I now have seen all the horrors of mankind, and I let my
emotions feed on them, absorb their gloomy powers,
extracting the essence of the pureness and beauty of these actions.
They stimulated me in exploring virginal regions of my most
hidden layers of awareness. And now I caress these bleak
images of fading life and fearing screams of anguish, illuminating
my newborn creativity.
Thus, see here! There is no doubt that
violence is monarch of the planet and love is a mere addition to
the divinity of carnal play. And a combination of both powers
will result in a pleasuring spree of merciless rage, resulting in the
climax of death.
And with the newborn eye within my paranoid mind,
I glance upon the limitless number of possibilities of individual
armageddon,
with an equally limitless number of variations. And once I've chosen
my path, the imaginary turns intoo organic. With the gift from the
reaper I sporadicly evolve into this state of unstoppable death,
grinning at the faces of my victims laying bleeding in the filthridden
earth.
And I invent yet another ingenious way to conquer the creators
ultimate gift to humanity: the illusion of life. "From the dust of Terra we
were made, and to Her we must return." And then my absent mind comes
back again.
