In the jugle

This city lives in pollution, nice and thick, it blocks everything in sight; and all dark alleys fucked up with graffiti on the walls become the centre of all centres, testing our yearn for vices, this craving we have to do some more sin... and what happens there, stays there, protected and secure in the conscience of the city. Not in ours, we don’t have it anymore… conscience…

These fumes, they’re created from our disappointments, and they grow vast further out in time. We have no idea where we’ve been, and we hardly give a decent fuck where we’re going. In this jungle where everything is erased but the exaltation in our need for greed, we’re chased only by ourselves. Here, in this den, nature met its doom – it found us; here, our lungs are filled with poisonous air, when our diseases grow in numbers, come, we got them all.

… remembrance of what we were, even that is lost. Things we’ve lost are measured in people… in this sad little blue marble we call home, people are treated like things, accessories.

… and I am that Corto, incorrigible romantic, who still feels happiness beyond description to my heart from our strength in numbers… the only baggage that I carry is the gold of my faith in love, so I love some more.

Pigments of the madness surrounding me

Orderly defined pixels of thoughts forming in my conscience, uncovering paths with potentials beyond imagination, challenging even desires. Curiosity dictates overwhelming need for speed, no roads only racetracks, introducing concept of no gravity as a guiding rule of law in such a picturesque world… when obvious attractions are seducing all senses openly and most welcome. Like a psychotropic substance slowly depositing on the spine, when in summer…

This blue eye devil is a sin in your time, bringing along with him spiral of dirty intentions and even more vices; with a soul pledge to threaten and destroy your tamed self. I am that wicked denomination erasing your carefully and diligently built borders, only to replace them with infinity. This titan is rising from a myth and warping into life destroying every stone of your high keep into nothing but rubble.

Tasty treat standing tall by opposing moral standards, occult by default and forbidden by choice. Pigments of the madness surrounding me…

 

Digital Alchemists

They blame us that we’re morally depraved and our souls are possessed by dark arts, that we’re actually seduced by the occult. They warn that our minds are deranged in perversity and that our habits are violation of the human form. They alert that our corrupt practices are against nature, opposite of everything pure and innocent. But they say there’s cure for our diseases, we need to repent. What they want is control… what they are, is actually “older than movies" :)))

Our restlessness is the pleasure of living, deranged in its depravity as it is. The occult has taught us about the secret ways of the human soul, in there we find our true selves. The nature is not dark, we enjoy unbalanced love for the human form. Free from masks or any false pretenses, we wonder this Earth celebrating life, since we're true to ourselves. The perversity we hold most dear in the heart is only a healthy expression of our own sexuality. We’re curious, our thirst is to seek for new elements, we’re digital alchemists. Innocence and peace in the spirit are anomalies, we yearn for more since there’s more of us. This restlessness which is a guide through the rivers of time has made us beyond repent, impossible in the possibility to be caged…

We lost our sense of redemption, we don’t want to be safe from sin… we need to be in the middle of it ;)