`darklylit

Is a figment of your Imagination

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Enjoy The Silence

Journal Entry: Tue Aug 14, 2007, 12:51 PM

In print

Reject; Reprise

In Breed

Inject; Indict

Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Cant you understand
Oh my little girl

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Enjoy the silence

Repent; Revise

11 Comments

Mood: Noble
Listening to: Nothing
Reading: Everything
Watching: Perfume
Playing: You
Eating: Her

Where's my CSS?!

Journal Entry: Sun May 20, 2007, 5:57 PM

CSS damnit!

Come on, people!
I'm giving away years subscriptions! what more do you want? a dinner date and an oiled massage?

Make me some CSS?
please? pretty please?

I don't know what I want.
I don't care what I get.
I want something pretty.
A little less faded, and a lot more me.

You don't know who I am?
Wonderful!
Because I don't exist.
And now is your chance to take part in the creation of the essence which is me. all through a simple journal CSS design.

I truly appreciate and thank you few people who have sent in a couple designs. but I do want a little more input and variety.

I am therefor 'extending' my call for said entries another month or so.

So please, by all means:
Think me, Design me, & Note me!
I'll make it worth your while.

What am I thinking?

On a similar and associated note, I'd like to continue my last journal's question as to just what you think i think.

Some people answer that they have no idea who i am. I thought to reply to this; I have no idea who I am either. In fact, it has been my stipulation for some time now that I don't really exist, and that Descarte didn't really take himself too seriously.

I do, however, have quite a great many opinions and convictions. some are quite solid, others somewhat flaccid. I am a man of principle. Or not. Whichever is more convenient. And the wonderful part of it is how much easier it is to throw convictions a man's way when you have literally no idea what they really are.

I wouldn't be asking you what I believe in, had I heralded my moral flags, political stamps and voting resume. Those are precisely what I'd have you assume, blindly, or educated, based on my obvious decorum. I can promise to return the favor.

So tell me!
What kind of person am I?
What are my ideals?
What are my principles?
Where do I stand politically?
What do I believe?

OR alternately, would you like to tell all about you?

Reviewing Paradise Lost

Having returned from seeing Paradise Lost with *TwoEyes, I had drank my fill, popped my ears and smelled like stage smoke. It was quite lovely, in an ohso sentimental way.

But it was also sadly demystifying and mediocre. The band came on 2 hours late, the sound was rough and unbalanced, and their recent material sounded like metallica.

I suppose you can't have everything back from the 90's just the way you remember it.

Still, seeing the main works from Gothic played live was more than worth it. They are, after all, one of those bands that remind me of waiting for sunrise in an open field with a cheap bottle in hand, in the company of unconditional friends, nothing in the world troubling us, save our teenage angst.

Now beckons the question: were those times really so romantic and magical? Fortunately - nothing could ever make it otherwise.

I'd like to thank absolutely everyone for absolutely everything.

P.s.
Recommendation: See the movie Perfume. If you don't like it, forget about having my babies!

51 Comments

Mood: High
Listening to: Clint Mansel
Reading: Psychoanalytic Jurisprudence
Watching: Perfume

Finding Paradise Lost

Journal Entry: Thu May 3, 2007, 5:02 AM

Paradise Lost!

Talk about a blast from the past!
Paradise Lost are coming to Israel for one show in the Barbi club next Saturday (12.5)!

*TwoEyes went to pick up a couple tickets for us at Velvet's Goth Fashion. On his way back from work, with his slick black formal jacket, he was greeted by a crowd of smeared lipstick, punk-metal-goth kids who worked/hung out there, all smacked with confused stares, mouths gaping, as he joyfully asked for 2 for Paradise.

"What?!" countered a bemused *TwoEyes.
"I was once 15 too, you know!!"

So! who's with us?!

What am I thinking?

In light of a couple reactions to my recent Webcam shot, I was delighted to hear that some actually gathered I am a communist, or extreme socialist at the very least.

It has therefor occurred to me to ask you all:
What do YOU think I believe in?
What kind of person am I?
What are my ideals?
What are my principles?
Where do I stand politically?
by all means, do tell! What do you think?

Who am I?

I want new CSS!

I've decided I need something a bit less faded, and a lot more me. I haven't a clue as to how to make my own, and I'd like to keep it that way. I am however, prepared to offer a Year's subscription to whoever designs my next journal's CSS, not to mention my undying love and gratitude, as far as undead things go these days. Entries should be made, say - by the end of May.

I'd like to thank absolutely everyone for absolutely everything.

36 Comments

Mood: High
Listening to: The Pink Panther
Reading: Psychoanalytic Jurisprudence
Watching: Being There

Anthology of Me

Journal Entry: Wed Nov 1, 2006, 9:45 AM

Thus spoke darklylit

Vein, O Vein, My how lovely you are
Dripping and spraying shapes so bizarre
- Old school notebook

Some 150 years ago, a one Charles Baudelaire decisively concluded his passionate hatred of photography; for its scientific impression of reality, lacking any and all imagination; Realism being a - "disgusting insult thrown into the face of all analysts"

Diplomatically, he later on conceded to award the medium a supporting role, given proper castration;"If photography is allowed to supplement art in some of its functions, it will soon have supplanted or corrupted it altogether... its true duty…is to be the servant of the sciences and arts - but the very humble servant, like printing or shorthand, which have neither created nor supplemented literature... "

It was, after all, nearly a hundred years before the Little Prince had his Sheep drawn.

So we're here.
And around us is a cabaret that defines Art; a medium of classes, a Tool to a means, an excuse for a vote.
Nearing bottoms of bottles in murky moods are where our expressions still lie, untouched and fathomed cancers, tended quietly.

When the smoke Cleared, and they saw your face, Did you then, Have something to say?

Yesterday, I felt like a fly.
The very same day, I was a God.
The beauty of insignificance is the freedom it proposes.
Reasons, heavens, Gods and Gasoline.
Now where was it we thought we mattered?

If everything didn't stink of piss, We wouldn't have to perpetually perfume ourselves.
If people weren't so unsure and deceptive, There would be no more games, no tensions, no pretensions.
If this world wasn't so ugly, Beauty wouldn't be so hard-sought.
If I hadn't loved it so much, I might have wanted something to change.

Creation is a matter of thought, And the result being, oh so absolutely useless, It is something of a liberation, is it not? In the same breathe of condemning our lives to be pointless and misled to actually mean anything, just what then should I be obliged to, regardless of my unguided, meaningless will?
Nothing. Absolutely Nothing.

If Art weren't useless, and there was a God, You'd think he'd find a use of us.

Jests for the Melancholy

All Art is Useless.

I found them blind
I taught them how to see
And now they know
neither themselves nor me
Tis excellent to turn a thorn to a pin
A Fool to a bolt
A knave to a glass of gin

The only difference between saints and sinners is that every saint has a past while every sinner has a future.

Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn & every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to Endless night

Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most.

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.

I'd like to thank absolutely everyone for absolutely everything.

21 Comments

Mood: Contempt
Listening to: La Jetee

Turning a page. An Open invitation.

Fri Sep 8, 2006, 9:42 AM

All Art is Useless.

~

Having just about reached a boiling point in mundane life, as hecticly mundane as humanly possible, I write this journal on a stop along the road near Berlin, where the keyboards are somewhat fucked up enough to make it interesting. I'll never get the logic behind switching the Z with the Y.

Contemporary Sleepless Nights:
No longer am i bothered with papers, exams and daily deadlines. First year of lawschool completed, with nifty grades and more to come. But as of now, My nights are sleepless, not for study and cramming sessions, but for endless nightly excursions from city to city, filled with drink and the kindness of strangers.

Vacation:
I'm off. Unavailable and away. Berlin at the moment, anywhere from holland to austria till October.
Herein Lies the invitation: Want to meet me? house me? rob me? have a drink and forget about me? If you're anywhere in the Germany or Holland, or anywhere else not to far off, and have something to offer - by all means note me. I am currently traveling with a friend, and at some point will be parting off to wander on alone. And I do so love unexpected adventure.

Looking for a Flat?
Ever sat around and suddenly realized that the one thing that would make you ohso complete – is to rent a cheap apartment in downtown Haifa? Seriously though, if you're looking to rent a nice studio apartment near haifa central train station – note me. Did I mention the landlord's this awesome guy…?