War Lover's Gallery
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"One day the army of your country will shoot at your family and friends and they'll not feel sorry for you 'cause soldiers were made to obey orders. So arm yourself and stay away from big cities"
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This is our life, this is our destiny, this is our purpose: a sacred war, a Gothic violence.
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This is our life, this is our destiny, this is our purpose: a sacred war, a Gothic violence.
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I'm the same, and I'm always the same: obstinate, active, melancholic, determined, quiet and obsessed with perfection. This is my life, I was humiliated by everyone since I knew myself as a person, I was never anyone, but I rejected it and wanted to prove to everyone that I was no longer the voice of an oblivion. I climbed mountains, and today I'm here. Charging myself a strength that people don't charge me, striving for something unattainable, seeking perfection, having a thousand thoughts per second. I feel like my head is going to explode, I can't stop thinking, and winter corroborates that. I'm dedicated, hardworking, but I feel that this is never enough, never enough for me. I want to show results to myself and others, I try to be strong every day, but sometimes I feel like a scared child. A few months ago I was practicing boxing in a parking lot, there was blood on the floor, the air was cold. I like violence, I like adrenaline, I like insanity; that's what makes me feel in the real world; the real world is feeling every muscle in your body hurting after spending the night fighting as if you had no more energy, the real world is like looking at the blood coming out of your nose and being able to feel that it is part of you, and that you are touching the raw material of life. The real world is what humanity tries to avoid at all costs. Fighting in a parking lot, I fell to the ground and felt my hair getting wet in a pool of blood, every part of my body hurt, that day I found more beauty than I found at the Louvre
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Repost from Männerbund
Ernst Jünger on the warrior, the worker, and the Waldgänger.
The Waldgänger “can sit calmly at a table and still be a forest rebel.”
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"The hero is replaced by the calculating machine. The bourgeois spirit is the grave of heroic culture, for it measures value only in terms of utility and profit."
— Krieg und
Kapitalismus, Werner Sombart
