by spider hacksaw
Archive for the Uncategorized Category
A MIDSUMMER’S NIGHTMARE © 2009
Posted in Uncategorized on November 12, 2020 by spider hacksawby spider hacksaw
to love, be loved, be love / spider hacksaw / ©2018
Posted in Uncategorized on February 9, 2018 by spider hacksawto love, be loved, be love
finding some secret configuration, that forms a perfect pool of blood in your light,
that fills our eyes with tears, sighs, & delight,
all the while making us smile inside
this is the love i feel within myself
for you
to love, be loved, be love
to love, be loved, be love
_____________________________________________________
to love, be loved, be love / spider hacksaw / ©2018
here to hear / spider hacksaw / ©2018
Posted in Uncategorized on January 12, 2018 by spider hacksawI heard howling last night, outside the asylum. Often I only hear it inside, because one of my fellow mental patients believes he is a werewolf. The howling outside comes from the woods because there are wolves in the woods. I’ve seen them. At least I’ve seen their eyes, glowing.
I don’t go into the woods at night, or at least I’m not supposed to, as we are not allowed out of the asylum after dark. We, all the patients that is, have a curfew, and the curfew at Noosehearse Asylum is prior to the dawn of darkness, also called nightfall.
As you know, I often go for walks in the woods. I walk to Goblin Cliff or Seven Hills Cemetery, which is the cemetery where they bury many of the patients who die at Noosehearse Asylum, sometimes by committing suicide by jumping to their deaths off of Goblin Cliffs.
When I see the wolves, it is in the woods, not on the cliffs. I am in the woods walking and they are in the woods, hiding. They are afraid of me, as I am afraid of them. They watch me from the shadows and darkness of the dense trees. If I were to get hurt somehow, say in a fall or some other fashion, some sort of accident, they would raise me up. They would raise me up from my fall by gobbling up my flesh and releasing my soul to the sky, and beyond. Because wolves are hungry. That’s why they howl. Because they are hungry. For flesh mostly, but also for love. Hunger and love are almost the same thing.
I sit sometimes, there in the cemetery. Just watching. Not thinking. Just sitting. Being. Listening to the silence that surrounds me. The deep endless silence that gives life to sound. For without silence, there would be no sound. I love the soft wind as it whispers to the woods, through the trees, using the leaves and the branches of the trees to speak so gently to the woods, and anyone, such as myself, who is there to hear.
There are wolves here. And there are ghosts here, in the cemetery, here in the woods by the sea, surrounding Noosehearse Asylum, and me. There are wolves, ghosts, trees, the breeze, and me. Sometimes the wolves howl, the wind howls, the ghosts howl. The mental patients of Noosehearse Asylum howl. And I listen. Because I am here to hear.
—spider hacksaw / January 2018
Life in Mars
Posted in Uncategorized on January 11, 2018 by spider hacksaw“There are hellish monsters living deep in the mountainous caves of Mars, waiting for humans to arrive. For the taste of astronaut flesh is divine.”
—spider hacksaw
Poverty & Greed
Posted in Uncategorized on January 11, 2018 by spider hacksaw“The way we end poverty is by ending greed. That masses struggle while the few steal & hoard the majority of wealth created by the working slave masses. This must end if humanity & our planet are to survive.”
—spider hacksaw
Posted in Uncategorized on October 27, 2017 by spider hacksaw
“More than anything I have ever known. I love the quiet. I love the calm. It feels like heaven. It feels like home.” —spider hacksaw
Posted in Uncategorized on October 27, 2017 by spider hacksaw
“not everyone seeks fame. only fame seekers seek fame. artists, in whatever field they exist, be it military, construction, management, or whatever, (most careers do not allow artistry because you are not in control of what you create)(thus most artistry belongs to artists). Artists do not seek fame. fame seekers seek fame. artists seek truth. truth is honesty. fiction, art, expression, speak more truth and honesty than reality, for they can speak freely. not all people seek fame. fame seekers seek fame. truth is whatever it is. honesty is whatever it is. fame is not natural. the results of fame, for artists, will create unnatural value. unnatural value is still born existence. it is a monstrosity to the artist. artists do not seek fame. fame seekers seek fame. for an artist, the fame belongs to the creation. not to the creator.”
—spider hacksaw (2013)
Posted in Uncategorized on October 27, 2017 by spider hacksaw
“There exists no attainable perfection within the manifested universe of temporary form. Only beyond it. What is perfection? We are perfection when we our unclothed of our illusory tapestries and garments of flesh–woven of sinew, vein and code, dried of our waters, given cessation of our mental machinery and the silence of our creaking bones.” —spider hacksaw
lunatic fringe II
Posted in Uncategorized on September 27, 2017 by spider hacksaw
spider hacksaw / ©2015
spider hacksaw eats & is eaten 