Expose The Tard Exposing the truth from as far back as 1993.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Dreams From An Old Man's Child

Can you guess why he calls himself an "Old Man's Child"?

"The box of Pandora has been opened -- revealing the demons and the Abominations that have been set free upon the earth. Spirits are free to roam after postmortem until the day of Spiral Torment arries -- the becoming -- the vision of martyrs that were crucified in the same matter that the Christ was, within the state of being. Screams of one thousand sould inhabit one's mind -- tormenting one inside of their darkest nightmares. Perhaps one could see the torment within the world of postmortem -- feverish dreams of pain and suffering -- taking a suicidal hold, the infernal nightmare is only the beginning."


In the lesser words that are written; there were many more nightmares written within the eyes of the projects. It would be within the horrors that are written, the horrors that would sit inside the mind of an old man's child. What would be written would be of the dreams from when I had sat in the Evanston behavior health waiting room; from the sleeps before. Which would be written would be in the eyes of the shunned -- that would be in the Prostestant Vactican, the words written inside speaking of the old man's child would be of the shadows spoken within the sins. That it would be an abomination descending into the maelstrom. It would be the hell which would be inside the journals written, the dreams spoken, and horrors shunned in the eyes of the ones who would not take it as the gospel truth. That it would be the start of something written only where the embryo of a nightmare; that a horror would slowly give birth. It would be among the horror; among the words which would be in the thoughts and the writings of the letters of the old man's child.
���That of one who would be writing this, the invite of the mental instability would be inside of their minds. Among the words and dreams from an old man's child. Which would be written in the nightmares would be a sin, the words that are spoken in the eyes of a martyr. The questions asking over questions that would remain unanswered. The gathering of the words written of the nightmares, that would be among the congregations waiting in the lines of the dream. From what would be written among the dreams of the old man's child -- a horror that would be there waiting for the nightmare to birth itself. That would be among them gathering within the walls of wood and steel. In the eyes that are written are the nightmares with a span of 25 years, that would be in the thoughts of where they are shedding their skins. It would be in the gathering would be the crucifixion of the martyred philosopher; the shadows cast upon the image of the Shades of Hades. From the dreams written, that would be among them -- the reliving of the verbal abuse from years past as their mental state is in a slow decay. That when they would be all staring at one in the halls, which would be written among the nightmares that they are no one -- which would be one without a face in a crowd.
����Among the faceless children that one would be sitting in the pews with them with the sullen hymns being sung but it was that of a distant cry, that as I would look among the gathering. One would see the raven or the shadow of the raven sitting alone within the torments of the written word. It would be the damnable thoughts that would be inside; that would be in horror within the creation -- the damnables and the unspeakables would be written in the letters of the old man's child. That it would be inside of the black room with the white door -- waiting for it to be opened and entered; that would be among them, among the gathering congregation in the eternal winter's night. Among the words, among the nightmares would look upon the harrowing soul that would be from the eyes and letters written from the old man's child. That as I would be writing this narrative; the memories that would be inside would be from the time that I had lived among 90 others in a barracks, but that would be there when I was a Religious Petty Officer the things were in my mind were the demise of a young woman who would see the nightmares from her sickness.
����It is in the nightmares written where of it is written and said that hell is home, and horror is in repetition. That would be in the shunning words; the damning prayers which would sit in the mind of the old man's child. Chances are in the nightmares that would be penned written within the eyes of the Shades watching on; that would be among them -- among the gathering congregation of the crucified faggots written in the eyes of the queer thoughts of the old man's child.
����Of forbidden words and shunned philosophies; the words written in the eyes of the bible-fearing; would be written among them as an act of witchcraft. Among the forbidden nightmares, that would be among the thoughts that would be in the dying dreams. Of it all that would come in the end. Among the gathering horrors, within the congregating dreams -- that they would only know that is written inside of the journals of the old man's child. In the sleeping hours that would be inside, the thoughts which are transcribed from the dreams would be of those questioning the sanity and mental health of the one writing this -- one of I am the one would take into a recollection of this narrative.
����It would be the question of my mental state when I am writing this narrative, of in the dream when I look in the mirror and see the old man's child looking back at me from the eyes of the ethereal. That as one would be in the horror of what would be, that would be written among the queer and undescribible. In the horror when one would try to describe the dream from morning's sleep; it would be a horror written inside that is guilty as charged -- that would be the imagry of the prison guard. It would be the nightmares that would gather among the dreams of tormented angels when the fingers begin to bleed for the ink of the letters to the old man's child. Of one who would be saying the words of the old man's child should not be spoken or the nightmares inside are not to be even written, but that would be in the words that are frozen -- the dreams inside are the ones that are spoken. Of the tormenting words, of the tainted thoughts and nightmares -- when heaven would slowly reflect hell. Becoming hell within the nightmares of the backsliding; that would be among them the shunned horror would become even more vivid within their thoughts. Among the frozen would be the horror that would gather among them, creeping ever so slowly within their sleep.
����That they would be the dying sheep before they even knew that they were in the midst of a horror that they were not able to awaken from -- among the gathering words would remain in the cryptic letters. Those cryptic letters which had been inked in human blood and the being from the hand of the old man's child. The old man's child, one who no one cannot fully describe in detail and in his nightmares would be a walking enigma -- that would be written among the words; a horror that goes without any mere definition or understanding of the words. The words spoken by the old man's child. Standing within -- hiding their eyes from what they would know what the moon brings from the nightmares that are written.
���� It would be written among them when they were labelled the blamsphemer for the words in the letters that have been written. Among the unknown, queer understandings would be the fears written that would sit in the mind of the unknown horrors -- that would be in the frozen nightmares in the shadow out of time. Among them who walk -- amongst the shadows cast on the white door in a black room. In the gathering fears which rise higher with the violent fires. That would be in the forclosing thoughts that would be in the gathering congregations; amongst the horrors that would be there written, driven, crawling inside of the mind of the one who is writing the nightmares, the one known as the old man's child.


Anonymous said...

Is this supposed to mean something? Anything?

Nickolaus Pacione said...

Stealing more of my work you fAGGOT.

Anonymous said...

Nick, are you concerned about this because you're proud of your work or ashamed of it? I'm genuinely curious.

Anonymous said...

what's the big deal with folks posting your work on the internet? you said yourself in your myspace blog that your not making any money

ExposeTheTard said...

Bothers you does it Nicky?

Well if you don't want to see anymore posts like this, here or any other page that I run, then don't mention any of your enemies by name again.

Soon they will stop talking about you, and you can concentrate on just writing or publishing or managing a band whatever you do for a "living".

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