Tangier

Local Flavor

I see myself, often, submerged in the ocean's esoteric chasms. 

Under gleaming displaced light and a haze of salty foam I doze off, between thinning air and embracing darkness. I close my eyes and listen to the world churn and mumble around me in its muffled beauty, wondering if they can hear me too. Sometimes I can grasp familiar voices and forgotten words that push me deeper underwater into a world once buried in the past. Here I drift aimlessly in the midst of schools of fish and delve farther into unknown factions of my mind.

I am, however, scared of fish I might encounter swimming here. Scared that maybe I will drown or that I'll lose my way or that I'll never return to the surface... But all these fears I notice aren't true, maybe, somehow, I don't need to breathe to stay underwater, I don't need to ever see light again. Maybe one day I can become an orchid drifting in vacant spaces, enjoying every dripping moment in time, delaying death through blissful peace.

Maybe im a pelagic being. 

Condemned to the mystifying depths of the human ocean, where I find only myself and all of his reflections, pointing outwardly into infinitesimal directions. For this is how I develop, through theoretical construction, through anomalic ideation of multiple me's. I am not one, but many, oscillating and absorbing energy, shaping my troubles into clear pathways that lead to a long winding road befallen by warped oak wood and a nostalgic gust.

I walk alone on this road. Only I notice the sun dropping, time stopping, and the skies clearing for the myriad of stars to twinkle and gleam and share their illustrious visages with me. Around me I hear the world so vividly, the sound of nature pulses in the summer air like a living creature waiting to be startled. But still I shuffle forth in the shaking silence of my own solitude, inattentive at the fact that I cannot ever go back again...

I don't think about it often, but I know that there is someone waiting for me at the end of the road. Someone who see's me in mornings light, who originates from earths womb, who colors the sky deep blue and knows what to say. A she who watches me with her aged blue eyes, and doesn't place me in contempt nor distaste but in comfort and fervor. Her steps are subtle but sweeping, her voice is coarse but fluid like a thick honey milk freshly poured. And her touch transports me to the innermost sanctuary I can imagine, two pillars of marble and a door to match in coated merry white. And behind this door... a tear of emotion and beauty sheds. A certain knowingness, a revival of truth reveals itself in such lucidity that can never be seen again.

It is gone now and may never be seen again, but I will, one day, see her again.

Meta

Bedlam in Goliath

 He opens his eyes to a googloplex of specks pressing to his body, the pressure pushes him out of the disintegrating earth into the world like a newborn child from the womb. He lies their on the cool sand collecting his senses, sand spilling out of his disheveled hair.  His robes are soaked in sweat and piss and torn to shreds. And without hesitation nor second thought of where or how he is he jolts out of the desert tent into the shining day leaving nothing but unanswered questions and a trail of dust behind him.
Quickly he scans his surroundings, a couple of tents, six unattended camels, a large block of ice withering in the heat, a scorching sun soon to melt away his already decrepit clothing and an assortment of maps packed away in a small knapsack. Like electricity he collects what is needed in a frantic motion...first the maps, second a chip of ice, third a fresh set of robes (these of which he so covertly snatches in the displeasure of another's slumber) and lastly a robust camel of hump and grandeur of which he mounts and begins his journey across the endless plane of shifting sands and dessicated air.

T'was a long journey,  but with aid of maps he stole and the knowledge of the Northern Star's position he approaches his destination ever so hastily. Along the way he suffers from internal fissures and relentless fluorescent bludgeoning. His loyal camel humps and rumps every step of the way without grumble nor complaint and ever so often he feeds him the evaporating crystalline. It is only a matter of time before the sun incinerates them to the ground and just at the verge of blacking out he saw through his dust covered eyes a sign of civilization. There past a sea of vicious heatwaves stands an ancient town composed of mud brick houses.

 He arrives soon thereafter to the town and dismounts his trusty camel. He continues his journey on foot and walking past the battered houses he notices the town held an eerie silence to it that troubles him. He spots a small tavern sitting across a large statue of a man looking towards the sun; his hands blocking his face from the perpetual sunlight. This splendid effigy got the man thinking; the amount of skill and time thrust upon the statue was slowly being annulled by centuries of pressing sand and then the man understood nothing under this sun survived for much time, even that of stone and earth.

He enters the tavern ever so casually and after adjusting to the lack of light inside is greeted by a room full of half drunk taciturn men. They are cloaked and as they turn around to see who the stranger could be, scowl at the burning heat he let in.
"Close the door ya damn fool." yelps one of the drunkards. He pays no attention to this and walks up to the bar, "Greetings, two Ta Henket will do." While the bartender slowly concocts his drink he peers around the room. The tavern is small and dank, the stench of men and booze fills the sultry air. Many sit together at tables in hoods and robes looking cunning and crafty. They soon forget about the wandering man and continue their silent parle. It is the strangest sight to the stranger, how these native people speak in mute tongue. And then something bright and abrupt caught his eye; a golden amulet whose luster was that of the desert sun.

He approaches the old man wearing the amulet for he knows who he belongs to, the Hidden Dune Clan, and they hold information he seeks. With drinks in hand he sits across from the hooded figure and offers him one. The old man tilts his head towards his direction and even behind the darkness that cloaks his face the traveler could sense his disposition.
 "A mans death goes unnoticed under this sun."
 He then takes the drink and chuckles in the security of his shade,
"What is it you come for, speak quickly."
"I seek the whereabouts of the Relinquished Library."
The old man snickers and then quickly in a serious tone said,"I hold this information and will pass it unto thee but what will you offer me in return?"
"I will grant you Sage also what you seek, knowledge."
And then the old man digs his nails deep in the table and whispers in a menacing tone "Fool, I am all knowing and omnipotent; what knowledge could you possibly have that I do not?"
"I hold words lost in the heat of the morning desert sun, faces spat away in the great blood river, thunder hidden among maps and compasses. I hold a purpose that I must carry out."
"Tell me, young seer, tell me your name."
"Jinn."

At that second the Sage tenses up and begins whispering words of an indiscernible language in quick succession. The tavern lights dim, the undertow of men conversating flushes away and his focus upon the sapient old man increases. He then notices the dark veil that obscured the sage soon dissipated and behind was an ancient visage that has seen the world twofold and suddenly he could hear him in his head...
"Two days to walk,
two nights to scry,
your third eye the hawk,
will guide you by.

Remember the path,
it is hidden but seen,
do not look to far,
past the ravine."

The moment passes ever so quickly and soon enough he is back in the dank tavern but this time he is sitting alone. He walks up to the bartender and orders in a new found certainty,"Let me have two water skins and two loafs of bread." The bartender looks at him inquisitively and then softens his expression,"It's a journey then aye?"
"Indeed."

And like snakes slithering in sand he slips out of the tavern into the cool night. He looks upwards into the night sky and begins following the Northern Star. He soon is out of the town and back in the sea of churning earth. He walks and walks....until the sun draws from the horizon...until the moon steals the sky.
A day has gone by and he has yet to find the library. He sleeps horrible nights under cold intensity, enough only to regain his strength for another day in the blistering heat. The next day soaring high above him is a brown hawk with large talons, was it the one mentioned in the Sage's wise words? The bird does not change direction, it must be.
The sun slowly makes its way from one end of the world to the other and in between that precious time Jinn struggles to stay on his feet, but he is strong and holds a steady pace. The environment takes a toll on his body leaving his exposed skin to suffer from light burning and his entire body to exhaustion and exasperation.
Dusk slowly approaches and a milky blood red sun bathes the desert terrain. Jinn continues his search with no luck, has the Sage duped him, is he to die unnoticed? He pushes these thoughts away and focuses on the path in front of him. But suddenly he slips down a steep hill so narrow he hadn't seen it prior. He is sliding down the hill and just when he is about to reach the bottom a trapdoor reveals itself under the sand and he slips right past it into the lurking shadows. These tunnels were just big enough to hold a man and stretch for miles for it took Jinn much time to exit them.

He soon arrives to a room full of darkness and set his torch ablaze. Surrounding him are rows and rows of bookshelves filled with ancient books stacked up in what seemed to be a ceiling-less space. The desert was slowly making its way into the library through small cracks and splits in the walls.
"This library holds humanities primeval thoughts and conceptions.
I will be the only man alive who will know fully my ancestors lexicon."

After eating the last of the food he has left Jinn drifts through the aisles looking for the archaic tome of his people. Finally after hours wandering through this maze he finds a large book in a display case. It's cover is made of leather and the pages are thick and yellow. The title translates to "Son of Ra".

Jinn marvels at the book of bountiful knowledge and in a greedy state says,
"Finally the knowledge that will propel me past my contemporaries, to be the last reader of this book is my destiny."

He then ever so carefully props open the glass case but to his dismay the dry air snatch's away his fortune and reduces it to dust.
He stands there in such a state of deception and astonishment that he drops the torch and lets it roll near the shelves. And suddenly out of the darkness the looming voice of the old Sage booms overhead,

"Fool! You were never worthy of such wisdom! You showed this through your own selfish actions. Pathetic human, you are not a seer, now I condemn thee here forever to dwell in anguish."

Jinn grabbed a hand full of the dust in the display case and cried in the air, tears flowing down his face,"NO! This cannot be! How...how can it be..."And slowly around him bursts of fire began emerging, licking away at the books long kept pages.There is nothing else he has to live to for, nothing else to persevere for. Soon the whole library is afire...

"Take me away flames of malediction, take what is yours God, for I have failed."

Gaza

I Don't Care Where I Go When I Die

Filth, scum, swarming under the sun. 

Future lost in a chaotic reprise, 

you know nothing,

fucking die.

My eyes linger in rage, 

my touch warps

in magnificent torpor,

in craving,

in malignance,

a human,

with no significance. 

Steal me creator, 

for I am collapsed and vapid,

tormentors of this world,
 consuming rapid.

Smart man smart man

show me your ego,

show me your veins,

grasp what I inherited,

console in my pain.

Tell me about the truth, 

you so undoubtedly know,

tell me that I am condemned,

to my own status quo.

Teach me the right way,

you menacing fuck,

I know nothing, 

Im all out of luck.

I am here to compete,

we are here to defeat,

one another,

in apathetic deceit,

you're not my family,

flee.

Life revels in death

from which moralities shift,

inexorable violence

kill me quick,

 we are never ending,

endless shit.

Slut

Blasphemaster
Blasphemy upheld, master of hell, vanquish the light with a wicked spell, condemn them all to where I dwell.

On a small island amid the Meridian a village of few live in the wake of a treacherous volcano.
  Centuries ago when the island once belonged to the earth the volcano erupted with a ferocity that incinerated everything within its radius. Devastated from shock waves the earth crumbled away leaving the volcano and its few remnants to float across the sea. Thus the name of the volcano and its people became "Sulfurs Shade(s)".

Nowadays, however the little village prospers, its tenant's inhabiting every inch of the island. Generations have passed since the eruption and the volcano is now thought to be dormant. 

But one day the clouds above grew morbid and dark, the sea restless and the stench of sulfur filled every home. The people soon began to worry and sent the strongest of them up the volcano. Midway up the men could feel fierce waves of heat pulsating through layers of thick molten rock.There was no doubt the volcano had awoken from its century old slumber to once again repeat history.

The men scurried down the mountain as fast as they could but before they reached the village to alert them it was too late. The earth beneath then began rumbling and quaking, the sound of rocks collapsing and breaking away filled the smoky air. Magma soon started spilling through small crevices; slowly making its way to the village. The people saw this and with their leaders already eroded were left with nothing but fear and terror to haunt their minds.

Many attempted to escape via sea craft but the sea in a frenzied anger forbade them. And so there they sat in plumes of ash, in a darkened state of mind and being, waiting to be submerged in the ever burning flames of Sulfur's Shade. Cursed they were, foolish more so, to let the same event pass twice. But if anything stood true, it was that they melted away in an aquatic hell.

Nocturnal

Noctourniquet

 The Mars Volta entertain with a mature, complex record that will leave the listener in a dazed wonderment.


Even under closed eye visuals I could see it all.
 

I awoke to damp sheets and a sick rain knocking at my window. I unclenched my fists from the bed sheets and took a second to catch my breath. I put my glasses on and ignited the lamp. Strangely enough a gray thick light oozed from the fire. Distressed by this I opened the window to release my doubts. I was greeted by a gust of freezing rain that licked at my clammy skin. And hiding behind a school of clouds, directly above the rigid stone town I had known for many years was a black sun.

I staggered back unable to discern what I had just seen. I raced out the room, down the steps and into my basement. I let out a sigh of relief to see my laboratory as I had left it. All of my vials were in the right position, selected experimental solutes were being processed and my books were scattered as before.
 However, I noticed the same anomaly from the lamp occur with my bubbling mixtures and distilled compounds.  They were illuminating shades of gray and black. I tried pushing this surreal reality out of my head with the aid of my beloved books. But the more I leafed through them the less of a grip on reality I held. Somehow all my work had been transcribed into gibberish. Welt up in confusion and rage I flipped through my entire collection only to meet the same result.
None of this could be true, I must be dreaming. I slapped and pinched myself a couple of times but nothing happened. I could feel my stomach churning and my fingers tensing up, I was undoubtedly awake.
And so I burst out of my house into a nocturnal world. I observed my surroundings in search of something peculiar like the black sun. But everything seemed normal, my neighbors lawn was unkempt as usual, the sidewalk leading to my house was still corroded and the column of elm trees that stood at the foot of the street were still leafless.

And suddenly, as if it appeared out of thin air, I saw it.
Past the scenery in the negative spaces of everything, a subtle displacement of the earth.

In such confusion I couldn't even put together a concrete question towards what I was witnessing. It was as if god himself had beset blasphemy upon my me.  Bound by arduous amounts of stress I wandered into the stone town.
 As I arrived to the main street I noticed it was as lifeless as the morbid moon hanging above me. I walked on the cobblestone street, the constant click clacking, echoing my presence. I looked in the small stores along each side of the road but no soul was insight. Instead colonies of cobwebs and dust had conquered the vacant space. Past the main street a cathedral centuries old stood erect in the blank illumination of the void above. This magnificent monolith carved of limestone and mortar was a testament towards my undying yearning for the truth behind these anomalies.

It had been years since I had entered a cathedral. In fact, I had almost forgotten how majestic such buildings were. From the perfectly smooth arches, hand-crafted gargoyles, to the ornate stained window glass and bountiful flying buttresses. This cathedral held an ethereal aura to it that felt different from any other place in this nocturnal world or for that matter the real world.

I sat at one of the pews and after an exhausting couple hours, let the halcyon setting consume me. At that moment when I had let go of worriment and stress I felt something exhale from the room. I opened my eyes quickly as if to catch the escaping gas before it was too late. But instead I found that the cathedral began to decrease in size. Slowly the large wooden doors began shrinking and the wide Gothic vault fell closer and closer towards the ground. Jesus was on the cross and seemed to be the only thing aside from myself to retain its original size.

At this point I didn't run from what seemed certain death. There was nothing for me in this blackened world, nothing but unanswered questions and unsettling discoveries. Soon after, everything began crashing into itself. What took decades to create soon began to crumble away in seconds. Such beautiful architecture and design untouched by time deteriorated in front of me. Large blocks of limestone came crashing down; smashing pews and altars next to me. The stained glass windows cracked away and large pillars came tumbling down. Finally I saw it falling down, another block of stone that would finish me.
And in that small amount of time I had left in my life, everything slowed down...
Like a perfectly patterned puzzle of missing people and places, I could peer into the past and approach what seemed a pleasant peril.
I could see it all.

Prairie

Apocalypse
Bill offers more than just a tranquil American-Folk album but a witty truth stitched in every song.

Dusk approaches and still the gentle warmth of the sun brushes at my skin. As I stroll along the billowing hills I run my fingers across the waves of wheat. And subtly, like a faint whisper, I sense my past generations deep in the damp dirt. 

Just at the edge of the field I see my father cutting wood. Slowly, night crawls up his wrinkled pants, up his cracked fingers, up his heavy arched back and finally up his sweating brow. Adjacent to him smoke plumes out of the cabin chimney and through the window I can see my mother brushing my sister's silky hair.

The prairie wind whips at my dress like a whip on a horses back.

My father collects the firewood and heads to our cabin. He looks my way, our eyes meet and for a second we stand there, staring at each other. But nothing was said and he closed the door behind him.

I see my my family sitting down for dinner and in my mothers soft melodic voice and my fathers coarse firm touch I feign my pain doesn't exist. For the truth of my families future is withering away in the wake of a toxic world.

But for my three and the rest before I, I walk down to the simple cabin and behind it I stand before my grandfathers tomb and his own and my mother's mother. Carved in stone are their names and their passing and their legacy. Time hasn't take them away yet..

But like a quick zap of lightning my life was taken, taken away, from you, from before, once ago, once more.

Alien

Outer Isolation
Vektor accelerate past our galaxy with other-worldly riffs and galactic screeches that'll induce even the most voracious of aliens to thrash and headbang.

Space runs far and deep...across echoes of lifetimes and windows of mystification. Infinitesimal amounts of energy seep in and out of higher dimensions, finally returning to us in the form of light. 

This is how I awoke, by the boundless force of luminance. 

A thick layer of sweat hung unto my body and a sharp pain rose up my neck. As I reached to wipe my dripping face I realized I was still in a spacesuit. Above me the vast sky looked clearer then I'd ever seen it before. Schools of spectral stars and orbs of pulsing red fire decorated the nebular canvas. But in the midst of such a euphoric state a harsh reality caused stark shivers to quilt and quiver down my spine.

I wasn't in the Milky Way.

And so I arose to a bleak and barren world composed of jagged rock and floating asteroids. Hovering above me in the atmosphere was a colossal structure far more complex than any technology i'd ever seen. Its outer core seemed to be fabricated out of a robust shiny metal that allowed the ship to effortlessly move across space. It's shape was similar to a leaf; slender and agile which reduced its surface area from outward attacks. Its backside was aligned with boosters and its front with ultramodern lasers. At that moment I knew the only to get back to Earth was to board that spacecraft. And without further hesitation I leaped and hopped across the deserted terrain in search of something I wasn't sure of yet.
The landscape was riddled with fissures; ranging from small slits to enormous gaps that stretched for miles. Luckily zero gravity allowed me to fly across them to other districts of the unknown planet.  It seemed like hours had passed and slowly but surely my body was giving in to the radical topography. One thing I hadn't noticed until now was that there was an increase in pressure and it felt as if any minute I would burst out of my suit. I soon became savage and delirious, burdened by these unknown pressures and lack of water I maniacally roamed the astral terrain. But by the miracle of god I scoped something in the corner of my eye. It was small and had similar characteristics to the spacecraft suspended above me. I galloped towards the mysterious object inattentive of the possible dangers that may lie ahead. As I approached the construct I noticed a myriad of particles floating in the middle of it ranging from all colors of the spectrum. It stood at 7 feet in height and it had an uncanny aura to it. Could it be a teleporter? I ground my teeth at the thought of what would happen if I stepped in but I had no other options.
 With all the courage I could muster I dived into the particles headfirst.
Before I could conceptualize what was happening I had arrived. The teleporter had spat me out in a tenebrous green chamber filled with shapes and objects unfamiliar to my human eye. After further analysis I realized I was in a storage room filled with eerie gadgets and contraptions. I found what seemed to be stairs and from the size of the steps I could guess the stature of the extraterrestrial beings. They where small and slim and seemed to have multiple limbs. A sticky glop oozed down the steps which had a thick pungent smell to it. I continued up the spiral stairs as silently as I could until I found my self in a large hallway that led to a main control room. The sound of machinery and gears shifting could be heard across the hall. I tip-toed to the edge of the entrance and peeked into the room. A sleek thick transparent wall sat in front of the command center allowing the outer space to be seen. And in front of the command centers where small dark green beings that left me so astounded by their bizarre nature I nearly slipped on the slimy glop that layered the floor.

I counted eight of these creatures,they were all facing the glass wall and seemed too busy attending to the ship to notice me.  I had no idea what these beings were capable of; surely they were small but their intellect was far superior then my own. However I had one thing they didn't, the element of surprise and if I played my cards right I might have the opportunity to turn this ship around and head back to Earth.
After further thought I took a step into the room.
Suddenly everything grew gravely quiet. The monitors stopped beeping, the buzzing machinery sat still and the bobbing heads of the viscous aliens turned to face me. I froze on the spot like a frightened deer and before anything else could occur a white beam of light enveloped me.


Little did the man know that all of his actions where being monitored since his awakening. The twisted aliens where simply toying with him; seeing how far he would go until he succumbed. They did not expect him to get as far as he did and while they did respect his perseverance they could not allow the game to continue any further.  And so at the expense of none he was vaporized into thin air.

Moon

Demo I

A quick fix of unrelenting BM.

Raw Moon is a relatively new band, this being their first and only release. It clocks at around 8 minutes but what it lacks in length is made up for in ferocity. Armed with teeth cracking production and a howling banshee for a vocalist Raw Moon will blister even the most seasoned of ears. There isn't too much to say about this, only that its a raw black metal demo worth the download. 

Peril

Fatal Peril
Twin Peril satisfy Blaq Masq's superb beats with up to par viper-like lyrical execution.

It's midnight and a torpid cloud of darkness looms over the castle town. A soothing wind pushes past the surrounding forest and settles within the city walls. In the tall grass I lie prone waiting,listening. And in an instant like a possessed shade I dart across the field and climb up the stone wall. None of the guards notice as I subtly eliminate them one by one, leaving their corpses to decay in a shadowy corner. My footsteps are indiscernible, my body cloaked in hues of gray and black, my movements vaporous.
Above dimly lit houses I leap with the fresh scent of blood wafting behind me and with nimble precision I slither into the Feudal Lord's quarters. Even if he is was to awake from his slumber he wouldn't be able to distinguish me from the ever-shifting shadows. And so I stand there cloaked, staring at my enemy in a state of callous satisfaction. How pleasant it must feel in his dream; to be blissfully at peace even on the verge of his death. And with an articulate stroke I swipe him clean of his voice and leave him sprawling on the floor, blood gushing from his neck. Then, without sound nor scruple I vanish like smoke into the forest wind.

III

III

Darkspace's affect is parallel to the vacuuming force of the ever-expanding universe.

It is true that when one broadens their horizon what was once significant slowly diminishes across space. To float in the endless abyss of a chaotic dimension unsure of the past,present or future will corrupt any human distinction. And from this seed of darkness and pressure new perspectives surface. A bleak but omnipotent perspective that under the scope of human intellect will evaporate vapid thoughts. Lay way to the universal truth in form of a blanketing shade and from Earth's tomb exhume what is left...

Torn from the sighs of imploding stars and crashing asteroids a small crystal of clarity is formed. From it a question can be answered truthfully and of it an ineffable amount of energy was exhausted.  For clarity in a chaotic universe is but a blissful fantasy brought upon by a narrow human perspective.

Chain

Across Great Landscapes to a Legacy of Blood

This here is some superb USBM carved in the backwoods of the US and varnished with a thick angry buzzing production. 

In a cabin under the fog of a blanked out sun lies a trapdoor. Beneath it a dimly lit hallway constructed of cobblestone and plywood stretches deeper and deeper towards other untouched corridors. The hallways narrow the further one goes in the maze of untouched doors. Under the luminance of fire one can point out arcane symbols and writings etched into said doors and in the instance of walking past them a frigid aura exhales from the rotting elm wood. At the end of the hallway there is one door that is unique to all others. It stands tall and skeletal in its ebony wood aegis and as if untouched by time, shows no sign of deterioration. Its stiles are slender and made of jagged rock; curving towards the center of the door. The lock is coated in cobwebs and from the looks of it, hasn't been turned in centures. I take out the key which has been passed down my line of family for generations and with the utmost caution I insert and turn it. The door after all this time of inactivity, spits it's accumulated dust in my face and after a few coughs I pull the heavy door back. There was already a light in the room before I entered, it was so miniscule and spectral that it didn't come from anywhere, it was just...there. And in the middle of the room along of the lines of a pentagram there was one man...Torturer.

First Post

Whats up anybody unlucky enough to straggle upon my incomplete blogspot. 'Tis my first attempt at such and I will mostly be posting music, namely underground shit that may range from jazz-fusion to low-fi black metal. While the genres may vary it is for certain faggotry in the shape of art and music shall be boldly forbidden.