Finis Autem Hic

Many posts have been made here about the human disg'race. It's enough evidence to see what the human animal is cappable and made of... shit. I'm bored, sick, tired and most of all let down by this insipid species. You deserve nothing but the death that is inevitable. In short: Fuck you.

MISANTHROPIA: THE BOOK

This is a one of a kind print of MISANTHROPIA: Death, Lies, Human Folly & Personal Fetishes made in MMXII. Hardcover, 221 pages.

MISANTHROPIA Trailer 2 MMXIII

From Here To Anywhere

He ran, he thought. About escape, about confusion. He sliced his wrists twice but to no avail. He's still here, running, escaping, fatigued yet determined. He booked many flights to anywhere, yet it did nothing for him; unsatisfied and bored. He's going out tonight, again. Cause that's where it's at. TRULY where it's at. He thought of all the serial killers he read and studied about over the years on many a listless night. Just thinking, no action. About how he could be one of them. Could he? He will find out tonight...

Devil May Care

At first he blamed the devil, then he blamed god during the confession of his crime. He just sat there with a blank expression on his face. He never quite realized that that bewildered ecstasy in that maniacal frenzied attack was himself losing sight of everything. Losing grip, loss of control, he was at his end; burnt up. This cold, dark sense of loss took over, and he felt no responsibility whatsoever. Stuck within a vicious cycle that only sees death, decay and disorder he thought but one thing: The killing will not stop. Ever.

To Adjust or not to Adjust

His hands icy, his mind, cold. He sat there staring at his reflection, mirroring recent events. He was glad it ended this way. It could have gone on as it was, but then it would eventually have no meaning anymore. So he took measures into his own hands and made that change; a difference. So as not to be that boring individual who always talks about it but never acts, but actually does it. So as I said he's staring at his reflection. In the gleam of a machete smeared with the blood of someone he thought he loved. It was his conscious decision to act as he saw fit. Her bloodied corpse laying there, careless, unregretful, mourning yet free,  it's now 03:00 AM.

Certainty... Or is it un-?

The way it turned out? He didn't have a dime to spend nor anywhere to go. Those moments: black-outs, confusion, feeling alone, uncomfortable, no sense of self worth, simply distracted. He's sitting in a bathroom stall of a gas station in the middle of nowhere, thinking... So what's next...?

Thoughts Unparalleled

Once he had a theory: That Allah is a disease with a cancerous cyst called Mohammed. That God also is a disease with a cancerous cyst called Jesus. He believed religion was the reason people got cancer. Weird huh? But it was just a theory...

Note To Self

The government is a lying institution for the inept!
The police is too corrupt to protect and serve!
Religion is the grand delusion of life!
Humanity is a weed plague-ing the entire earth!
The world is not coming to an end...
You are!

Sometimes

Sometimes he would call his friend
Sometimes he would help others
Sometimes he would have the guts to ask her out
Sometimes he could care less

Sometimes he had the urge
Sometimes he thought about suicide
Sometimes he thought about killing
Sometimes it's best not to think about it
Sometimes you have to

Sometimes it's better to shut up
Sometimes it's better to scream
Sometimes he wishes he hadn't been born
Sometimes...

A Little Cut

After he raped her he took a knife and cut just a little into her neck, at which point she started puking blood. He got hard again. A little cut each time, though after the third time he raped her she was already dead. But that didn't stop him. His 'unusual' way of copulating is borne on the fact -which he himself has thought up and meted out- that all fluids must be visible during his 'mating ritual' and merge into one stream so the highest point of ecstasy can be reached. He also suffers from a brain tumor sans medication for nearly three years now.

The Violence Continues

Her words cut like a blade through his heart. Much like the blade she used to fatally stab him in the stomach in a dispute that went horribly wrong.

Pro Choice

She was pregnant with a boy. Not anymore though. It was something that was decided at first but 'discontinued' when her partner of eight years left. She grabbed a pair of scissors (that have been used for nearly anything in the house) and just started cutting into her stomach, pulled out the 7 month old fetus, cut him into pieces and threw the body parts on the floor. After that she bled to death.

The Last Straw

His wife always yelled at him. Of petty things no one gives a shit about. You'd think she made a hobby out of this behavior. So one day he had it, something snapped. He walked to the yard, picked up an axe, went to the kitchen where she was, and hacked her to pieces. He kept chopping and chopping. There was just this big pile of meat and blood everywhere. You couldn't tell it was human anymore.

Of Loss and Consequence

His mother died. It was kind of tragic because she was always caring and forgiving toward her son. He -many a time- stole money from her to buy drugs; he never paid her back, and, she knew; he lied to her as he saw fit. But without her, he is scared and can't cope with the reality of knowing she's gone. Now he's left alone with nothing to give and nothing to lose. A failure. A leech.

Substance Vs. Instability

He looked in the mirror. He saw shapes moving all around him. Paranoid and sweating he held a gun in his hand. 'Do it' he heard a voice say. He did. He took some pills earlier that evening. He wasn't a very stable person. He just turned 19.

Unfortunate

He was driving home. On his way he drove past a billboard which distracted him. He had to unexpectedly swerve to the right so as not to hit the goat that was crossing the road. In return he himself was killed in the crash. He also hit a cow and her calf that were standing on the grass before he hit a tree. They were dead too.

A Life Loan

There was a knock on the door. She opened and was greeted with a shotgun blast to the face. There were 3 kids playing in the living room; they got blown away too. Her husband had a debt he could never pay back. He was buried alive somewhere on the outskirts of town. Some advice: Don't lend from or lend to.

Don't Spend It All In One place

He got so bored with everyone. They kept talking; but that's all they ever did. Always talking, never doing. So one fine day someone was yapping some bullshit. And him being tired of it, in a fit of rage so tense yelled: "SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!!" He started shaking and convulsing. He blacked out and had a stroke. The right side of his body has no function and one eye is left blind.

Alive With Death

The thing is, he thought about death a lot. It surrounded him day and night. In the news, in his dreams. Every other week a family member died of some sort disease or heart failure. The ugly black hole no one wants to enter. The outer darkness where thought is no more. Eternal sleep. This is what he consumes, before it consumes him.