Henry Rollins

Henry Rollins (born February 13, 1961) is an American spoken word artist, writer, journalist, comedian, publisher, actor, radio DJ, activist and former singer-songwriter.

After performing for the short-lived Washington D.C.-based band State of Alert in 1980, Rollins fronted the California hardcore punk band Black Flag from August 1981 until mid-1986. Following the band's breakup, Rollins established the record label and publishing company 2.13.61 to release his spoken word albums, as well as forming the Rollins Band, which toured with a number of lineups from 1987 until 2003, and during 2006.

Since Black Flag disbanded, Rollins has hosted numerous radio shows, such as Harmony in My Head on Indie 103, and television shows such as The Henry Rollins Show, MTV's 120 Minutes, and Jackass. He had a recurring dramatic role in the second season of Sons of Anarchy and has also had roles in several films. Rollins has also campaigned for various political causes in the United States, including promoting LGBT rights, World Hunger Relief, and an end to war in particular, and tours overseas with the United Service Organizations to entertain American troops.

It makes me angry sometimes, it's a visceral thing. How you come to despise your own words in your ears, not because they aren't genuine, but because they are; because you've said them so many times, your 'principles,' your 'ideals,' and so damned little in the world has changed because of them. It’s a mystery to me, we have greed with which we’ve agreed, you think you have to want more than you need until you have it all you won’t be free? Society, you’re a crazy breed, I hope you’re not lonely, without me. Justice? You get justice in the next world. In this one, you have the law.                                                                                                                                  

You may be poor, but the one thing nobody can take away from you is the freedom to fuck up your life whatever way you want to.
The human species was given dominion over the earth and took the opportunity to exterminate other species and warm the atmosphere and generally ruin things in its own image, but it paid this price for its privileges: that the finite and specific animal body of this species contained a brain capable of conceiving the infinite and wishing to be infinite itself.
The power of the dead is that we think they see us all the time. The dead have a presence. Is there a level of energy composed solely of the dead? They are also in the ground, of course, asleep and crumbling. Perhaps we are what they dream. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. 



 

Rowland S. Howard

Rowland Stuart Howard (24 October 1959 – 30 December 2009) was an Australian rock musician, guitarist and songwriter, best known for his work with the post-punk group The Birthday Party and his subsequent solo career.

-I'm soaring through outer space
There is no better place
To be...-

 

 

 

 

''ROCK guitarist Rowland S. Howard dragged himself out of bed on October 29 last year for a gig in his St Kilda neighbourhood.

Weighing 60kg, he barely made a bump under the blankets but a dapper suit helped him conceal his swollen abdomen, puffy legs and the rash over his dysfunctional liver. Dosed with anti-nausea medication, he warned the audience of goths and hipsters that he was feeling queasy and could vomit. The signature Lark cigarette that dangled from his lips when he burst on to the ’70s punk scene with Nick Cave in The Boys Next Door was missing. So too was the heroin that had laced his veins on and off until 2004.
He swigged from a bottle of Pepsi at the Prince that night, playing his trademark Fender Jaguar, performing songs from his new solo album Pop Crimes as well as classics the fans knew by heart. Standing several feet from the front of the stage, gig reviewer Greg Moskovitch tried to reconcile the room’s thumping mood with the painful signs of Howard’s physical decay.
Halfway through the last song, Exit Everything, he noticed something spill from Howard’s lips. He thought it was sweat or saliva. But when Howard wiped his mouth his fingers were covered in blood; it dripped on to the microphone and down to the floor. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever knowingly been this close to a dying man,” Moskovitch later recounted in an article lauding this gaunt, talented, underappreciated songwriter, who like it or not had made heroin chic. Eight weeks later, on December 30, Howard let go of life. He was 50.''

 

 

 

 

- Imagine your life is a big canvas. Picture it in your mind and think about the beginning of your painting of life. You're fourteen years old and you are lucky if you have one seventh painted. Now imagine the rest of the canvas is totally empty. Every day you live, and every month, and every year, means another inch that is painted on the canvas. You're going to be painting this empty canvas with your life and when you get to the end of it, what is that painting going to look like?

Sometimes we don't even realize what we really care about because we get so distracted by the symbols. -

02.07.2012.

“In the beginning there was nothing, which exploded.” T.P.

“Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mind-bogglingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen to see it as the final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God.
The argument goes something like this: "I refuse to prove that I exist,'" says God, "for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing."
"But," says Man, "The Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED."
"Oh dear," says God, "I hadn't thought of that," and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.
"Oh, that was easy," says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.” D.A.

Till Lindemann (Rammstein)

Till Lindemann (born 4 January 1963) is a German musician, actor and poet who is the frontman for the German Neue Deutsche Harte band Rammstein. 

MUTTER:  

The song was confirmed by Till Lindemann and Richard Kruspe to be a reference to their unhappy childhood relationships with their own mothers. The lyrics tell the story of a child not born from a womb but in an experiment, thus having no true father or mother. The lyrics describe his plan to kill both the mother "who never gave birth to him" and himself, a plan which he proceeds to carry out. However, he still fails to kill himself, instead ending up mutilated and no better off than before. The child begs, possibly prays, for strength, but his dead mother does not answer. The narrative of the song is similar to Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, in that the character takes revenge for his misfortunes on his 'parent', and then ends up no different than he was before the 'parent' died.

14.06.2012.

'Udisao sam svjezu majsku noc, mladu i iskricavu, volim proljece, mislio sam, volim proljece, neumoreno i neotezalo, budi nas vedrim lakomislenim zovom da pocnemo iznova, varka i nada svake godine, novi pupovi nicu iz starih stabala, volim proljece, vicem u sebi uporno, prisiljavam se da povjerujem, krio sam ga od sebe ranijih godina, a sad ga zovem, nudim mu se da me obume, dodirnem cvijet jabuke kraj puta, i glatku novu grancicu, sokovi zubore njenim bezbrojnim zilicama, tok im osjecam, neka mi kroz jagodice predju u tijelo, jabukov cvat da nikne na mojim prstima, i prozirno zeleno lisce na mojim dlanovima, da budem blagi miris vockin, i njena tiha nebriga, nosicu ocvjetale ruke pred zadivljenim ocima, pruzacu ih kisi hraniteljki, u zemlju ukopan, nebom hranjen, proljecima obnavljan, jesenima smirivan, dobro bi bilo poceti sve iz pocetka.' M.S.

27.05.2012.

-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.-

W.B.Y.

stoneworx gallery 

 

04.04.2012.

Too bright to even see the sun, more and more sand in my eyes.

 stoneworx gallery

I'll chase you like a moon...

"We question our sanity, determine we’ve gone mad, and fall into the pit of spent life. What do I want? That is the most difficult question, when really I have two very conflicting answers. One which will kill me, and at times this seems to be the most desirable." A.W.

stoneworx gallery

"Rival gangsters sit down to plan an after school program. A religious fanatic posts footage of an interfaith service project. A group of teenage boys watches a video of a father playing catch with his son. An adult film star paints thumbnail portraits of elderly couples fully clothed and smiling. A record executive records a demo of his apology. A policeman makes reverse 911 calls isntructing residents to take to the streets. A patriarch reports for duty. She's wearing an orange jumpsuit and holding a picket sign. She's ashamed of her birthplace, but retreat is not an option."

HIGH SCHOOL PLAYLIST (ohgodwhy?)

Ok, I don't do these kinds of things (let me rephrase that: I HATE doing these kinds of things), BUT since this is my friend's idea... I thought: what the hell, you live only once (and revenge is best served cold, right... AMELA?). ;)          

1. Everlast - Black Jesus

2. NIN - Gave Up

3. Marilyn Manson - Coma White

4. Wolfsheim - Once in a Lifetime 

5. System Of A Down - Aerials

6. Slipknot - Wait and Bleed

7. Static X - Push It 

8. Queen - I Want To Break Free 

9. Aerosmith - Livin' On The Edge

10. Rammstein - Du Hast

11. Alice In Chains - Rooster

12. Tool - Stinkfist

There's more, lot's more, but I'm too lazy to remember or to write any of them down.

TAGS (I really hope these people don't kill me):

- Morbid Anatomy 

- Tales From the Old Country

-Ines Dedovic

-Chad Syphrett: Living Meme

-Mmm...

Beardyman

Darren Foreman (born 14 May 1982), better known as Beardyman, is a musician from London renowned for his beatboxing skills and use of live looping technology, and according to the BBC "King of Sound and Ruler of Beats".

http://www.beardyman.co.uk/

Dismay takes hold of your throat until the only thing real is the lack of conscious and it's persistence in ending the vitality of what was once a spectacular presence.

Waiting for a chance that things could change or spend another night among the dead. Cause I cursed my lonely memory with picture-perfect imagery. Maybe I'm not dying, I'm just living in decaying cities, but I'm still healthy, I'm still fine. I'll be spending my time readin' the obituaries.

 

Traveling: I always stop at exits wondering if I'll stay. Young and restless, living this way I stress less. Everyone noticed, everyone has seen the signs, I've always been known to cross lines. 'Jesus' don't love me, no one ever carried my load, I'm too young to feel this old. Skies they blink at me, I see a storm bubbling up from the sea.

And it's coming closer.

"I'm trying to get my brain right, trying to correct my brain chemistry with more chemistry," he says. Shocking but we're nothing. We're just moments, we're clever but we're clueless. I've been looking for a way out, something that isn't so cruel. Well I'm a little tired, you see, complacent and miserable. I think you're missing out, I think you're dumbing it down. You're past the point of holding up to your words, there's no getting it by us now. We're just human, amusing and confusing. Talking to myself all the way to the station, pictures in my head of the final destination, all lined up are the ones that aren't allowed to stay. Try to save myself but myself keeps slipping away.

Burning bridges doesn't mean that you can't return where you came from. Perserve and rear your head, just to let someone know you're here.You've got the answer to the question you've been wondering for years. But you just don't want to hear it. That type of news could set you back for years. I'm interested in what people do with the chaos in their lives and how they respond to it, and simultaneously what they do with what they feel like are limitations. If they push against these limitations, will they wind up in the realm of chaos, or will they push against limitations and wind up in the world of freedom? 

Father abuses son, son abuses his son and it is passed on and on. I hate what it is in me, that is in you, and a child is cut. Year after year it continues to consume all it touches, bitterness and denial consuming and causing hate that gets passed on like a sickness until it is disarmed with a smile by someone who understands it. I see the rage and know what it is and I smile and it cannot touch me because I choose to make it so. I pass the smile over to my son, my love, and the killer in me kills no more. I choose t o live my own life and teach my son to fear no more. I keep feeling that people are becoming less human and more animalistic. They seem to think less and feel less so that everyone is operating on a very primitive level. I wonder what you and I will see in our lifetimes. It seems so hopeless yet we must keep on trying ... I guess we can't escape being a product of times, can we?