C. Eliott Johnston, 36, Maschio, Svalbard e Jan MayenUltimo accesso: Venerdì sera

  • Aggiungi agli amici
  • Invia un messaggio
  • Invia un messaggio in bacheca

Il tuo grado di compatibilità musicale con exactoknife è Sconosciuto

Crea il tuo profilo musicale

Brani ascoltati di recente

Hagalaz' RunedanceAlva 22 Mag 20:17
GarmarnaVittrad 22 Mag 20:13
EluveitieGray Sublime Archon 22 Mag 20:06
Vestigiallast extinction prayer Brano preferito 20 Mag 14:27
Blind PilotThe Story I Heard Brano preferito 20 Mag 14:11
PlejYou Brano preferito 20 Mag 14:02
Claudio MonteverdiLamento della ninfa Brano preferito 20 Mag 13:56
Loop GuruMarble One Brano preferito 20 Mag 13:50
Metropolitan Jazz AffairDrifting (Swing Mix) Brano preferito 20 Mag 13:46
Momma GravyFlying Seed Brano preferito 20 Mag 13:41
Visualizza altro


Aggiungi un commento. Accedi a Last.fm o registrati.


"Behind the line of my skull that hides behind my hair and skin, I see the self-same skull of my father, and beyond the skull of my father, the skull of my grandfather, and the skull of my great grandfather, whom I never knew. And so on this line unto the Alpha and Omega point at infinity. With my eye-this fire, this fly, that sees everything and smiles, and comprehends nothing, and dies-I see all around my head and that end. I have invented myself; I have created myself; I am just a form of dream English, words stretched with skin and fear. From my eyes in my skull my father observes this immense and kaleidoscopic dream. By birth I am other than this. The mosquitoes rejoice in my skin. This lizard is on the ceiling above me. The shallow water pots deny the ants routes to food. There is no silence ever. The cicadas are omnipotent sound. The kampong is dark and still. I am not what I thought I was. I am not what I seem. Most of all, I am not what I am. I thought it was the news rushing down the wires, happy in death and fashion, spinning yo-yos and clacking its jaw, raising its eyes, mimicking dogs at play. The sun shuts down, and erases birdlight. And in this stunted eclipse I saw myself, some darkness at last tenuously visible, love as the sweetest thing. Al Bowlly, Jack Buchanan, sing on, dreaming of the lamps and the beautiful ladies, bowed lips packed with blood, the stages kisses trembling under the placid stars, the coffee taken with cream and scones under the Viennese Moon; whilst we are weighed, we are judged, and twist in this storm like birds over sails."

Skull of My Father
David Tibet

My super-eclectic score is currently


(*calculated 6-21-13)


Attività recenti