Destroy Erase Improve

A fucking masterpiece is this song. Nothing to add for today.

DemoNstration

So I painted this sunset and then I asked myself "what the hell should I now paint in front of this breathtaking shit?".

What the Hell! A Demon! Yeah, plus eagle at the horizon, kinda cliche if you ask me. 

"Demon Sunset", Gimp again and 2013 all rights fucking reserved. Love ya'll.

Something

"Tree+Flowers" always with my best friend Gimp.

To solve a problem...

To solve a problem... you need a problem.

A) to solve a problem you have to have a problem at hand (tautology shit)
B) to solve a problem you firstly need an easier problem to tackle, something to train on before trying the hard problem.

Now, I have a plethora of problems. We can start with the fact that I'm writing on the fucking internet about me writing on the fucking internet!
Then another problem could be my sick passion for the confession without anything confessed.
Why do I feel this pulsion, this need, for writing (in a language which isn't mine) about nothing at all? Why this show with no audience + nothing to say?

Problems, yeah. Like the inability to express myself or the incapacity to keep people close or the almost nonexistent probability that I'll be able to finally find Peace.
You can say: "man, these are your problems? You stupid?", and you'd be right asking it.
Yes, these are my problems and probably you all are unaware of the fact that it's all killing me. To know that the others won't know, that's a heavy burden.

I want to be heard, I want to flow from day to day without feeling wasted.
And here's the answer: this shy blog-writing is the easy problem I'm solving before the big step. Telepathy.

Now I can go to sleep, I ain't feeling wasted for today.

Nuclear Sunset

It is amazing how much time one can waste just using Paint 2.0 (i.e. Gimp). Here is my latest super work, full of nightmarish seasickness and belligerent love for the colorful landscapes.
Have fun, brothers and sisters.

This is "Nuclear Sunset - from Dusk til Death do us unite", 2013 Gimp and stuff ®

Italy and Death

Just wanted you to know three amazing italian bands.

Warning: it's Death Metal, in order to appreciate it you should follow the usual cursus honorum (Beatles > Led Zeppelin > Deep Purple > Black Sabbath > Motorhead > Judas Priest > Dio > Iron Maiden > Metallica > Exodus > Slayer > At The Gates > Dark Tranquillity > Dismember > Death) (this will take some years).
(of course the progression can go further and you can go on like this Catamenia > Vreid > Immortal > Satyricon > Darkthrone or you can go Periphery > Gorod > Meshuggah > Necrophagist ).

EYECONOCLAST:

HOUR OF PENANCE:

FLESHGOD APOCALYPSE:

Frantumiate i vostri di coglioni

Non è facile "dire il perché" di una cosa.
Però si può ricostruire a ritroso e, con un po' di fantasia, si possono fillare i gap, si può intuire dove risiedano i punti di non-ritorno.
Da un lato c'è una mia incapacità a rapportarmi con le persone. Ok, accettabile, migliorabile, comprensibile, fottuti cazzi miei, niente da eviscerare qua.
Dall'altro lato c'è che non si può teatralizzare, non si può lavorare a mascherare e alla prima frattura shatterare pezzi di maschera ovunque. E poi mi da fastidio che non si capisca, che si debba "dire le cose" senza che le si comprendano da sè.
Da un lato ci sono io a cui non importa, dall'altra voi che non capite e non capite che vi leggo come dei fottuti manuali della lavatrice (= non vi leggo).
Adesso basta, è inutile che sciorìni tutto il mio me stesso, che metta in guardia con "attenti al cane" enormi quando voi comunque "ma che bel cucciol..." BAM via la mano.

E poi la memoria breve... dioscannato Cristo che fastidio quando localizzate le vostre assunzioni nel tempo, quando vetustate una mia frase del giorno prima, la elevate a sistema, quando fate i belli induttivisti con un set di dati D={x}. Cioè con un solo fottuto dato.
E poi leggere le azione coi vostri preconcetti, con le vostre stupide categorie innate-sto-cazzo, quando credete alle buffonate dei film, nelle dicotomie troppo comode di bene-male/falso-vero/amico-nemico/vicino-lontano/tuamadretoria-tuopadreputtaniere.
Basta.
Ce l'ho scritto in faccia: "cerco pace, cerco pece, cerco un bersaglio in mia vece".
È così difficile? È così DIFFICILE? È COSÌ DIFFICILE?

Ti pare sia divertente non capire un cazzo? Ti pare mi stia divertendo a NON CAPIRE CHE CAZZO CI FACCIO QUA?
Mi sono rotto i coglioni di Se e di Ma, di "tu non sai cosa vuol dire...", "tu non capisci...", di dovermi vergognare per quello che sono.
SÌ: non so cosa vuol dire.
SÌ: non capisco.
SÌ: giudico, offendo, egoista, ignorante, malvagio, ingenuo, infantile, squilibrato, patetico, TUTTO.
SÌ, SÌ e SÌ.

Ma non me ne frega un cazzo. Non mi interessa di dover interagire con voi, non mi interessa che questo sia sputare nel piatto da cui mangio, bruciare l'opportunità che mi è offerta.
Non mi interessa che blablabla.

Tanto quando mi pianto un coltello in pancia siete VOI che restate in questa merda.
Faculo, capito, merde?

From the cradle to the grave

The meaning of life (and the prison in life) is loneliness. Being alone is what everyone experiences, what everyone avoids and some desire.
I have often said how much being a single means nothing without cooperation, sharing, interaction and on.
On the other hand true freedom is achieved only in isolation, in a solitary journey by ourselves.
Blablabla

Some days ago I read a question asking: "why didn't our brain evolve into something like a multi-core processor? An highly proficient parallel computer?"
The answer that a neuroscientist and a biologist gave was something like: our brain DOES parallel computing, like while driving one can talk, read the signals, smoke a cigarette and listen to music.
The multitasking capabilities are a basic example of our fragmented but cooperating brain.

Now, why don't we extend this notion? Why don't we see our hegemonic ego as one of the many egos populating our body?
Isn't it reasonable that, when we meet someone we like, one ego deals with the talking and then another ego jumps in, leans the shared body forward and kisses?
Why do we always complain about loneliness, why do we even bother to feel it when it doesn't exist?
I am not an "I", I'm a WE. Many myselves live here, everyone with his/her job, with a hierarchy, a separation of roles, an entire fucking society inside!
Sometimes the egos fight, some other time they strike.

Why listening to the Death's lullaby from the cradle to the grave, when an entire choir sings in our soul?

A long time ago I wrote the following simple shit, seems good for this post:

L'uomo vive in due mondi
ampi, vasti, contrastanti.
Uno è dentro, l'altro fuori,
in uno vivi, nell'altro muori.

Exactly: one's life does not end on the thin surface that is the skin. Life just changes stage.

We are not alone, we are many egos.

Sadly every ego is alone. And megalomaniac.

The WHAT?!?!

The only cool thing I managed to do in the last 2 weeks is this:

I just wanted you to know that I am in a deep depressive selfconsuming creativityless state, but at least i can still do my Photoshops.

What a payoff...

The Mind's I

The mind's eye watches as failure repeats itself. And even if it's a success we are doomed repeating every step. World's a stage, a curved ball bouncing and re-bouncing as the mocking time let us play our anthropocentric vanity.

Time is the measurement of rotting.
Time is the measurement of nothing.