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 Affliction 8.10.14.

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Alioth Starre

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Join date : 2014-07-23
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PostSubject: Affliction 8.10.14.   Sat Aug 09, 2014 2:36 pm

He sat on the floor of the Earth, still. The stars twirled to the cosmic music box like celestial ballerinas on the toes of space, and the heels of time. His eyes were the channel in which his brain tuned in to view the universe it pondered, but even without it there was wonder to behold both new and old of the world of words everyone had told.

Everyone mind is far, far away in a galaxy long ago for it has already been foretold. When the metal pin strikes metal tabs and the music resonates within the air of time, it goes on and on reciting the same old notes, even if the noise is new to you and I.

Our ears, the resonating chamber for which it travels through to assault our senses with information already known. How fresh some perspectives might be to young hearts, and realizations to the old, but everything was here before you could hear it. I am only one individual that recognizes this, and understands that I am part of that new wave of old age. I am not aged by any stretch of the flesh, but imagination ages like fine wine and only more so when you have the opportunity to connect the world around you with the thoughts within.

Many people don’t quite grasp the information that overloads their audio sensory theatre, but I do. We walk the Earth knowing that we walk the Earth, and knowing that the Earth will turn when we walk it no longer, no matter what we do to it.

However, despite the understanding of time and space, there are others that choose to suffocate it under the fabric of dissonance. It is like a harsh vibration that cracks the flesh of the planet, and instead of this universal song that we try to collect the notes and rhythm, it is shattered by the screaming of the Earth.

Think of a bubble in all of its simplistic complexity just rising to the atmosphere in its modest serenity, and then when it is popped, though the destroyer perceives nothing, what truly happens is a catastrophic event that tears the entire entity like the skinning of an animal in seconds. Those precious moments you are unable to see saves you from knowing the destruction you are truly causing by forcing something out of existence.

Yes, it is understood that a bubble does not truly exist as we do, and its form was made to be destroyed, but I am not the same. We are not the same. I have created myself through the pathways of time, and traveled hardships unnumbered in this barren space to forge a name that carries as much weight as the neutron star. To be denied that is like popping that bubble and turning as the flesh of its surface is torn away and reduced to absolutely nothing. The only thing left to do is to make another one, but what happens when you’ve established so much and don’t want to start fresh?

That is where I stand in my tower, where I don’t look down. You can be okay there on the ground, but I will hide away in here alone, for me to be, and you cannot ruin.


A girl, naked and alone cries into her knees. Her arms folded over them to hug her frame close with shame. Her legs, bare and crossed so one foot delicately presses over the other. She rests over the crescent moon, with a smaller one above her hair, within a circle of the stars, though a bright one watches from behind, just above this image of beautiful sadness. Her wings were all that guided her through the land she made her own, but one day she had to cut them off. To remove her own wings so that she may join the others on the ground.

When you destroy what makes you special, you lose the very reason anyone loved you in the first place. You lose what made you unique in the first place.

She lead them, and became them. After all, none of us really qualified as human. We were all hard worn and as hollow as the ‘O’ in god.

I now stand before you with my own cut, and my flesh hollowed out. One match does not make me who I was, but it is a start. This is a journey through the miasma of this organization’s dissonance. In time, I will honor the man that was by becoming something similar, but I cannot truly be who he was ever again. There is a difference when you clone something, because otherwise you are just a mockery of it.

When you steal, you must build upon it, lest it is nothing more than plagiarism. No one likes that, do they? If you steal something, or someone and do not make it your own, then you are nothing more than a television, radio, or internet that just repeats what we put into it without any intellectual properties to change it into something that changes the world. You are no longer sentient, but transparent. So, I cannot be who I was, for that man has already come and gone, but you may get a glimpse of him as you did last week when I debuted.

In the end, I’ve become you, and I will soon lead you. After all, none of us are truly human, we are just creations come together to form something wholly new. Some of us are hard worn, and some of us hollow, but I would hope that everyone is at least something, and not just someone else.
 You think you know what’s to come, who you are, but you’ve only just begun. These words, may them echo through your mind as they do mine. They are worlds I build upon, and words that remind me there is always the need to become greater, and something other than just me.

--

The future sounds of London cry with whales and the wails of past fails. Sinking beneath waters of time, it will become enveloped by dissonance. My home world soon home to the new world we ordered. Instead of understand the universe, people have decided to manipulate it to make real their petty fantasies that never could exist, nor did in the first place.

Here, I aim to strike down those individuals. One of them presents themselves to me at the next event, carded and boarded on a gemini spacecraft. The horror scopes and it’s about time for a thriller.



Where to start is hard to begin with. I have been known to strike nerves and Ad hominem, to which I try hard not to in these days. Unfortunately, it is hard to ignore such urges when presented with an individual as I am for the next event. So, please allow me to address him personally, if only briefly, before I revert back to the reformation age.

Cee-Five Ion is a man who looks to have dub-stepped out of the house. Thinks he is Vader in black white and red, but with know knowledge that poor spelling strikes braincells dead. I am sorry, but I refuse to acknowledge you with the numerical intent you intended to intensify your name, no, I will not classify you as an equal until you realize that nothing lies in giving yourself a ridiculous and unrealistic stylized name. Yes, I understand my own name is derivative of the cosmos, but it is consistent, and it is not a burden on my, nor anyone else’s shoulders. It is a true name that can be taken for its meaning, or just taken as a simple name, but yours is like a dissonant wave trying to break the mould with mold for your fantasy drama.

If I were you, and was forced to imbue my nature with such willfully-ignorant behavior, I’d forget about the bass and drop face. The only way you can get away with doing this is if you in a war with the stars, and, at least for this moment, I will grant you that in my presence.

I don’t go mobile, I go cosmic. I’m noble with causes classic, not chernobyl. Do you know who you are about to step into the ring with? I bow down arms wide like the legend Mozart with intellectual pride, whilst you come in here with your bad name, arrogant air, gelled hair and no fame to claim with your name. So, dead mouse, I hope you have prepared something on this skrillex you’ve got cooking because though I understand it is arrogance on my own part, I am the cosmos of impeccable come to disable you.

 Now, beyond that, which I understand was an off-shoot to insulate that match with insults, I have seen your efforts recently, and must say I need more to be impressed. I am biased, somewhat, so understand, if you can, that just your name alone makes me not want to like you, or even give you a chance, but we’re going to be stepping into the ring together anyway, so let’s play this game where we see who can say the most radical thing to burst flame up the other just to rise out a winner so the folks can go home and enjoy their dinner. In the end, our goal is to entertain the audience that come to see us do what we love, and whether the name is bad, or the ego is grand, it comes down to the simple art of combat performance.

My hope is that you’re good at it and capable of making the rounds with me. I don’t mind losing if you are better, but go into this knowing I will win. If you don’t go into your matches knowing that you will win, what chance do you have of it? Once you go in with that train of thought, you see the challenges as something to overcome and can actually enjoy. Okay, so you may have me on the mat, but I know I’ll overcome this, but how? That leads to the answer, and the answer leads to our exchange, like to and fro. In the end, someone has to win, because no one likes a draw. This isn’t a coloring book, so I’m certain you’ll be able to accept the straightness of what we must do for those that watch us. I will win, you will lose, and I will continue my path of rebuilding who I am and presenting it to all of you so that you may see what a true legend is. So that all of you may see exactly who is in your midsts. The frivolous little battles for championships all your current top players vie for like ants battling termites will be known when I ascend. My ascension is coming, ladies and gentlemen, however slow it may be, but I am eternal and I can wait a very, very long time. I have seen people come and go as I rose to power and stayed there for nearly two-hundred days. When I sit upon that throne of entitlement, I stay there like a king in the celestial kingdom. Only the worthy throw me down, and only the worthy will know me as I am now.

Those not worthy will not see me coming, nor do you see me at all. This match, if I win, might ping some radars, but everyone’s at least won two matches here and there. This is not blind luck, children, this is the harsh light of day come to pass over the veil of darkness your higher beings need to see the world around them. Tinted and tainted, they will not even recognize what my opponent does when he lays flat on the white, bleak canvas of the squared circle. He will know long before any of you who I am, what’s to come.

You won’t even know.

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