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mordicai caeli

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November 30th, 2004

the whir of the corvid moon. [Nov. 30th, 2004|08:34 am]
mordicai caeli
[Current Mood |hyena/scarecrow.]
[Current Music |crown me king- cast the first stone out of heaven]

i keep meaning to add "no more tommorows" to my to-do list. i mean, i wake up some mornings & i am born out of the colour of hate. i surface up from some dream (i was going down on jenny as she sat on the night-stand i had next to my bed growing up, while meanwhile strange scraping sounds came from the hydroponics tank in my closet) & into the wake. into the long funeral where everyone moves like halloween ghosts, draped in sheets. i suppose that is the romance for some; the crawl of entropy lends beauty to the fragile? but all i can see is a lie that can't stand up to scrutiny. all i see is erosion; your face was once a blank wall but cataracts & hurricanes have worn holes to call your eyes, your mouth. & all you see is an echo of me; what once was black is now a stain. distance & deciet have hidden my crown from you.
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goodbye my blue asteroid (goodbye my coney island, goodbye my coney island...) [Nov. 30th, 2004|04:37 pm]
mordicai caeli
[Current Mood |sleepy, fierce.]
[Current Music |crown me king- koschei vs. baba yaga.]

i keep thinking about pykrete cometcraft; glacial spaceships gliding silent through space, hideous spacething hidden within. you know, gods of voluptuous cruelty who even cryogenically frozen seem to writhe & seethe? oh how i hurled through the tombs of stars like a glistening javelin, a heart of pitch amidst a great ice spike, driven through the night, shedding a halo of ionized gas. oh yucatan your bosom was the bull's eye where my vessel did crash, blooming up from the ground. scattered, shattered; as we tumbled out, we lost our shared phantasmagory, our one self, our hive. oh babel, oh great ship! how our exile pains me even now.

make ready the terrible weapons.
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its not rape if you own them. [Nov. 30th, 2004|09:06 pm]
mordicai caeli
[Current Mood |latinately.]
[Current Music |modes rodentia- merovingian]

just the boys hanging round the store finishing off a twelve pack of amstel light. david & christopher have been working on their group nanowrimo. peter & i have been uh, running the front of the store. i'm kinda a-glower about the neopets servers being busy- i want a shot at the zombie soldiers, you dig? um, what the fuck is everyone talking about? i think c.s. lewis' silver chair was mentioned, or maybe that was just me. we're so tied down, so loud. rolling back & forth on the floor, crawling back & forth, clawing back & forth. so its so jump & scowl around here! we're boys, so we bare fangs & beat our chests. oh & i'm listening to modest mouse & well hell lets fuck with the novel's word count! oh dammit we've been caught, okay. lets do something predictable or something! or um, whose packing heat? no one brought a gun? you dumb bunch of niggers. (oh fuck david got white castle & then said "whoo is this fun! i'm a little giddy i guess").
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