NO KIDDFUKKER HERE

MANIFESTO IN FIVE PARTS

Part I: WOLF

It’s dark outside. Butterflies are pounding at my window. They’re the size of dinner plates; soon they’ll break the glass. And hell will descend. His blood was so close, hot in his veins. Like love, like sex. He held me down on the pavement, he said: I will kill you. Just like years ago, the man above me with his hand pressing on my throat. I broke the hold and got on top, but I didn’t finish the fight instead I walked away. I won’t make the mistake again. In my dreams I stand my ground. It’s in my subconscious, in my future. The next time I saw him his face was covered with fresh scabs from a beating someone else gave him. He got what he was looking for; it’s a game for some men. I believe I was born to fight, I need to fight. I need to feel the rush of blood in the heat of the fight. It’s like love, or like hunting a beast you admire. Without fear there is no reason to live at all. I can’t look away when I see them. It’s like we are drawn together, a magnetic force, inevitable and unstoppable. It’s primal; a war between men. Fight for living space, lebenstraum. Fight because it’s in your blood. Fight because it’s him or you.

I’m on the hunt; I am the dark of night closing in behind you. I walk the streets in the dark of night. I don’t feel cold and I don’t feel afraid; I don’t feel anything at all. My soul is a diamond sharp pinprick of light, just like the dead stars above; cold and distant, an illusion of life, dead before their light hits the ground. I walk clothed in shadow, pestilence and misfortune walk in my footsteps. I am the host of disease. I am a breed apart from humanity. I walk among humans but I am not one of them. Some think that I can’t feel human emotions, but they are wrong. I feel loneliness like cold steel aching in my guts. I feel the thrill of superiority over the small minded mammals which breed on planet earth. My intellect is an extra-terrestrial monolith floating in space receiving knowledge of all that ever was and ever will be. I am a freak in the project of evolution; a throwback to a primordial type, and a flash-forward to the future of neo-humans. All species bloom and then fall, some of us know the fall is coming.

The thing about burning bright is that if you do it right the change within you is imperceptible to the naked eye. You just harden to the sharpest point, like diamond; crystalline clarity, purity of thought, of being. I am a black hole of anti-matter, feeding off the light of the universe, ever present but unnoticed. Swallower of light: cancer, devourer of worlds, thief of futures. Standing at the end of civilisation I feel the caveman’s simian rage in my heart. My veins flow with the blood of primordial reptiles: fight, fuck, eat. The storm rages in the sky overhead, the continents shift over earth’s fiery core beneath me, the miraculous sea laps eternally at the shifting shores, home to monsters. Beyond the sky the freezing vacuum of space stretches away into oblivion. Here I sleep to fight again tomorrow. I don’t need love at all, violence is my hard mistress. I’m in love with violence; I’m in love with the fight, it’s in my blood.

Part II: VIPERS

Their fake smiles: my fake smiles. Reality is flickering screens and impermanence; all shimmering light and emotion, all rung around with sparkling lights. It’s the crush of bodies and the stink of the crowd, faces in the crowd. I’m a betrayer of my own kind. The capitalists play their games. I’m stalking the streets, looking down on the world of men. Cold wind blows on my neck and I am flying back in time to another place, when the world was dark and full only of hope and dreams for the future. What do killers do when they retire? These streets are a nest of vipers, a nest of vipers. Safe, what is safe? I try to stay calm, try to have some virtue, and try to learn something. Stay busy, look down not up. Wind in my hair, the breeze on my skin. Music on the wind and I sing: stay away from me you’ll never know me; I will only ever hurt you. Everything I’ve ever done has been to stay out of trouble. I’m not hiding from others; I’m hiding from my own nature. It seems worthwhile. The west is pornographic. The west says have sex and don’t worry about the consequences. The west says STI’s are treatable and you can live with them. The west says sin is Freudian guilt which can be psychoanalysed away like a bad dream, rationalised by secular thought. Westerners have no souls; we carry our death around with us. We are white skinned devils building a heaven on earth and living like gods, exploiting the developing world. This is a colonialism of the mind, if you can’t swim in the water you will sink. Capitalist imperialism is a viscous mind game; a nest of vipers. Vipers in your mind: a coiled snake in your gut. Like a cold venom in your spine with its jaws on your optic nerve.

Everything I touch turns to dirt. In a world of dirt what do value judgements matter? Sometimes I dig up my parents and they say: stink. I talk to my friends and they say: rot. I can’t stop the ants from crawling in my eye sockets and eating my brain. Under the water I can’t hear you. Under the water you can’t breathe here so I will go deeper down away from you. Sinking in the liquid blackness, the sins and corruption of the world turned to a deadly element, the primordial sludge of creation, the filth of earth mother. Humans are the parasites of the earth, eating time, devouring the future. Another dirt day for me, I’m just counting time. I’ll pull your legs off one by one to see what you look like then. Stomp on your guts until your gizzards pop out on the pavement. Dead spider eyes still looking at me saying: I’ll get you. Running, and running, and running. Running away from you: running straight into you. I can’t walk away any more, I can’t turn away from another fight; I have no choice. No-one will defend me, I’m on my own. There is a culture of victim blaming: you must have deserved it, the bystanders say with their eyes. But I’m afraid of my own nature. Our society both abhors and valorises violence. Since I was assaulted the thin veneer of civility has slid off my world and now my eyes see things as they really are: primitive, savage and visceral.

PART III: PHOENIX

All the greed of mankind, all swept up to this. All come to this conclusion. We stand naked on the beach of time, we cannot go forward and there is nothing to go back to. Lost in this place, all is lost here. I tire of the strictures of normality endlessly played out in monotonous repetition. I am a thousand times more intelligent. I wish to rise above humans. I want to destroy all binaries and codes of behavioural conditioning. I want to rise above the earth, shed my skin and release my blood to fall on the earth below in a shower of red rain. Stripped of the bondage of form I will rise above. I will be eternal, immortal. I will be everywhere at once. I will know everything, I will be everything. I want to turn the world inside out, destroy everything you know. Every truth I will smash. Every reality I will blur and feed into an implosion.

Syria. An all-night journey from Jordan, overland across the desert; part way in the back of a fast SUV, then camels, then a long march into a remote village. We pass the mass graves of the 70,000 souls of the Iraqi army, executed en masse for being Christian or belonging to the wrong Muslim sect. An early morning bus, a white van, takes me to major trading city, somewhere I can lose myself. Walking through the marketplace, past Persian rugs and widescreen led FHD screens, I come to a walled square. Shouldering my wall through a crowd of spectators I see a street entertainer in the centre of the large courtyard. The old man coils a thick hemp rope into a large open basket with much ceremony, he looks like a snake charmer, but I see no snakes. Perhaps he is Moses and will turn the rope into a snake? He sits cross-legged and barefoot on a threadbare carpet over the dirt and taking up a primitive clarinet, he plays. The smoke of hookahs wafts across my face from the crowd and my head swoons with the heat of the desert, in the shrill slow notes of the music I hear the Muslim call to prayer reworked and strung into an incantation. I feel I will fall down but then I see something move in the basket, is it a snake? No, the rope is rising straight and true as if it were a pole. I can see no strings and nothing overhead to cause its upward movement. Just then I feel as if this is not the 21^st century; that time has stood still and Jesus is just some bastard boy.

The rope has reached the height of a house and it stands as rigid as a fire-pole while the music plays on. The old man calls me forward with his eyes and I can only comply. In the music I hear the call to prayer and the old man tells me with his thoughts that here is the way to Allah. I will climb the rope to Allah. The rope is rough and cuts my hands but their bleeding won’t stop me, still I climb. The fools bay in the crowd below but the roar of the market fades from my ears as if I were rowing away from shore. The dull cannot see what I can see from here. I reach the point at the top of the rope where strange clouds have formed as if the sky has come down to caress the earth. I look down on the world; all humanity suffers in a valley of tears. The senses are the cause of their suffering; the filthy crowd in garish colours, the stench of bodies. I turn my face towards the sky and put one hand over the other, my head breaks through the clouds. The light of the divine fills my soul, I am subsumed by Allah. I am a Phoenix on fire. I have shed my limbs; they fall in pieces to the hard earth below. I deep six my blood and a red rain falls from the clouds.

PART IV: LOVER

I don’t want an introduction. I don’t want to know who you are. I don’t want to talk. Love me unconditionally. Love me wildly. Be with me now, stay with me. Huddle in the dark with me while the earth comes to an end above us and heaven burns. All I want is someone to love me. So infect me, destroy me, but all I want is you. Until the end, these few short years. There’s not much time left, love me before I die. I am here now, I have arrived. I have everything I need; I have plenty, I am established. I am hated; no-one likes me, I am what I wanted to be. I am alone. I am free. I’m hanging on this moment. The peak of the parabola: weightless, fearless, and tasteless. I can see the sky. I am the sky. I am the horizon. I want to bow before earthrise and weep at her beauty. Her heart of stone, Gaia mother: so cold. I want to watch the sun burn her face to ashes. Now here comes the descent, the fall. I have decided to retire from life; to cease to care, to try not to try. I explode. I retaliate. I win. I destroy. I overcome.

I’m living every day closer to the end. I’m nearing to the void, crossing the universe inside the prison of my mind. I walk in the halls of vapour and light towards a moment of truth. I am blind in the darkness. What happens if I give in? If I say I want no more and I don’t care to be who I am, neither to be the things that I have done? When I say I can’t go on and I don’t want to fight anymore. All my plans have come to this and I don’t care to dream anymore. I’m trapped in the chicane, conform or perish. I’ve fought against my fate for long enough, all there are these few weeks. I am tired and all I want to do is sleep. It was worth it for the hours I spent with you, reciprocating my need. Loneliness is lying in a cold bed, my body aching for you. The past is only as far away as the inside of my skull. But it is separated by the gulf of time passed. The future is a cold abyss. I’m above the world, high, and alone with my pain. I’m cold as stone, vacant, all-encompassing, all-possessing. Haunted, haunting, I’m a ghost among men, hunting. What do I want, what do I need, what do I seek? Who will I spend time with? Lie with me, I’m a liar. Love me: I have no feelings. Submit to me: I am dominant. Don’t hurt me: I want to hurt you. Magic consume me, magic remake me, magic guide my hand. My blood is the earth; my love is the autumn fall. The death of the sun: the fall of man.

PART V: REVELATION

Screaming across the universe, across the night, all the shells of men fall away like so many grains of sand on a shore. The breath of time blows against the shore and scatters the shells to dust. Let’s deconstruct the codes of communication that oppress and control us. Let’s decode all the binaries and social scripts, burn the algorithms that design our potential. Let your consciousness expand along the space-time continuum at the speed of light. Everywhere and nowhere you swell until your spirit is the size of God. You are the night and the day. Climb the peak jump off, and falling you are born into the everything of the ever-present. The all-knowing is here. It is a new way of life. I know what people are thinking. I know their character and how they speak, what they want. The entire interaction has already happened in my mind, and I can choose whether to re-live it or not. Stop the sun, turn off gravity and we will rise weightless, lifeless, heartless, painless. We are spinning, floating with the grace of sparrows in clear blue water. I am my grandfather, hugging my mother to my chest, I see my sister and she is my reflection; myself. I give birth to myself time and time again. I am who I am from the distant future to the primordial past. This tiny window of my lifespan contains the pattern of eternity, the DNA of God. I was born in Yggdrasil the World Tree, spawned onto the moss of Eden, suckled by wolves and fed on the blood of human sacrifice.

Odin and Thor play drinking games together while Eve is ravished by Adam again and again. She can’t hide her shame or hide her ecstasy. I am the hedgehog burrowing under Marie Antoinette’s hedge, into her garden of secrets and self-fantasy; her escape into destitution porn. It is poverty as fantasy of the rich. No different from wealthy business men cruising for hookers in slums of the urban poor. Who pays for drugs manufacture anyway? They came and grabbed her legs and rough men hauled her viscerally into reality. It was a brutal awakening of the third world outside her walled garden. My skin is the feathers of Quetzalcoatl. I am a space shuttle in 3000ad, plutonium plated, travelling at the speed of light, onwards and upwards, never ending, all seeing and all knowing I encompass everything. I have 10 billion faces. I give birth to myself, I eat myself, I kill myself. Rising… rising… There is a silence so still and serene. I hear the falling of water, roaring so close behind my eyes, filling my head. The city is built with my blood. I flex my muscles and shake civilisation off my back like carbon dioxide from my lungs. I exhale you and your ambitions, excrete your poisons and feed them back to you. Snake, fearless, heartless, cold-blooded killer, can you stop this? You can never stop this. Napalm rain and Vesuvius erupting; hard core explosions inside my mind. My synapses soaked in adrenaline. Lock me up and throw away the key. I’ll crawl into your cerebral cortex through the pores of your face into your optic nerves.

I’m running at brick walls just for fun again. Open fire on the sky, set fire to the Ozone layer. Drain the atmosphere so humanity can make the next evolutionary leap. We’ll become Gods, living in the stars. Fuck ISIS, anyone can be a terrorist. I want to reinvent God. I want to super-cede Homo sapiens. Reboot Mother Nature and begin evolution again. Return to the wild, the project of a merciless and pitiless deity, outnumbered by flying demons from Hades. Flood hell and what do you get? Where will the souls of the 70,000 Iraqi army soldiers, slaughtered by IS, go? Perhaps they will fight over the virgins in heaven. Drain the sky, dredge the oceans, burn the earth; set sail for a distant sun. Put humanity to sleep, dream of another world to come. With skies of green and yellow vapours: and an atmosphere as thick as lead. With endless shifting dunes: and ceaseless lashing winds. It is the birth of something new. I’m running into the heart of the sun. Mother take me back. Sink into the grave and pull nightfall over the ephemera of man’s dreams, say goodnight. This is the end of everywhere and nowhere; all things begin at the end.