Posted in Paradox Society on November 10, 2011 by fakedrake

A flash!

And then nothing.


complete blackness.

And silence.

Is this it?

Is this what I was promised?

Is this void the bliss I was looking for?

I can see nothing and yet it is the clearest i have seen…

I look down on them now.

And so what?

What is there to be gained?

Joy and bliss?

I would only laugh at it now.

But it is too late.

And there is no turning back.

All that I would wish and long and hate and crave and regret… now lies before me as nothing.

What a waste.

and yet…

I would do it all again…

and again…

and again…

That is all I would ask for.

But who can grant such a thing?

And I…

have no soul to sell…

Tread softly…

Posted in Paradox Society on August 21, 2009 by fakedrake

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams

~Lady of Shalott – William Holman Hunt

The laundry

Posted in Paradox Society on August 11, 2009 by fakedrake

“I wonder why we dont feed them to the pigs… Absenth said he had an uncle who owned a ranch. Then we wouldnt have to bury them in th yard”

I remember these words as if it was yesterday that I had to bury the remains of them in the back yard and wouldnt stop whining about it. Beside the pleasure thet mumbling to thyself brings it was more unpleasant than it sounds. Not only the horrid smell but also the weight of the bag. Although most of the blood was now down the sink there were practically 3 people in that bag… mabye a limb or two more. And with Absenths “holy potion’s” effect fading I felt weaker and weaker. I just hoped the bag would hold. I would hate someone noticing the extra filth on the rotten stairway of the barely standing block of flats we and other lowlifes called home…

Gasping and sweating I reached the end of the stairs. Well at least the extasy of their salvation was worth my try, both mine and theirs. Now the hard part. The rusty shovel was lying on the ground. If you looked closely you might notice small pieces of long rotten flesh on it. It wasnt used only for digging as it turns out. Who cares… Anyone who reached the point of coming to this part of town is doomed anyway, they wont be missed too. The digging part was easier than i thought and with the night’s breeze on my shoulders, it was pleasant actually…

The scream from upstairs interrupted my thoughts. I guess little veronica, Absenths victim has waken up, and most probably discovered how my dear friend relieved her of her beauty and some of her abuilities of course. Its always nice to watch him at work…such passion. And even better to see the result. You barely feel they are humen anymore. The funny part is that most of the time they dont even feel a thing… until morphene and the other repressives ware off that is. I sometimes envy his work. Mostly that woman he kept alive and conscious while he cut off her limbs and burned her eyes, ears and nostrils. It was spectacular until he tried to lobotomize her. He said it would cause the “pain of pains”(nice names he comes up with by the way) but after 3 hours of work with the screw driver on her scull she just died. He said his drugs faded and she bled to death but i think he just fucked up with the lobotomy. It wont matter now though. She is in the bag in little pieces anyway. Now that i think of it Absenths idea of melting the bodies in the bathtub with nitric oxide might be better than the yard burial.

Maybe we ll try it next time.

..The Family Home…

Posted in Paradox Society on May 28, 2009 by fakedrake

It is interesting to watch someone die. It’s almost as good as experiencing the near life experience yourself, if you know what i mean. Now since you are reading this, you probably don’t but whatever, this is not for you to read anyway.

As usual Absnth, or however he would call himself, was in the living room with many bottles in front of him and a respectable pile of “magic dust” as he would call it. We both knew it’s still coke. Masturbation. Maybe a bit more exciting, but in the same category as furious masturbation nontheless. Almost as petty as self development… not really my business to judge on the subject.

The room was dusty and the only light that came from Absenth’s red candles combined with Tibets voice coming from the vinyl player on the only actual piece of furniture in the room would make the perfect atmosphere as always.

“Some were born
In fields of mourning
Some were ripped
In fields of rape”

The windows were boarded, the walls were cracked and the ceiling leaked. Nothing you wouldnt expect from an old abandoned building in this part of town. This was for us what you would call home. We didnt give names to such things. Any condition is temporary, everything evolves, and so nothing deserved such a name. But this room. This was the lair of purity. And my purification for today was tied up in the corner.

She was waking up from her “sleep” Absenth had put her in with his “alchemies” and wasnt yet able to determine where she was or why. I could wait. I had all the time in the world, and so did my tools hanging on the wall just above her. They were no really my tools. They were everyones tools. However i was the only one to use them. Because Absenth was too afraid of getting dirty and Angelina preferred to use more… loco-motive tools. Hammers and knives werent really her thing. He preferred to watch the flesh to be hacked from the distnce. That chick…where is the joy in watching? At least she cooked well. The beef(or whatever she would put in that casserole) yesterday was something else… I wonder if Absenth fuced her too… I should ask him, she is almost better than the purification…

I am loosing my focus again. Mabye it’s the candles…

The girl in the corner shouldnt be more than 16. Not that age matters, but this one was a piece of art i would be more than glad to destroy.

“Hello” I said walking towards her. “You might be wondering…why you are here”. I was hardly keeping my ecstasy but I had to explain first. Noone understands, they all think i am there to merely to kill them. I guess they thought i just liked. Well i did, and i still do, but that is not the point.

“You thought you lived a life in porsperity” i said almosth laughing “but what you experience until now is not real happiness, its slavery, slavery to matter and especially your material body”. She seemed horrified but i know, deep below, they all understand and they all thank me now from down there… I guess the smell of rotten flesh and the sight of dried  blood on the floor didnt fit very well with her marketing-fucked brain. She ll get over it. “i will release you from your material prison and give you perfection. It will last two seconds, just enough time for a last heartbeat but even that is already too much to ask when it comes to real, pure perfection”.

She started sceaming. I knew she wouldnt understand but as i said, i had to try. It didnt matter now anyway. As i said she will thank me with all her withered heart once she is on the other side…

The Crack of Doom

Posted in Paradox Society, Project #1, Saints with tags on March 1, 2009 by Malzan

(From the personal log of Absinth)

It’s all very ironic when seen on an empty stomach. I threw away the half eaten sandwich and moved on. The mall, is a very, very fucking annoying place to be. Barbie girls shopping Barbie clothes – and oh for God’s sake, I thought that the 80’s were long gone – and fat, tired fathers in sweat-stained shirt and tie, following the bewildered family of three, a woman with ridiculously overwhelming make up and a screaming child, hopping before a vitrine.

So you see, Legend was a fucking genius. In insisting that there is a reason other than sheer stupidity to visit the stunt-scene (which the cops will very inelegantly characterize a ‘crime-scene’), before and after, he made sure that we would never feel the slightest of regrets. Why, you ask? Well…. HAVE YOU LOOKED AROUND???

The point today, was simple. At least from my point of view… I knew there was at least one other, somewhere around, but as always this made no difference – making everything exactly as it should be; All about me. Me, me, me and ME. And not me at the same time. I was allowed to live my own personal scene, the scene where I was the protagonist (unlike the lives YOU lead), but at the same time interacting with my environment and acknowledging its importance in making my experience unique (unlike the way YOU live your everyday lives).

To elaborate? The speakers will start playing ‘the Crack of Doom’ at 2:00 p.m. – 10 seconds before the detonation.
And so your life’s been a success

First… the fashion shops

And you have pleasure in excess
Don’t worry it will all end soon
The crack of doom is coming soon

And so your future’s looking bright
And you’ve reached the giddy heights
Don’t worry it will soon end
It is all shallow and pretend

Then the fountains in the central hall…

The crack of doom
Is coming soon
The crack of doom
Is coming soon



Did I mention the registers?

And so your life
Your life has failed
You’ve made the progress of a snail
Don’t worry you’ll get your revenge
For we’re all equal in the end
The small and mighty all the same
This life a shallow, facile game
Where every empire turns to dust
And every ego will be crushed

The crack of doom

Is coming soon
The crack of doom
Is coming soon



With that timing everyone will have run towards the exits already

And every dream, hope and desire
Is just a flicker in the fire
And that fire it will consume
The crack of doom
Is coming soon

But oh dear! Someone’s only left ONE emergency exit open.

The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom is coming soon
The crack of doom
Is coming soon

~Narrator (Joe or Cornelius, or Rupert, or Travis…)

God – 2, Joe – 1

Posted in Journals, Paradox Society with tags on February 19, 2009 by Malzan



About Death…

Posted in Paradox Society, Project #1, Saints on January 27, 2009 by fakedrake

From Legend’s archives (By Fake Drake)
The only way to true freedom and life is to release yourself of the bounds of fear.There are many kinds of fear. Each has its own flavour, its own fragrance. But they all can be tracked down to one kind that includes all. The fear of all fears i dare to say. The fear of death.
We may not notice it in modern western societies for we are busy with subjects that “matter” but death is a fundamental principle. From ancient times death was worshiped for it is the only way to understand and discriminate life. Alive is something that can die I might say. However in modern societies death is a forbidden topic. This is the main reason western people have stopped living. What they do is survive. Survive for another day.

In old days the death of a family member was mourned for days, even months. It was clear that what was being cooked once was a living creature. It was clear and understood that a beloved one making a trip overseas might never come back.

None of this is true today. People have selfishly forgotten that death is even a possibility, when it comes across their way they blind themselves to it and try to forget…and when it comes, even in their darkest hour, they will not dare to believe. They so selfishly think that it should be an awful event of glory that humanity will remember and honour forever. They make such a big deal out of it…it is disgusting. They scream and cry and try to blind themselves as they ever did but it is too late now to face the truth. After so many years of ignorance…a whole lifetime. It is not even tragic. It is just petty.

Ignorance of mortality is death. Without the understanding, the knowledge and the true belief of the possibility of death we are unable to understand that we are alive. Life is an active state and does not happen by itself. Therefore not believing that one is alive means that they are not. Fear of death is meaningless, merely an instinct that society did not slash out of men, and instead used it as means of mind control by manipulating the preserved form of it.

Therefore the only way to be truly reborn is to experience death and to remain alive you have to be able to see, to smell, to taste and to sense death with every nerve ending of your body. Remind yourself of the existence of possibility in change. Make death your ally, your territory, your friend. Love it as you love life to its last drop. And finally grant the gift of even a few hours of life. For they are better than 1000 years of surviving.