Tag: Vodka

killme-silently:

As I said I’d be doing. Dylan Klebold’s Tec-9. His gun had a company inscription on it, I wasn’t able to find a clear photo to copy the inscription, I searched the company, and still didn’t get any photos -sigh- So I just left it out. Remember like I said, it’s been 4 years since I’ve drawn, his and Eric’s guns are the first things I’ve done in sooo longggg. Thanks for looking 🙂 

VoDkA
              BLACK
I am purity. Darkness. Romanticism. Proffesionalism. Existence, Complacence. Power. Pain. Everything is black. I am everything.

REB
         Black.
I can’t see a god damn thing so what the hell am I going to write about, how I can’t see anything? My mind is black, sight is black, hearing is black, everything, so HA.

everythinginane:

Shakespearean Existences

“3-31-97
This is a wierd time, wierd life, wierd existence. I think a lot. Think… Think… that’s all my life is.

I wonder how/when i got so fucked up…
when Dylan got covered up by this entity containing Dylan’s body…

4-15-97
existence is a great hall, life is one of the rooms, death is passing thru the doors

Since existance has known, the ‘fight’ between good & evil has continued. Obviously, this fight can never end.
If people looked at History, they would see what happens.

9-5-97
Goodbye all the crushes ive ever had, just shells…. images, no tu truths… BUT WHY? YeS, You can read this, why did god [incoherent scrawl]

Ignorance is bliss
desolation is knowledge
martyrism is hope for others
death is a reprieve
people are alike
i am different

Id rather have nothing than be nothing

10-14-97

I’ll give the phony shit up in a second. want TRUE love….

Awareness signs the warrant for suffering.

11-3-97

everyone moves up
i always stayed.

The meak are trampled on, the assholes prevail, the gods are decieving

wanna die & be free w. my love… if she even exists.
She probably hates me… finds a jock who treats her like shit.

2-2-98

The hall will never end. The love will always be here.

zombies try to destroy what they don’t understand
the gods are slaves to the majority of zombies

I hoped we could have been together… you seem a lot like me. Pensive, quiet, an observer, not wanting what is offered here (school, life, etc.)
You almost seem lonely, like me. You probably have a boyfriend, though.

8-10-98

I understand that i can never ever be a zombie, even if i wanted to. the nature of my entity..
Soon we will live in the halcyons of our minds, the one thing that made me a god.

1-20-99

the pain multiplies infinitely. never stops. im here, STILL alone, still in pain.

Im forever sorry about the pornos. the masturbation has stopped
I’m sorry
I LOVE YOU

I will be free one day, in the land of purity & my happiness, I will have a love, someone who is me in a way. Someday… Possibly thru this life, maybe another, but it will happen…

Love is more valuable than anything I know. I hate those who take it for granted.
love is greater than life. My love will find me. She feels as i do right now, i can feel it. we will be inseperable. Her & i. we will be free,
to explore the vast wonders of the stars… no limits. Nothing will stop us.

I now know the final
battle. the pain of
humanity is our love…

4-15-99

the me, the one, can now control the pain, & it is done. 5 more days.

These moments will be lost in the depressions & caverns of the human books, like, tears, in, pain, but the thoughts will be eternal.
To explain the happiness is impossible.
i cant stay thinking in a 2nd dimension, i go to the 5th! haha. 5 more days. 5 eternitys.

he & i are concieved from ourselves. every night of the self-awareness journey,
we are the nature of existence. the zombies were a test to see if our love was genuine.
I love you, love.

4-19-99
One day. Its interesting, when im in my human form, knowing im going to die. Everything has a touch of triviality to it.
like how none of this calculus shit matters. the way it shouldn’t.
In 26.4 hours ill be dead, & in happiness.
HAHAHA, of course i will miss things.
not really.”

Detail in the illustration is stunning and creative.

The Gifted Mind: Dylan Klebold

thedragonrampant:


I would like to start this piece off with a thank-you to columbinethesehoes, whose reply to my quest for information filled in a very important blank I had not considered beforehand. This piece has turned out a lot longer than I initially thought it would be. It took the better part of yesterday evening and today to put together, but I am very pleased with the way it turned out. I hope it will be to your enjoyment!

“Dylan attended Normandy Elementary School in Littleton, Colorado, for first and second grade and then transferred to Governor’s Ranch Elementary School where he was part of the CHIPS (Challenging High Intellectual Potential Students) program for gifted and talented children.”

This statement is probably something we have all read before in at least one article, one interview, one story about Columbine and Dylan Klebold. The CHIPS program, as far as we now understand it, was a program you would need to be ‘pretty gifted’ for. AColumbineSite states that “it’s a safe bet that Dylan was extremely intelligent". All sources, even one (Dave Cullen) whose interpretation of the case is not always very sound, report his ‘brilliant’ mind as a standard fact. These are all statements that have intrigued me in the past. Right now, I feel it is finally time to take a closer look at what this means in terms of how we see Dylan and in how this has possibly affected the events of Columbine as a whole.

Read More

“Some god I am.” – Dylan Klebold

Untitled: Dylan Klebold

watchyoubleeed:

Okay, firstly I want to say that this has nothing to do with the crimes committed by Dylan, It is purely an analysis of Dylan’s personality through the view of his astrological birth chart. It is not always going to be correct, I didn’t know dylan so don’t take it too seriously. I have read…

This is beautifully written and, I believe, spot on. The multi-layered enigma that is Dylan Klebold.

Untitled: Dylan Klebold

Only a handful of people came to say goodbye to Dylan Klebold. His long, skinny body fit awkwardly into the cardboard casket where it would lie until cremation. His hands were folded on his chest, and stuffed animals surrounded him. His family and few friends shared memories, the happy ones about Dylan the Boy Scout, Dylan the Little Leaguer, Dylan the wrestler. There was his mother Susan’s favorite story: One afternoon, Dylan, age 10, came running back from the creek with a pile of leeches. Normally unflappable, Klebold’s mother was disgusted by her son’s blood-sucking treasures; Dylan loved it, the fun of grossing out Mom. For those who attended the service, it was as if Dylan’s life had ended at age 12, not five years later in a murderous rampage that left 12 students, a teacher, and the two killers dead, and a nation grieving and groping for answers. That wasn’t the young man Susan Klebold raised. “This monster,“ she told her hairdresser, Dee Grant, tears coming down her cheeks, “was not the son I knew.”

Exorcising the pain

US News (05-02-1999)

Good find!

A cardboard casket.. Only _5_ years later. *sigh*

thedragonrampant:

Columbine was the result of the accidental meeting of two completely different boys who happened to form one disastrous combination: one boy who wanted to commit mass murder and was willing to die to get what he wanted; one boy who wanted to die and was willing to commit mass murder to get his wish. The arrest brought them together, their culture encouraged them, their environment did not stop them.
But when they went to school that morning, the shooting no longer was what either of them wanted. Eric did not want to die anymore, but he had become what he had blustered about: an Eric-without-NBK no longer existed. The only thing he had left was to actually do it. Dylan only wanted to die himself. His cry of triumph echoed throughout the school: “Today is the day on which I die!“ If another couple hundred people had to die before his ascent to the halcyon — so be it. A few less deaths? Fine as well — it was so much fun to go crazy.

Excerpt from Wij Zijn Maar Wij Zijn Niet Geschift (We Are But We Are Not Psycho), by Tim Krabbé.

Can’t wait to read this book when it finally gets translated into English. Thanks for the translated excerpt!