Snow

freedom

The weather remains fine in our everyday lives, yet many of us cannot escape the grey overcast in day-to-day society. Like moulded clay objects we move from place to place mindlessly operating under this perhaps ‘programmed’ lifestyle where material wealth and social image is number one.
How many believe or ever wonder from time to time about the possibility that there is more to life than our bank account balance?
In this interesting society with a vast range of opportunities, why is it so common to follow this ‘dream’ of financial freedom? Why not mental and soulful freedom?
With these many paths we walk, which is your path? Following your heart, doing what you really want and always wanted? Is that not living life?
Within all these questions and no answers, why are the questions still asked? In us lies the only answer, for the answer is unique for each individual.
Will you walk the flat footpath like so many others? Or follow your own path, climb your own mountain? The road may be rough but once reaching the top, the view is indescribably magnificent.

.

oil

It does seem inevitable that the world is going to shit more than it already has.
If nature doesn’t completely obliterate us homo-sapiens, then it seems that we will drown ourselves in bloodshed and mayhem when everything starts to fall apart,
or when we run out of the grotesque black gold and our materialistic ways of life crack and implode into nothing more than a crumb of molded cheese on a burnt paper plate.
Fuck the economy side ways. We’ve got to learn to live before it’s too late to save the sand paper we will be wiping our crusted arses with when extinction becomes all too real in our bloodshot dreams.
Maybe I’m a hippy, but its all about the love, The world is running on an empty tank and fuel is only getting more expensive.
When it all comes to the end… are we really going be thinking about how much money we fucking had?
…slaughter me a kitten and call me the kid from Nazareth, cos I have lost all hope in this surreal wasteland.

.

mother, brother, murderer

This undue self regard of the common cunt pains me like a black tooth sodomizing my warm gums. I wonder sometimes, whether I’m the only one who feels it, the only one who looks around and realizes that the current state of the world is much like that of a sinking ship, or a dieing calf, with no hope of recovery where only the maggots survive. Fuck it; does anyone else feel anything at all?

Maybe I’m too caught up in my own disgust for this foul stench that fills my every breath as soon as I open my scabbing cracked lips. The constant dribble of feces that pours out of the media and from the ‘leaders of great nations’ does nothing to appease my mind, but simply adds to the filth and squalor already plaguing this world.

I pray that comet did come crashing unforgivingly like a black hearted falling angel, to end the misery for us.

Ah yes, this sweet misery we call ‘human life’. I’m not a true nihilist. Foolishly I still have this false hope that things may improve. But this sinister temptation grows daily, slithering through my diseased mind, the temptation to stop the battle for sanity and let the vast nothingness devour my once innocent soul. Ha, innocent? If there even is such a thing.

Do you ever ponder a way-ward thought as to why that hope in your heart exists? And if you could eventually, after crashing at every turn, convince yourself that it was really there? Would that lie aid your precious slumber at night?

It’s like fighting a holocaust of deception with armour your weak stumps can hardly bear, with a broken sword you can’t wield, against a weightless yet invincible enemy conceived in the black depths of your torn heart, born in your deliciously grotesque mind, fed by the repugnant wrath of your imagination. Is all the anguish and despair worth it in the end, when your coffin is lowered in to the once beautiful Earth that our brethren have beaten and raped, when your bones sleep with the soil, was it worth it?

My friend, when your hands are around my neck, crushing the pipes that are sustaining my futile life, one thought will bring a smile to this fading soul. The thought of this beautiful planet being rid of the two-legged virus that it once called its children. Those children that grew in magnificent splendor, shining brightly over the mountains, sparking hope into the darkest depth of the great ocean, only to fall to the demise of their insatiable greed and vaulting ego.

Now, it’s only a matter of time.

Snow

Eranthos Beretta

West Footscray, Australia

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Artist's Description

I piece of writing I did back in year 12 using three short journal entries to show a progressive decline in state of mind.

Artwork Comments

  • Lisa  Jewell
  • bellmusker
  • Eranthos Beretta
  • msdebbie
  • homeartist
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