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October 10 Moonspell IIAlguna vez vagué por las calles con el paso lento y la mirada perdida. En mi mente se revolvían demonios, de mi pasado y mi presente. Demonios que me robaban con cada paso mi futuro. No era nadie, no valía nada.
De la nada apareció ella: una dama pálida, con el rostro más bello, la mirada más profunda... no dijo nada, ni una palabra; no hacía falta que hablara. Su silencio me lo decía todo. Su silencio me atravesó de lado a lado, se adentró en lugares donde nadie llegaría nunca... nunca. Se mantuvo distante, contemplándome... y me dio el placer más grande del mundo: me dejó también contemplarla. Aún sigo perdida, confundida... vacía. Pero ya no me importa, pues la tengo a ella. Cada treinta días se asoma, me contempla desde la distancia... su mirada me atraviesa... y me deja contemplarla. -------------------------------------------0------------------------------------------- One time far away, I wandered in the streets, slow steps, lost my eyes. In my mind demons revolted, from my past and my current days. Demons which stole from me with each step my future. I was nobody, I was worth nothing. From no special place, she appeared: a pale lady, with the most beautiful phace, the deepest glare... she didn't speak a word; no words were needed. Her silence told me everything. Her silence went through me, side by side, deep into places nobody would ever reach... never. She kept her distance, staring at me... and gave me the biggest pleasure in the world: she let me stare back at her. I'm still lost, confused... hollow. But that is unimportant now, since I have her. Every thirty days she shows herself, contemplating me from far beyond... her glance gets me through... and she lets me stare at her. By Machika Translated by Vlad Israfel Moonspell IImagine a thin courtain freely on the sky, so delicate that you can believe it is an illusion. So thin that it lets your imagination fly with the full image of a silver disk, perfect silver carved in the black mantle. Like witnessing the wings of an angel, like believing again.
I feel observed in taciturn nightwatch, calmly staring back at me with it's only eye. It never gazes in another direction or closes it's unexistant eyelids. Like a cathedral, orchestrated with silence, remaining on one place, moving the world around her... I'm under it's spell, in love. I want to reach her with my hand, but soon I learn that there are times in which love can not be touched. It's gone now, it can't be forever mine. She departed to the west this night, falling into the horizon. Others will see it. By Vlad Israfel Seether - Driven Under Do you think I’m faking when I’m lying next to you? Do you think that I am blind nothing left for me to lose? Must be something on your mind something lost and left behind Do you know I’m faking now? Do you know I’m faking when I’m lying next to you? Do you know that I am blind to everything you ever do? Must be something on your mind something lost for me to find Do you know I’m faking? Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before on him Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before, oh man I guess you know I’m faking when I tell you I love you I guess you know that I am blind to everything you say and do Must be something on my mind there’s nothing left for me to hide Do you know I’m faking? Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before on him Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before, oh man We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face I need you. I breathe you. I can’t go through this all again. We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face I need you. I breathe you. I can’t go through this… Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before on him Then she told me she had a gun it sounded like she’d used it once before, oh man Then she told me she had a gun she says she wants to use it on me now… August 11 Jam and DanceThere are times in which I don't understand this world, and I just try to convince myself that nothing is anywhere. That if I close my eyes, it is all ok. Filth. I wake up one morning in my filthy appartment, a bottle with me on my bed. But I never had a drink. Why do I feel so sick? Is it the morning comming in through my ripped off window, or just the clean stench emanated by my carpets, always the same, many storees below?
I wake my eyes without seeing, the ceiling is a million miles away, and I don't even feel the strengh to stretch my hand... what is the point, when my senses lie to me? Sideways. I turn my head and there is the door across the bottle, deflected and drunk. Nobody is on the other side, nobody knocks on it, then why do I hear as if they called me? Is it me calling myself? Is it reality that I'm trying to escape from? I know what is out there in the street.. millions of cars, each more similar to the other, faceless surfaces and walking corpses that won't have eyes unless i give them a chance... the day is so warm, heavy as an eternity, the noise so intense, and it is everywhere, it bounces on the walls, on me, on the air... I hear crying across the wall... it is the person laying down next to me on the bed, who has just seen life through my eyes, locked in her own bricks... she has her story. Haven't felt like this in years... where am I? Sit down and take my coffee? Open my mouth to accept another minute and wake up concient and drunk another day? Does it all go away if I close my eyes? Do the monsters under my bed let me sleep if I turn on a light? Will they ever? I don't want to face it, I was already there... where else can I go? Vlad Israfel June 29 Neurotically YoursReasons I love Foamy for: http://www.friendsoffoamy.com/index.php?id=302 for all the episodes
Vlad Israfel May 30 Survey+DataWhich one of your friends is?:
Sexually active: Vale, Amy A drug user: None, they are too smart for that. A smoker: Amy, Vale (a little bit), Quilo, Bymbo, Baldo, Xtian (a little), Chuvy (a little), Castalia Practically an alcoholic: none has gone so low, even when some of them drink once in a while. Wild: Vale, Nati, Amy, Katherine, Batman Fashion obsessed: NONE!!! Loveable: Vale, Amy, Naty, Katherine Caring/compassionate: Vale, Amy, Paz Helpful: Vale, Amy, Paz Sponetaneous: Naty, Vale, Amy, Sandy, Katherine, BYMBO, Batman Shy: Paz, Quilo, Katherine (believe it or not) Loud: Bymbo, Vale,, Batman, Naty!!! Unsociable: ... none... wait... Cell... Owen... Fun: All of them Miserable: All of them XD Bad tempered: Hmmm... not really bad tempered Annoying: #8 (Xtian) XD Fun: Naty, Vale, Amy, Sandy, Katherine, Bymbo, Batman, Paz, Baldo, Casti, Sandi, Linux, QUILO, Cell, Mr. Peanuts, Chuvy Smiley all the time: none Pretty: Vale, Amy, Paz, Kath Kissable: ... I won't answer to that Hilarious: Vale, Amy, Nati, Batman, Quilo, Kath, Bymbo Athletic: HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!... ok, Amy does Yoga... and now Casti makes spinning.... ok, may be Chuvy Lazy: Bymbo Troublesome: Baldo, Bymbo Dishonest: if i knew they were, they wouldn't be my friends... why do you think I appart people from me? Honest: I home all of them Sensitive: Vale, Amy, Paz, Bymbo, Kath A bad friend: ... i don't need names Selfless: same as before Depressed: Bymbo, to a lesser extent, Paz (not depressed, just overwhelmed) Blonde: ... well, Amy dyed recently Brunette: most of them (normal color in here) Black haired: Vale, Naty, Paz Red haired: *cries* Mónica Scared: of what? Not confident: Crahan Arrogant: none, I hate that kind of people Ignorant: Aren't we all? Stupid: Baldo, Linux XD A dumb blonde: none! Overly groomed: wtf? And now that you've read this crap... have you noticed that I have nicks for everybody?... seriously, I want to make this list of my friends, and their respective nicks, to see if (besides Sandy), there is somebody missing a nick:
Vale: Kamui, Christine
Diego: Linux, niño del culo Amy: Spike!.. sex goddess Spikah, Joey's wife, Sex Gothess Spike XD Paz:.... ¿Paz?  Juan Pablo: Mr. Peanuts, Cocorí, niño del culo David: Cell José Pablo: Bymbo, Crahan, Bymbotamine, #6, Clownfucker, Zorak Vladimir: Baldo, #4, Black Kiss, the hero of the people Katherine: Machika, Sadistic Castalia. Charlie XD Natalia: Florencia José Pablo: Chuvy, niño del culo Cristian: Briko, Corey, #8 Ricardo: Quilo, Mr. I don't get whipped but would love to Jonathan: Owen Juliana: Juls Luis Leo: Batman, Licha, niño del culo Rony: Calaca, Calaquita, Calaquita erótica, Calaquita Feroz, Calaquita sexy Luis Alejandro (?): Gabber, hijo del culo Charles: Charlie, Bill, Lumpy Alejandro: Jano, Mr. T Óscar: Niño del culo May 26 (Psycho)logicalIf I was religious, you would be my seven deadly sins;
If I was a moth, you would rip off my grey wings; If I was alive, you would love me katatonic; If I was katatonic, you would love me dead; If I was dead, you would love me buried; If I was buried, you would love me in tears. If I had a heart, you would abuse it; If I had a soul, you would exorcize it; If a spell could save me, you would never cast it; If I could ever escape, you would leash me here; If I wanted to forget, you would feed my memories; If I was a rose, you would take away my petals; If I was an orchid, you would step on me; If I was the moon, you would steal night from me; If I felt perfect, you would try to change me; If I was proud, you would flaw me; If I was hurt, you would stab me once; If I was wounded, you would stab me twice; If I was dead, you would send me to Hell; If I had a life, you would steal it; If I was nothing, you would shoot me; If I had nothing, you would give me a handful of coal; If I had everything, you would take it away; If I was to be raped, you would enjoy it; If I was to pray, you would be a deaf God; If I ever existed, you would deny it. Written by Vlad Israfel May 19 Neurotically Yours: Episode # 082 : Drugs In Your HeadSee… Now this is going to be a touchy subject for all you potheads. All you fucking bastards are lobbying to legalize medicinal marijuana. I’ll tell you right now, these people do not give two shits about the medicinal benefits of medical marijuana. They just want to get high and not get bothered by the cops. That’s all it is. Don’t… let ‘em… fool you. All right?
And I’m sick and tired of “well blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah, marijuana” and “do you know… they can make… jeans… out of hemp. Very durable clothing… can be made out of hemp.” Yeah, and it feels like fucking burlap you dumbass. Who the hell wants to walk around in something that feels like a potato sack? Maybe you do, I don’t.
And when they usually interview the head guy at these organizations it’s usually some fucking hacky-sack playing dumbass with fucking beady little red eyes lying through their fucking teeth and giggling like an idiot.
Don’t give me the “it’s a legitimate form of medicine.” Yeah, great, just what our healthcare system needs. A bunch of broke, potheads running into every fucking hospital they see trying to get free medicinal marijuana, paid for by taxpayers so they can get high Because they came up with some fucking stupid dumbass fake disease. “My eye hurts. Give me some pot, doc.” Yeah OK. You know what you do? You light up a joint and put it out in their eye. That’s my prescribed use for medicinal marijuana.
I’m sick and tired of people saying, “Well it relieves stress.” You people are the worst. One, you're weak willed. Two, you’re fucking pathetic. “Oh I had a stressful day so I gotta have some pot.” Give me a fucking break. OK, you people just can’t deal with reality and that’s your fucking problem. I don’t give two shits about, “Oh I had a stressful day”, Big fucking deal. The rest of the world had a stressful day, all right. It’s called life. Deal with it. And then they try to throw that shit right back at ya. “Well I’m sure you have some addictions, might be caffeine.” Ah yeah… all of a sudden I had a cup of coffee and I’m a fucking addict. Oh, Oh yeah cream cheese too. Look out. “Getting’ high on the cream cheese.” You fucking daft bastards.
And since we’re on the topic of drugs, let’s move on up… To the crack heads. And all these other motherfuckers who have to deal with some kind of foreign substance just to get through the day. You know, this is the problem with society. Everybody’s gotta have to have a fucking quick fix. Why don’t you people just say, “you know what, this is life, life is not enjoyable. Fine I had a stressful day. You know what, I’m going to go home and sleep.” No. I gotta whip out the crack and have six lines. Nice. You people are pathetic and I hope you get shot in the head in a drug bust gone wrong. You want to talk about a stressful day, try having a bullet removed from your head. That is stressful.
And don’t think I’m picking on the “illegal drug users.” What about all you fucking parents out there that are on, you know, fifteen thousand medications, For depression… for Post- whatever. Oh, “I’m not happy, maybe I’m manic depressive” Lighten up. Give me a fucking break, no one deals with their own emotions anymore. And that’s the best. These parents who lecture their children about doing pot, yet they’re swallowing a bunch of anti-depressants and chasing it with alcohol. Nice. Stop being hypocritical, you dumb bastards. You want to lecture your kids you have to be in the right position to do it. You don’t say “One moment Molly, I’ve got to go get my anti-depressants and I’ll be right back to talk to you about your drug problems” Yeah… Doesn’t anybody see the irony in that? You fucking idiots.
And it’s like the majority of America is on some kind of prescribed whatever. Like I went to the doctor and he said, “You know what you should take? You should take this and this and this. And that will take care of your runny nose of yours.” Well why don’t I just wait for my natural immune system to take over the virus and kill it. “Oh, Well I guess you could do that, but here is the prescription just in case.” Yeah Bullshit. Do you realize how many side effects there are? I swear to god, one said, side effects may include hallucinations. I’d rather have the runny nose. Fine I may have some snot on my upper lip, but at least I’m not seeing Elvis in my refrigerator. Damn it.
And especially you fuckers that are already on this shit. Don’t try pushing it off on people who doesn’t want it. Like your kid. “Maybe Bobby’s got some attention deficit disorder.” You know what. Maybe the disorder lies with the parent and not the child. OK. Take a good look in the mirror and figure it out. If you don’t know, and need help: Watch this again.
Stop with the Drugs. Drugs in your head. Cradle of Filth & Liv Kristin- NymphetamineLaid to the river Midsummer, I waved A "V" of black swans On with hope to the grave And though Red September With skies fire-paved I begged you appear Like a thorn for the holy ones Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your loneliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision Sunsetter... Nymphetamine Sick and weak from my condition This lust, this vampyric addiction To Her alone in full submission None better... Nymphetamine Nymphetamine, Nymphetamine... Nymphetamine girl. Nymphetamine, Nymphetamine... My Nymphetamine girl. Wicked with your charm I'm circled like prey Back in the forest Were whispers persuade More sugar trails More white lady laid Than pillars of salt... (keeping Sodom at at bay) Fold to my arms Hold their message away And dance out to the moon As we did in those golden days Christening stars I remember the way We were needle and spoon Mislaid in the burning hay Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your loneliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision Sunsetter... Nymphetamine Sick and weak from my condition This lust, this vampyric addiction To Her alone in full submission None better... Nymphetamine Nymphetamine, Nymphetamine... Nymphetamine girl. Nymphetamine, Nymphetamine... My Nymphetamine girl. April 07 Session #2I stand in front of the door, the same door I was knocking a few days before. This time I haven't even touched it, because part of me doubts on if this is a good idea. In the end, life is matter of perspective. I rise my hand and knock twice; silence, and the only sound is my knocking, bouncing inside the house. The wind starts rising from the ground, lifting leafs and dust from the pavement. There is a play ground across the street, but only the owl of the wind plays in it. While I think of this, he opens the door and tells me to come in. His eyes are dwelled, like if he has been crying recently. I am about to ask, but his sight makes me understand that there are certain questions that shouldn't be done. We go inside the basement again, the dark place of healing. This time, besides the instruments of the past time, there is a big pan filled with water. "What is that for?" I ask, while turning around to see Them... but I didn't see, he hits me on my throat and made me stumble to the ground. I'm in there when they tie my still aching wrists to my legs, making me arch to the back on the dusty ground. One of Them opens the instruments kit, and takes out the towel. It isn't bigger than a napkin, but is enough to cover my mouth and nose. "I still can breath through it", are the words that come to my mind. Wrong again: before I realize, the purpose of the pan with water becomes clear to me. While two of them step with all the weigh of their bodies on my wrists, avoiding me to move, the third one steps on my chest, expelling all the air. With the towel still on my face, they pour big amounts of water on it, until it is soaked and dripping. Until air is nothing but a distant memory that mocks me in front of my eyes. Until concience fades away from me. I start seeing black spots, and feeling a strong force in the back of my head pulling me to the shadows. I fall; that is what They have been waiting for. The blades are taken out. I dive in a world of colorful darkness, with voices from the past. I don't understand where am I, but I want out of here. Many people from my past are speaking to my ear, and I hate all of them. Yes, I hate all of them, and the desire to smack their fucking heads against a bricks wall pleases me. I try to swim away, but can't... and the voices stay next to me. I wake up later, still tied to the ground, but with my shirt missing and a funny feeling all over my chest, tummy and arms. Like if I had wires inside me; no idea of what they are. But when I'm getting my full sight back, there is a shadow crawling across my chest. One leg... then the other... a lot of hair... until I realize it is a spider, a big one, on me. I try to get up from the ground, but it is in that moment that I discover why there are little wires under my skin: every "wire" is actually a wound, not wide at all, but deep enough to produce a severe infection in the muscle. They are masters of their field: no wound is visible at all until I move. The next thing I know, there is a huge puddle of blood around me, and I'm about to faint again. They leave me like that, until the blood stops comming out, and dries on my skin. I hear one particular voice in my head, telling me lies about every aspect I used to believe in... and then I wake up again. They untied me, and lifted me from the ground. All I know is, my arms are lifted from the ground, my thumbs are tied to a vige in the "ceiling", and what avoids me from a huge load of pain is the little ebony table under my feet. "Hanging from my thumbs... two thumbs up", comes to my mind. He approaches me. "Do you remember last time, when we asked you to let out your anger?" "Yes, with the electrical shock... why?" He kicks the table away from my feet, and my shout is dwelled by the walls of the room. I wish the nods break, but they won't. The second of them has been holding a few needles in the fire of a lighter since I woke up, and the gloves on His hands are not a good sign. He is handled with a needle and comes very close. Before he has time to introduce it in my skin, I heavily coarse with my loud voice all the demons that came to my mind when I was unconcious. I stop for a moment, trying to think if it is fair to coarse a certain persons, but the smell of burnt flesh tells me that those doubts are useless. Along with the calcitating pain that reaches a muscle, I keep vomiting every single hatred though of my rotten, useless heart. For every doubt, a red, incandescent needle. Three are inserted in my arms for the moment I fall unconcious again. Blank. Nothing in my mind for now. For the moment I wake up, it is already the night. They have left the place, and there is a note close to my sleeping table: "we will be waiting for you next Saturday. Thank you". I stand up slowly, still with my whole body in pain, get in my shoes and go downstairs for the outside door. When I close it, a few words come to my brain: "No... thanks to You". April 06 What is a session?He opens me the door, and tells me they've been waiting for me for a while now. Outside, it is close to noon, but when we enter the basement, all the light entrances are covered with red fabric, making it look like a bloody sunset. Reminds me of a particular scene of a movie... They are five, each one with a mind more macabre than the previous one, but all of them angels, as they want to help me. Angels have a very unconvecional way to aid those who need it. As a salutation, every one shakes my hand and huggs me, before leading me to the ebony table in the corner of the room. From somewhere behind the walls a static sound fills the whole place, and mixes with the white light that covers the walls. I sit on one side of the little table, right in front of the same one who opened the door, of the one who told me about this whole method in the first place. "Extend your hand" one of them says. For that moment, two of them have already tied my chest to the chair with leather belts, another one is opening a kit with alcohol, stitches and vandages, and the last one brings a last kit, and rolls it open on the table. Fifteen different sized needles, 3 types of blades no wider than a human hair, about 2 meters of copper wires, two lighters, a small towel, a small battery with a switch and three bottles about an inch each, filled with a white liquid that I still don't know what it is. They say that I will get to know in a few weeks. "Extend your hand, please". I do so, with my fist tigh closed and he wrapps a vandage around my arm, just below the elbow. I feel the muscles in my arm go hard, as the blood gets stucked inside my fear-full veins. One needle is taken out from the kit. The one sitting in front of me is holding my wrist hard against the ebony, to avoid me from taking it off. All I have to do to prevent all this from happening is saying "no more", but I can't give up now. I try to breath deeply, which is hard due to the leather belts around me. The first needle goes cold inside my skin, and through the flesh, until it touches a nerve inside my hand. I start seeing black spots in front of my eyes, and my face is broken into a gesture of pain, but the words still don't come out of my mind. Four more needles are diving into my flesh now, two in my hand, one in my wrist and one next to a vein. The ones that hurt the most are inside the dorso of my hand, and are the ones he is touching to see if they are in the right place. They are. Suddenly, that arm is grabbed and lifted hard on top of my head: the muscle stretches, and the needles inside move. Tears roll down my cheek and wet my silent lips. My arm is held high until it feels cold; the more I fight to put it down, the more I move. It is put back in the table, and tied to it. All I can move is my wrist, the rest is well- attached. Honestly, I don't want to move it anyway. But I have to: he takes out the battery and a little piece of wire, to plug it to a new needle. It is now that I understand why they use thick leather gloves. The needle approaches her sisters inside my hand, threating with shocking me. Instinctively, my hand moves to a side to avoid the pain, paradoxically creating more. He keeps moving his needle to keep me in the motion until I am exhausted and give up to the electricity. The time remains unknown to me, but it's been a hundred years since yesterday. Am I going to be able to move my arm in a while? He turns off the battery, and I think that it was over. Wrong... The battery is plugged to the two metal strings in my hand, but isn't turn on yet. "I want you to think of the most painful moments of your life. I want you to remember all those persons who get you into anger. I want you to visualize them sitting in front of you, laughing at you. And I want you to let out your emotions against them, to shout and even try to kill them". It is hard in the begining, due to all the pain. A buzz fills the room, and a shock deafs me when he turned on the battery. "Do it. They are in front of you". Once the electricity dries up, I see them in front of me. There is a smell on the air, sweet, but I shall not listen to them... words burst out of my mouth against everybody, people I hate, people I love, people I know... when I've said enough, I fall exhausted in my sit, but they turn on the battery again. After turning it off, he tells me: "that is your problem. You burst until you calm down, but you leave remainings inside you!!!" "I am dry, I have nothing else inside!" Another flow of shock, until the demons inside me wake up again. I shout, I get lose from the bondages and start shouting hate, until I kick the little table against a wall. They pull off the needles and I crumble to the ground. They come close to me, and heal my bleeding arm. They let me rest in a bed upstairs until I wake up from a blurry dream. "You can go now. We'll see you in a couple of days". My whole body hurts, and it is almost impossible to wake up. But I feel certain liberation... liberate, my madness. They help me go outside. I turn on a cigar and walk back home, waiting for my next session. April 03 Bersuit Vergarabat- Sr. Cobranza (Mr. Vendetta)Voy a la cocina, luego al comedor miro la revista y el televisor, me muevo para aqui, me muevo para alla norma pla a cavallo lo tiene que matar. que me vienen con chorizo pero ya va a llegar que cocinen a la madre de cavallo y al papa o a lo hijos, si es que tiene o a su amigo el presidente no le dejen ni los dientes porque menem porque menem, porque menem se lo gana y no hablemos de pavadas si son todos traficantes y si no el sistema que y si no el sistema que... no me digan se mantiene con la plata de los pobres eso solo sirve para mantener algunos pocos. ellos transan, ellos venden y es solo una figurita el que este de presidente porque si estaba alfonsin el que transa es otro gil son todos narcos, y de los malos y si te agarran con un gramo despues que te la pusieron se viene la policia, de seguro que vas preso. y asi sube, la balanza, el precio tambien sube, tambien sube la venganza; y ahora va, ¿ahora que? "son todos narcos, y el presidente es el tipo que mantenga mas tranquila a nuestra gente" "lleva plata del lavado", mientras no salte la bronca el norte no manda palos ay ay ay, uy uy uy ¿que me dicen del dedito que le meten en jujuy? ay ay ay, uy uy uy ¿que me dicen del dedito que le meten en jujuy? es ese perro "el santillan". si no lo pueden voltear lo van a querer comprar con discursos, si no les sale, son capaz de dar acciones a los grandes mercaderes, eso no importa, porque el perro va dejando otro perrito que le mete a este sistema el dedito en el culito y como sangra y no es el culo sino el que sangra y se retuerce es el gran culo de este mundo. ¡adios el muro, stalinista! los democratas de mierda y los forros pacifistas todos narcos, todos narcos todos narcotraficantes, te trasmiten por cadena, son de caos, paranoiquean, te persiguen si sos puto, te persiguen si sos pobre, te persiguen si fumas, si tomas si vendes si fumas, o compras un pobre toco que lo haces para comer si tomas, vendes, compras, fumas y vayanse todos a la concha de su madre ¿ahora que nos queda? eleccion o reeleccion para mi es la misma mierda ¡hijos de puta! en el congreso, hijos de puta en la rosada y en todos los ministerios van cayendo hijos de puta que te cagan a patadas... porque en la selva, se escuchan tiros y son las armas de los pobres son los gritos del latino... porque en la selva, se escuchan tiros y son las armas de los pobres son los gritos del latino... porque en la selva, se escuchan tiros y son las armas de los pobres son los gritos del latino... porque en la selva, se escuchan tiros y son las armas de los pobres son los gritos del latino... porque en la selva, se escuchan tiros y son las armas de los pobres son los gritos del latino... la ...tino la ...tino latino soy latino porque tienen el poder y lo van a perder tienen el poder y lo van a perder tienen el poder y lo van a perder tienen el poder y lo van a perder tienen el poder y lo van a perder en la selva se escuchan tiros y son las armas de los pobres, son los gritos del latino March 20 People... are you stupid or what?The previous post was for myself!
Machika, sorry to say so, but you don't know me as to call me that way. It's ok, i wasn't specific, but at least ask first what I'm talking about, please. I originally posted it in my xanga as a burst of hate and anger inside me, but after re-reading it, I though it was very appliable to my own person, so I put it in here to always remember... "Wake Up Hate"
We got a fucked up reason to live who really gives a fuck? we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up You gotta get it straight we're gunna give it up we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up I am the burden of my everything, an open scar I'll be reborn in hatred, feeling I can't love no more I've had to suffer I cannot wait for more. No loving and no praying All my hate is for the taking We got a fucked up reason to live who really gives a fuck? we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up You gotta get it straight we're gunna give it up we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up I am the falling of my happiness it is no more Stop loving, I’m still hating till I can not hate no more I've had to suffer I cannot wait for more. No loving and no praying All my hate is for the taking I'm, I am filthy wasted piece of shit I am disgusting take me, away We got a fucked up reason to live who really gives a fuck? we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up You gotta get it straight we're gunna give it up we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up We got a fucked up reason to live who really gives a fuck? we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna fuck you up I wanna break everything I wanna make it sting we're gunna wake up hate we're gunna wake it up Erick March 15 We know who this is for, don't even dare to doubt itYOU ARE PURE SCUM!!!!! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!! YOU, WHO ALWAYS TOLD ME YOU CARED ABOUT ME! WHERE WERE YOU IN MY DARKEST MOMENTS? HU? ANSWER, I CAN'T HEAR YOU! OK, I'LL ANSWER FOR YOU! YOU WERE FUCKING MAKING THEM WORSE, PICKING ON THE DEEPEST WOUNDS! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!! SO YOU GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME?! I DON'T THINK SO!!!!! PROVE IT!!! I FUCKING DARE YOU, PROVE IT THAT YOU EVEN THINK OF ME ONE SECOND A DAY UNLESS YOU SEE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I DESIRE THE WORSE FOR YOU! I DESIRE YOU VERY UMPLEASANT AND PAINFUL LIFE! I HOPE YOU ARE VERY UNHAPPY SO I CAN BE THERE LAUGHING AT YOU!!! YOU AND THOSE AROUND YOU, WHO THINK CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT AND YOU ARE COOL FOR WHO YOU ARE, LET ME TELL YOU! YOU ARE NOTHING! ALL YOUR DESIRES AND PLANS AND SATISFACTIONS ARE NOTHING! THEY ARE PASSANGER, THEY WILL FADE AWAY AND FOR YOU ONLY SADNESS AND MISSERY AWAIT!!!!!! PROVE YOU ARE HUMAN! PROVE YOU ARE WORTH!!!! YOU CAN'T, CAN YOU?! I WISH I CAN BE IN ALL YOUR NIGHTMARES, EVEN WHEN YOU USED TO SAY I WAS IN YOUR DREAMS!!! I HOPE YOU CAN NEVER FORGET ME AND MY MERE MEMORY ROTS YOUR VERY GUTS SLOWLY SO YOU GO DOWN IN PAIN! FUCK YOU!!!! FUCK YOU! I HATE YOU!!!! I HATE YOU, I WISH I NEVER IN MY FUCKING LIFE WASTED MY TIME WITH YOU, CARING ABOUT YOU, BEING THERE FOR YOU!!!! I HAD SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU AND I THREW IT AWAY FOR YOU WHO ARE WORTHLESS AND WHO RETRIBUTE ME WITH NOTHING BUT A HANDFUL OF DUMP!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND YOU DARED TO LIE TO ME IN MY FACE!!!!!!!!!! AND TO PRETEND! AND TO MAKE ME FEEL PITTY FOR YOU!!!! HA! LOOK AT YOU NOW, YOU CAN BE SATISFIED ON THE SURFACE, BUT I KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN LATER, WHEN YOU FALL!!!! How funny, i though i would feel better after that, but it doesn't seem to help... whatever, i'm down, i'm down... fuck you all, you are nothing, even when you seemed to be before... read this very well: whoever is with you will end up seeing you are nothing but a counterfit, a fake who can't be a person by yourself, but who needs others to parasite, who lacks of personality... Erick March 01 I want to liveI cracked... I want to live... I love her so much, I don't want to lose my life... I want to be here, and enjoy... fuck sake, I need to live, even when everyday it is so painfull... I don't want to lose her... ever...
Shit, I don't like my life... I hate every part of it (persons who I loved turned out to be shit, every single one of them, pain takes me over in every single part of my day, nightmares chase me every night, "I hear voices but all they do is complain"... how can I live? HOW THE FUCK CAN I LIVE?!), but I can't lose it. I have somebody very valious... I need to be alive, and have a future... No fucking idea how I'm gonna build it, but I must... I have to fight this inside me... This is my fight... have to do this on my own... I haven't suffered as much as now, for the decision of living... i also need death within me, but if i do it... I can't... Ahora que está todo en silencio
Y que la calma me besa el corazón Os quiero decir "adiós" porque ha llegado la hora, de que andeis el camino ya sin mí hay tanto por lo que vivir, no llores, cielo, y vuélvete a enamorar me gustaría volver a verte sonreir. Pero, mi vida, yo nunca podré olvidarte
y sólo el viento sabe lo que has sufrido por amarme, hay tantas cosas, que nunca te dije en vida, que eres todo cuanto amo, y ahora que ya no estoy junto a tí
te cuidaré desde aquí. Sé que la culpa os acosa,
y te susurra al oído "pude hacer más", no hay nada que reprochar, ya no hay demonios en el fondo de cristal, y solo bebo todos los besos que no te dí Pero, mi vida, yo nunca podré olvidarte
y sólo el viento sabe lo que has sufrido por amarme, hay tantas cosas, que nunca te dije en vida, que eres todo cuanto amo, y ahora que ya no estoy junto a tí...
vivo cada vez que hablais de mí, y muero otra vez si llorais. Te he aprendido al fin a disfrutar
y soy feliz. No llores, cielo
y vuélvete a enamorar. Nunca me olvides, me tengo que marchar. Pero, mi vida, yo nunca podré olvidarte
y sólo el viento sabe lo que has sufrido por amarme, hay tantas cosas, que nunca te dije en vida, que eres todo cuanto amo, y ahora que ya no estoy junto a tí...
desde el Infierno, os arroparé en la noche
y os acunaré en los sueños Y espantaré todos los miedos. Desde el Infierno, os esperaré escribiendo, no estoy solo, pues me cuidan la libertad y la esperanza... yo nunca os olvidaré Desde Mi Cielo- Mago de Oz
Erick February 28 How to kill yourself like a manHow to kill yourself like a man. I was applying for a job to become a suicide prevention counselor the other day, when the guy interviewing me started bitching about how boring his job had become. The only people he ever hears from anymore are 14 year old girls who try to overdose on Tylenol. YAWN. How about killing yourself with some style? How about killing yourself like a man? Here are some manly ways to shove off this mortal coil, along with ratings for each category from 1 to 10:
What you need: a tub, enough beans to fill said tub.
How to do it: just dig in, you chunky son of a bitch! Keep eating until you can't possibly eat anymore, then eat some more. Your gut will rupture and you will shit yourself. The cool thing about this method is that it's not only disgusting to clean up, but you'll probably be so bloated from the beans (choose Van Camp's by the way, not Bush's baked beans unless you like the taste of beans pickled in ball sweat) that you probably won't fit in the casket without some serious reconstructive surgery. Guess who's footing the bill for that one? That's right: friends and family. Just kidding. You have no friends.
What you need: hands.
What you need: balls. How to do it: this is similar to strangling yourself, but the difficulty level is hard. Harder than a priest at a playground.
Step 1: Hold your breath.
What you need: razor, neck. How to do it: how many times have you tried to kill yourself with a razor blade by slashing up your wrists, only to be told "it's down the highway, not across the street"? Then you listen to this advice and cut up your arms like some amateur dipshit who doesn't know what she's doing. Your boyfriend dumped you. You can't go on because you're the only person who has ever been dumped and this is the most painful thing that has happened to anyone who has lived 14 consecutive years, so it's time for the solace only decapitation can bring you. Make sure to go all the way through the spinal column.
What you need: ice cream scooper, cadbury eggs. How to do it: spoon out your eyes with the ice cream scooper, and replace them with cadbury easter eggs. Then using any of the methods above, kill yourself. Your family may hate the suicide, but everyone loves cadbury cream eggs! Why disappoint your loved ones with plain old boring eyes, when you can surprise them with chocolate instead?! Try to do it around easter. The kids will have hours of fun trying to find the last two treats.
What you need: a sidewalk. How to do it:
Step 1: Slam your head into the sidewalk. Headbutting is probably the manliest thing ever. Not only is it useful for suicide, it's also a great way to break up with your girlfriend. For example, I couldn't find the words to tell my ex that our relationship was over, so one day while we were watching TV I headbutt her in the tits. Then I picked up my jacket and left. No awkward goodbyes, no "still friends" bullshit. Just a couple of bruised titties and a failed relationship. I rule.
What you need: a hooker, $0.75. How to do it: find a hooker and inquire about her "ass buffet." If she doesn't know what you're talking about, punch her. If she does know what you're talking about, she shouldn't charge you more than 75 cents to lick her ass. You may even get away with not having to pay her since technically it's not sex (unless you're gay, but I'm not sure if it counts if it's a woman). Fair warning: not paying a hooker is considered shoplifting. Once you've done the (mis)deed, you may want to have some alcohol nearby. Make sure it's something strong like turpentine, because you'll be tasting a mouth full of funk and hookers don't always shit properly depending on their clientele. The tingling feeling in your mouth means the disease is working. Just sit back and relax while your penis falls off and you break out in hives. Then just wait a few months and if the other diseases don't get to you first, the AIDS will. Talk about a cheap suicide! At 75 cents, you can't afford not to kill yourself! That's it for now. Just remember: it's your suicide, have fun with it.
Erick
Taken from: http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=manly_suicide |
How to do it: strangling yourself with your own hands has long been thought impossible because when your body stops getting enough oxygen, you pass out and start breathing normally again. Passing out while you try to kill yourself is like failing at failing. You're the one who has to deal with the embarrassment of having the paramedics finding your dumb ass passed out on the floor in a puddle of your own drool, as they begrudgingly take you to the hospital where the doctors would be so disappointed that one of them might try to strangle you themselves. And if they don't, give me a call; I will. Even the late Vincent Price strangled himself to death. Either that or lung cancer, but I can't be bothered to look it up. Eat shit.
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