love

Style is the answer to everything. Fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous day. To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without style. To do a dangerous thing with style, is what I call art. Bullfighting can be an art. Boxing can be an art. Loving can be an art. Opening a can of sardines can be an art. Not many have style. Not many can keep style. I have seen dogs with more style than men. Although not many dogs have style. Cats have it with abundance. When Hemingway put his brains to the wall with a shotgun, that was style. For sometimes people give you style. Joan of Arc had style. John the Baptist. Jesus. Socrates. Caesar. García Lorca. I have met men in jail with style. I have met more men in jail with style than men out of jail. Style is a difference, a way of doing, a way of being done. Six herons standing quietly in a pool of water, or you, walking out of the bathroom without seeing me Lyrics from eLyrics.net

Gluttony

Visibly Troubled. Toughened. Rings, one after another, cyclic routine. Yelling. Destructive nature. Bewilderment filling almost every aspect of life. We work, to give poison, feed and indulge minds that don´t appreciate the product. Its just expected to earn, consume, earn, consume, earn, consume, consume, consume. No focus. No memory. Cackles and over zealos smiles line the ranks. Terminal illness that lasts a healthy life time. Minds that don´t dream but watch and repeat, thoughts that are the creation of coorperations, speech hollow, irellavent and vulgar. A lack of mannors. Directly causing lung cancer to the individuals acting. Void of the arts filled with oil. A copy of a copy. Suppressing children with misguided dicipline. Utterly lazy. Ghastly shells evoking evolution of nothing. Narrowing the gene pool. Over crowded with a lack of guard. A fickle dead future like making a house out of toothpicks while katabatic winds line the mountain tops with only their plaque holding it together. This is not future. This is meek existance. I observe cancer spread while blanc on blanc cells struggle. Speechless. Faint comedy and excessive consumption lubricates my joints for another day. I watch my companions slowly cease to function. Fingernails clawing into the rings as the angle increases, the water rises, putrid gasses impregnate the atmosphere. I smile with angst, withdrawral and anxiety and serve one more. I am slave.This is service.

New Beginnings

Good evening Winston, all of the silence that fills the spaces in between us. It will always be there. Who´s looking? Where? The Conveyor Belt. Cogs. One after another. Bag. Bag. Bag. My Bag. Time hangs, motionless as my eyes graze the crop. A field of souls, so numb, so empty, consumption their only purpose. How do they conclude their days? What accomplishment satisfies? Is there satisfaction? Ignorance and enlightenment go hand in hand, so close but never enough . Loading machines, pushing buttons, viewing a fraudulent reality through a rectangle on the wall. Nausea again. Just get the bag off the fucking belt. Slowly. You know its heavy. Twelve kilos excluding glass. Brace, tense, no eye contact, your on the verge of discovery. Sense of purpose overwhelms, doubt is lifted, effortlessly I grab the tattered handle, Swinging on gold plated hinges, courage, destiny, love, terror, actualisation of the self all just ten centimetres away.

The Empire

Destroying it this year http://www.facebook.com/TheEmpireLogistics The Empire

Friluftsliv .... ?

The solace if the icy lake in winter. the value of fire. the true shapes of the elements are exposed in its rawest form. Forced to use your instincts again for a second. To remember to feel like what its like to be alive and powerful. To have effect in even the smallest way again. We are too comfortable in our lives. Sometimes we need to be under dressed on purpose to feel the cold again. Then also retrospectively the the warmth. Remove yourself from your location. Step outside your comfort space. Leave it. and leave behind the prejudices of subconscious negative thoughts built into you by the sarcastic, pessimistic, accepting society you came from. The harshness of the world needs to be felt to see which technologies you need and which ones you want. Which things you crave and which things you desire. The difference between the things you want and the things you would love to have. Judge expectation of yourself. Set is high enough so you will be pushed. But not so you will break it. Using examples from the past where you can see you have learned to your fullest potential. Don’t find a teacher. Find a mentor in the things you want to be a learner to. Take notice of your subconscious idols and pick apart what you think you like about them. Apply these things to your personality subtly as to cause natural influx into your system ... at the speed of evolution YOU are used to. Develop your definitions of words to complete understanding. Reward your learning with fun. You grew up in a system where the teaching was far too broad and then as a result of that, the content far too narrow minded. If a child is not allowed to expand at the rate in which he should have in a particular area he might never go back to that thing in his life again due to the negativity caused. You learn a lot when your a child. Because its fun to learn. The minute abstract discipline with out proper explanation of consequences is given the trust is lost. If there is criticism then there needs to be constructivism. Teachers need to work less on the content of the subject and more on the personalities of the children. Because if you understand the individual child then segregation can take place. Teach friend groups. People always work harder for their friends. Be sure to put children with fewer friends, if they seem unhappy with their friend status with kinder children. There are two types of children. Copiers and Creators. Teachers should not be picked solely on academic knowledge but have vast life experience of what only that icy lake can teach them.

Sysselmannen - Totalitarianism at it Finest

Those who have faith in the law, who follow blindly, a set of rules, base on morals that are incomprehensible are incomprehensible. Why is it within our educational institutions we are not taught. Is it a coincidence? Why is it that curiosity and intelligence is punished. There will always be a system. I'm certain I will always plead. Guilty. And suffer no guilt in doing so. Punishment leads to inspiration. Philosophy. Law. Politics. Coincidently forgotten in school. Who on earth are our teachers taught by. Who are our police trained by. At least I was taught to walk, read and write, right. There is a creature in my head. I named it Logic. It gives the impression to be undistorted under scrutinous interrogation. Also curious to me. Does no one else have a creature clawing at their brain called Logic? Evidently not in office. If I ever have an office, I´l call it prison. If I ever have a cell, I´l call it prejudice, if I ever have all I want, I´l call it fate.

the optimist

Your society will break. it will be no surprises when you fall. The benevolent nature of humans is soon to be extinct. A creature now selfish to the death. No compromise. No love. No beauty. Just function. A landscape tarnished in advertisements for things you are advised to buy by people who invent nothinnessless pieces of discarded shreds of small Indian boys. I’ve seen nothing. I am blind. The world dark. And I smile half the time. I weep the other half and try to comfort. But the adventure. Adventure takes me to hold heads where placement strune across the landscape will teach rivers to become tame. I revel in the madness. I cant wait for provocation and destruction. Chaos warms my soul. To see the eyes of a madman. Un deterred. Spirit infested with horrific glacial crevasses. A death of entrapment. A landscape you would never be able to wonder in. just survive. Elements of touch. Gold. Elements. On the brink of sleep you find productivity. Irony. But stimulants hold you there longer and the dreaming brain is written on paper. Solid evidence of imagination. If only one could truly dream in the day. Activate parts of the spongy matter to fire on all four cylinders. Im in love. I’ve seen potential. I misplaced it. Like a sprinkling of the most precious atoms blown by celestial wind into the vast the cosmos. Trying to find them. Puzzle them back together. Im on the hunt that I know I will die on. Yet I still hunt. There is a larger social network without boundaries in your head. Just learn to listen to the voices. Be comforted by touch. Touching the things you have to keep to yourself. Dark dark caverns. Thought police. Social faux paux. The winds have changed. On my knees I crawl. Rambling effortlessly until the spark extinguishes.