the most publicly perverse look pure. The glass shards of broken humanity choke down the bits that float into the light. Openly appalled but in secret drawn like a moth to a flame those horrors would fade if they weren’t in high demand.

Foul filth or hidden treasure, it is for each to decide. What is appealing to one makes another sick inside. Ghastly images of wars from ages past shock the onlooker as they hide the secret desire to know what happened to that missing hooker. Craven desire, wanton beast, animals that claim to be on a higher level. In the end it is nothing but flesh and blood that sinks into the void of macabre. Screams make lusts run hot as openly it is condemned. Would there be such a high number of hits if the masses were not drawn to it? Images of death and a live feed as a throat is slit.

The heart of man is a dark hole swallowing all that it can ingest. I dare not try to pretend to be above such craven desires myself. I fall prey to darker lusts and desires. Images that make others blush just serve to inspire my twisted mind. Questions of my sanity abound from those who look on. Dare if you will to take a look inside, can you feel the struggle and desire? At some point there is an edge, a ledge to stand over and look. Take the leap and hope to not dash on the rocks below or stand forever in the evening glow. They say if you stare into the void long enough you can feel it staring back at you, this I know all too well to be true.

The real question comes as I am asked what I want. The answer is often a confusing jumble of ideas and none linked to a single thing. Material things are but tokens of this life I find fleeting, only the feeling of the giver is what is felt when I don or admire a gift. Have I become listless or has my taste come to a point it is beyond even my understanding? Only time will tell what comes of this and where it leads. The rabbit hole is deep and I have fallen far, but the bottom is still beyond my grasp as I still tumble…