Musings of the insane.

Horus Rising

"I was there the day Horus turned his face from the Emperor."

"I was there the day that Horus fell."


Know No Fear

"War is acceptable when it is a necessary instrument of survival. When it is no longer needed, the very fact that it was ever a necessary instrument at all becomes unpalatable."

"Circumstances makes decisions for us all."

"If we build systems we cannot run, what is the point of building them? The annihilation of self. The abnegation of sentience."

"A moving target is harder to hit. That's the logic. In truth, a moving target makes itself alone and vulnerable."

"Pain is something we learn from, and mercy is a waste of ammunition."


The Primarchs

"I have flow high on cresting tide of euphoria and sensation. But like all tides, that fickle euphoria had receded and left me with a gaping emptiness in my life."

"What better mirror is there than the face of an old friend? Only those we love have the power to show us our true selves."

"Non-conformity in thought and deed is the only vital life. Brotherhoods are for sheep-minds, and heresy is godly!"

"Something was dogging his thoughts, just beyond the reach of his senses. He wanted to seize it, crush it in his fist, but how could he crush a feeling? Trepidation, anger, and resolve kaleidoscoped into a single imperative. Face it, and kill it."

"It is better to act and ask for forgiveness later than be paralysed by indecision."

"All things that live are enslaved to something; be it lust for wealth and power or the desire for possessions and new experiences. Or the desire to be part of something greater..."

"You would think that he would be too self-absorbed to notice your calculating scrutiny, but true self-obsession could only be fed by the attention of others."


Fear to Tread

"Perfection is not a state of being, it is a state of striving. The journey is all that has meaning, not the goal."

"The individual who does not conform risks censure. That is fact, whatever you may want or need, whatever your heart and soul tell you."

"Some might say that the most potent torment a man could experience would be to see into the beating, bloody heart of his darkest inner soul, to look upon it with perfect and unfiltered clarity. To know the rage, the hate and evil that he was capable of."

I've been to paradise, and it didn't have you in it.

- Josh, post-Stanley farm weekend.

Don't kid yourself... This isn't hell, and you're not the devil; you're merely practice.

- Josh (paraphrased off unknown, after Stanley farm weekend)

"You know you are right for someone when they force you to be the best version of yourself."

- Danny Castellano

“The answer of love is ‘I am what is lacking in you; with my devotion to you, with my sacrifice for you, I will fill you out, I will complete you."

— SLAVOJ ZIZEK

"Say I am passionately attached, in love, or whatever, to another human being and I declare my love, my passion for him or her. There is always something shocking, violent in it. This may sound like a joke, but it isn't - you cannot do the game of erotic seduction in politically correct terms. There is a moment of violence, when you say: 'I love you, I want you.' In no way can you bypass this violent aspect. So I even think that the fear of sexual harassment in a way includes this aspect, a fear of a too violent, too open encounter with another human being."

Zizek, Slavoj and Sabine Reul and Thomas Deichmann (Interviewers). 'The one measure of true love is: you can insult the other'

“...when do I actually encounter the Other 'beyond the wall of language', in the rel of his or her being? Not when I am able to describe her, not even when I learn her values, dreams, and so on, but only when I encounter the Other in her moment of jouissance: when I discern in her a tiny detail (a compulsive gesture, a facial expression, a tic) which signals the intensity of the real of jouissance. This encounter with the real is always traumatic; there is something at least minimally obscene about it; I cannot simply integrate it into my universe, there is always a gulf separating me from it.”

― Slavoj Žižek, The Plague of Fantasies

Until lions have their own historians, the tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.

We are all afraid, and we fear because we still think that there is hope; the only hope we have to accept is the fact that we are already dead. The sooner we accept that, the sooner we will be able to function as we are supposed to function. Without mercy. Without compassion. Without remorse.

You stand in the light drizzle, waiting for the lights to change. The glare of headlamps glint off the rain-soaked surface, and reflect dimly back to the darkness within your eyes. You stare into space, focusing on everything you see, and seeing nothing your eyes focus upon; the show goes on within your head - the background immaculate, the props perfect, and the voices of the actors ring melodiously, echoing distinctly within the walls of your imagination. You rue the perfect narrative you have constructed within the confines of your self-doubt, because whilst your free hand paints the untarnished canvas, your hand is never free from the chains of your vacillation. Every stroke, every brush, on this endless sailcloth, is constrained by the perfect storm of your own making. Every brush stroke, every line, becomes marred by the perceived inferiority, even absolute perfection would never satisfy... The lights change, and you struggle to take the first step, away from this perfectly imperfect narrative, away from the flaws in your imagination, away from falsity within the truth.

You finally take a step, and release the stale air from your lungs; your next breath brings in the heady joy of a new narrative, and with it, the disappointment that ensues.