The Principal of Qisas

Everyone needs a little closure, every now and then. A little retribution to ease the gaping, wounded, pesky bitch called sadness aka lost aka cry baby aka hatred. 

Of course, as the principle of nature dictates, for every act there is bound to be a reaction, and therefore a never ending cycle of glorious hate and bloodlust, ad infinitum. 

Then, of course, you can always savor the insults, the hatred, the pulsating lust for vengeance. Slow burn for better times when no one expects it, and when the pleasure will double and triple by every slash and hack. 

Wonderful View XXXII

The more you twitch, the more beautifully fiendish it shall be. 

Why won’t you all ever learn?

Sliced heroes

I’ve always admired those who stood up courageously to try and change things that are ‘wrong’, ‘crooked’, ‘unjust’…whatever you call it. Mostly because, more often than not, they’ll always end up in some kind of tragic, bloody, pathetic death. 

Heroic death, as some like to call it. So fucking heroic they’ll write songs about it. Hell, they even create some bullshit story about how the hero will get resurrected, one day…

Reincarnated, in a new, pathetic, heroic pile of flesh. Survivor of a grim, long forgotten, severely butchered death.

Well, I don’t think this catharsis thing my doctor talks about, with this blogging thingy, is working well. 

I still crave the blood. The heroic ones..