death lesson - 19
"Rocketry may not be my True Will, but it's one hell of a powerful drive. With Thelema as my goal and the stars my destination and my home, I have set my eyes on high." - John Whiteside "Jack" Parsons
Silly as a novelty rockabilly tune playing off the iPod on the way to church. He has given up on turning his new found life as a rag doll into an Elizabethan tragedy. Rumple was in his button eyes not only brilliant but divine, though he felt that those were not characteristic that would get him anywhere in this world. "words are not my thing." he thought. "no I think I will give up on that dream of walking side by side with Jesus all my sins washed away. And instead will except I am a sinner looking only for redemption and will look dutifully for the next, attractive place in these quite godforsaken woods and lay down and call it home till I am saved or till every fiber of me is rotten away. " it was a scheme he hoped this display of devotion would call down a flaming chariot to carry him home...it did not.
The poetry of obscenity is the inclusive symmetry of the jump from a firearm cracking your teeth with particles of your brain being tasted, like an eye for the first time seeing itself, without the use of a mirror. The species of the dead is not stuffed with cotton. No, they sneeze a mist of decay and cough up maggots.
Rumple is a symbol of life...A symbol for life being poorly lived. At least the living part of life, the part that god judges, the part that he punishes. Whether right or wrong, some of us are strangled by our own shadow in the ritual (ab)use of a society that still believes in the illusion of progress.
As for Rumple literal ragdoll laying on the ground in a gesture of prostrations without reward. The black dog, Running out of the woods eyes glowing red, mauled him stuffing falling from the shotgun wound in his chest. Paws are stomping to the tearing rhythm of jaws locking with an instinct to kill. The ragdoll screamed, "oh, you bastard!" and it seemed that this made the dog angry.
"stop it, Disappointment." said the witch stomping in her dress to the path of the rainbow road. The dog quit stomping and ripping it; it did however growl. as the witch screamed "you are such a worthless disappointment of a yard rat." the dog let go then said, "he is a Christian, this fucker even prayed to Jesus." Rumple said only "...oh, you bastard!" which started the dog mauling again. And the witch screamed, "damn it disappointment yous stupid fucking worthless dog." and grabbing him by his collar "Who do you think has to sew him back together? Me, disappointment, that is who will have to do it." she picked up the pieces of Rumple, and placed them in a basket. Then said "this is the one I have foreseen, the one destined to free the fuckboys. we must take him home and start the repairs." "What is with disappointment?" said rumple, voice muffled through the bag." "Oh, eventually he quit responding to anything else. Disappointment is my little dog's name." said the witch as she fled from the rainbow road and the nightmares that walked it.
Silly as a novelty rockabilly tune playing off the iPod on the way to church. He has given up on turning his new found life as a rag doll into an Elizabethan tragedy. Rumple was in his button eyes not only brilliant but divine, though he felt that those were not characteristic that would get him anywhere in this world. "words are not my thing." he thought. "no I think I will give up on that dream of walking side by side with Jesus all my sins washed away. And instead will except I am a sinner looking only for redemption and will look dutifully for the next, attractive place in these quite godforsaken woods and lay down and call it home till I am saved or till every fiber of me is rotten away. " it was a scheme he hoped this display of devotion would call down a flaming chariot to carry him home...it did not.
The poetry of obscenity is the inclusive symmetry of the jump from a firearm cracking your teeth with particles of your brain being tasted, like an eye for the first time seeing itself, without the use of a mirror. The species of the dead is not stuffed with cotton. No, they sneeze a mist of decay and cough up maggots.
Rumple is a symbol of life...A symbol for life being poorly lived. At least the living part of life, the part that god judges, the part that he punishes. Whether right or wrong, some of us are strangled by our own shadow in the ritual (ab)use of a society that still believes in the illusion of progress.
As for Rumple literal ragdoll laying on the ground in a gesture of prostrations without reward. The black dog, Running out of the woods eyes glowing red, mauled him stuffing falling from the shotgun wound in his chest. Paws are stomping to the tearing rhythm of jaws locking with an instinct to kill. The ragdoll screamed, "oh, you bastard!" and it seemed that this made the dog angry.
"stop it, Disappointment." said the witch stomping in her dress to the path of the rainbow road. The dog quit stomping and ripping it; it did however growl. as the witch screamed "you are such a worthless disappointment of a yard rat." the dog let go then said, "he is a Christian, this fucker even prayed to Jesus." Rumple said only "...oh, you bastard!" which started the dog mauling again. And the witch screamed, "damn it disappointment yous stupid fucking worthless dog." and grabbing him by his collar "Who do you think has to sew him back together? Me, disappointment, that is who will have to do it." she picked up the pieces of Rumple, and placed them in a basket. Then said "this is the one I have foreseen, the one destined to free the fuckboys. we must take him home and start the repairs." "What is with disappointment?" said rumple, voice muffled through the bag." "Oh, eventually he quit responding to anything else. Disappointment is my little dog's name." said the witch as she fled from the rainbow road and the nightmares that walked it.
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