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Paradox JunkiesShe is slouched against the outside wall of the local bookstore, The Kraken’s Skull. The cracked eyes of a mermaid statuette stare at her from the fly-filled dumpster. She lights up a cigarette and gazes out at the black ocean over the craggy cliffs. She sighs and waits. The mermaid rises up from the dumpster, attached to the head of a disheveled man of about fifty. The man has coke-bottle classes and a dirt-stained khaki trench coat. The man approaches her, his mouth formed into a ridiculous grin, exposing his mustard-colored teeth. “I just got in a new shipment.” “Oho?” “Yeah. HardParadox Junkies
by ~auricstormcloud
Inside a Garbage Can: Gluttony“For the pernicious sin of gluttony I, as thou seest, am battered by this rain.” -The Inferno, Canto VIInside a Garbage Can: Gluttony
Droning subtle, harmonious calls of death, Gluttonous hornets crawl over bottles, The labels washed out, unrecognizable. They bathe their hairy abdomens in the sticky Syrup that floods the forgotten garbage below, And eagerly dip their antennas into goo. Their wings murmur desperately, As they scrape at the stained, clay-colored sides In an attempt to leave their paradise, But sink into saccharine mire, The weight of the morass too great.
The
by ~auricstormcloud
The Traveler“When the overgrown paths cross the tarmac road of the herd, the lone traveler - filthy, often messy and dressed in rags - will be met by a hail of abusive language; mockery, scorn, fear and even hatred... The herd finds no mysterious secrets, no spiritual enlightenment or ancient lore on the tarmac road. The runes and golden pieces of the gods can only be found in the green grass or under the moss, on the overgrown paths." -Varg VikernesThe Traveler
‘Neath the roof of burgundy leaves His gritty fingers, feeling the rune stones, Discover the wisdom of father Odin. He is aware of the knowl
by ~auricstormcloud
Dream, 9-17-06I don’t remember the war but I am holding the ashes of fallen soldiers, my comrades. I sift through their remains, pick up an ear, feel burnt marrow and bone.Dream, 9-17-06
I turn to my mother, eyes filled with tears, and ask for a glass jar. It will keep them safe When I put them below the agarwood tree.
by ~auricstormcloud
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Absolutely nowhere.
- Interests: Warhammer, anime, manga, RPG's, writing, video games
- Favourite movie: The Seventh Seal, The Seven Samurai, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
- Favourite band or musician: Neutral Milk Hotel, Emperor, Smashing Pumpkins, Pink Floyd, Opeth, Agalloch, Tool, Ulver, Arcturus.
- Favourite genre of music: Metal (black/doom), folk, neo-classical, classical, jazz, indie, alternative, experimental, noise.
- Favourite artist: Anyone who makes dark art and such.
- Favourite poet or writer: Kurt Vonnegut, William S. Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams
- Favourite style of art: Surreal. Art. Put them together and you have art surreal.
- Operating System: Mac OS 10.3.9
- MP3 player of choice: iTunes
- Shell of choice: Bombshell.
- Wallpaper of choice: Abstract. Whatever.
- Skin of choice: Shed lizard skin.
- Favourite game: The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, Soul Calibur II, Guilty Gear X2, Final Fantasy I
- Favourite gaming platform: Gamecube, PS2, GBA
- Favourite cartoon character: Guts.
- Personal Quote: "Shoop da woop!"
- Tools of the Trade: Pen, pencil, computer, copious amounts of depression/dreams/visions.
- AIM: auricstormcloud
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