ghxsts bio picture


Welcome to my blog!

Hello my name is: Icicle Audacity. All I see are ghxsts. I'm the misguided stride for self improvement - a sadistic, futuristic machine. A hollow cold emitted through vibrant lights, it’s a warm as wool winter but I’ve got a chill I can’t shake. This is what I am & I think I’m fine in my own misguidance. My bones are frozen, my marrow has turned to ice - my body is just a body, a corpse without a head. I'm just a vessel & my brain has long been dead.

Dylan McAmmond
En Vogue Photography

"That's really the only thing that matters to me, is that I make art for a living. And if I make art for a living... I win."

Let the revolution begin

I often hear people talk about their lives, their failures and their accomplishments. I’ve noticed that most people tend to dwell on the failures, the things that went wrong, rather than the accomplishments, the things that went right. I am no saint; I have at times done the same thing. It’s part of the world we live in, to be judged for how we’ve succeeded and failed, but that doesn’t mean it’s the right way to live.

It’s okay to look at your mistakes, because that’s how you learn, but if you look only at the mistakes, then you aren’t learning anything, you are simply repeating the same things over and over. You start living a life that is completely negative, and if you continue to live that way, you become a negative, a mistake, and you don’t realize what you’ve done until you hit rock bottom and don’t see a clear way to save yourself.

By the same token, only looking at your accomplishments leaves you always thirsting for more, you are never satisfied, nothing is good enough, and in the end, you face the possibility of being just as empty, just as mistaken, as those who only think in the negative. Your life has also ceased to have meaning, if not to you, then to everyone around you. Life is a succession of moments; all tied together, all based on the choices you have made. Failure to see these moments, to enjoy them, to live them, takes away their meaning, and yours. Live each failure, each accomplishment, take it for what it is and move on to the next moment, stop dwelling on past failures and accomplishments, because it’s how you deal with these things that really makes you who you are.

Live each day for its self, and for you. Find the peace and beauty that surrounds you and revel in it. Feel the rhythm of the world around you, and become part of it. Understand your place in life, and do the best you can to fulfill that place. We each do have a place, even though it can sometimes take a lifetime to realize what that place is.

We are all here, we are all alive, some are happy, some are sad, but we are all here, together. Every day holds the potential to be the greatest day ever, simply because we are alive. So many miss this little thing, they feel that “living” means accomplishments, being better than everyone else, rather than just being alive, and being the best that they themselves can be. Personally, I live for the moments, because they make life worth it. My life has meaning because it does, not because of anything, or things, that I’ve done. My life has meaning in spite of the things I have and haven’t done. The past and the present are the days of my life where things are constantly changing, constantly rearranging. I change the world simply because I am in it, everyone does, and because of that, everyone’s life has meaning, everything we do changes the world. So rather than ponder what could have been, and what might be constantly, live your life, and live it out loud.

bring your drugs, I can bring my pain

Couldn’t see the sun, storm clouds loaded without a gun. Thunder struck winds, begin to blow shadows – the battle has just begun. The summer time, prime time, cable line-up, light up faces, fatal places. For our minds to scurry on their way: Avoiding the day, missing clamour, avoiding the beauty, avoiding the glamour – refusing the laughter of a child’s most innocent thoughts. This is the premise for the next war missing the plot and I wouldn’t want to blame you for the hell you’ve created. It’s undebated that I’ve fostered many footprints, for the future to fossilize and forego any notion – that I was anything but a small and insignificant ocean. You burned the world down and watched it smoulder as your laughter was repeated by the parrot on your shoulder.

The world is colder, cataracts in the eye of your beholder. Tearing up as the red in your vision is getting bolder – what’s to come?

seven thousand day cough

“We’re oft to blame, and this is too much proved, that with devotion’s visage and pious action we do sugar on the devil himself.”

If you listen close enough you’ll hear bombs falling spiraling through the sky. Deep down there’s a million words confused inside my chest stuck and getting lost struggling to find a way to explain the way I feel and say them with honesty. Like how I don’t understand how a country can rest their peace and future in the hands of a single man with secret plans and private quarters making moves on a digital GPS system while we stand in lines with our flesh and blood to build a wall and stop these bullets from hitting home. Why we sacrifice our bones to follow the words and when our leader says lay down in the dirt in the coldest place on earth we wait for him to say if we can get back up again. Our blood now pumps itself through the dirt and maybe one day these fragments of bone will be re-constructed and put in a box. Our cemetery will be a museum for the news. Our bodies will still be haunted with the words of you. Waiting to ascend our spirits still progress and move in line to the voice of dead generals whose hearts never knew anything other than war… We march to the voice of men who know no difference between life and death. At the command of men who don’t know a difference between guilt and regret.

They don’t feel anything.

Zara - Thanks for putting reality into perspective.May 3, 2011 - 12:53 am

My conscience don’t hold a grudge against my impulse.

“Hold on to what you believe in the light, when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight”

It’s not always easy to keep a clear conscience. Sometimes it’s hard enough just to go to work. Say hello to the rest of your life. We as people need change. With change we need responsibility. Honesty is not something I see much of these days. It looks more like a mask. One that doesn’t seem to fit a lot of people. But you have to give those credit who attempt to put it on. I think our ego’s take up too much space. Or we’re stacking mask after mask. If I touch your face it feels like plastic. There is no blood running through it. Maybe that’s why I get so ecstatic when I touch ones face that feels like skin.

It’s like jumping into the largest ocean on planet earth. Immersed in the sensation of life. Truth can be a dangerous thing to fall victim to. It can come to you at any time. Find you in that ocean no matter where you are and grab you by your ankles. Stuck in one place it’s just a matter of time before it hits you. People will remember that night like it was their own lives that ended. They will only be able to say “It just exploded. It exploded into thousands of pieces. Like shards of glass dancing to the bottom of the ocean. Shining in the light of the moon”. It will remind you how much you miss the way old songs woke you up in the morning. Or how quickly autumn turns into spring and you just wish you took the time to catch the scent of fallen leaves.

It’s the greatest sense of detachment; it’s why we hang onto things that make our hearts beat. I would rather cut myself loose then submit myself to the road rash that’s ahead to come. A rib cage can only protect you from so much.

We all in the end still need something we can “love” with. With everyone I know and their past they’re already left with such a mangled meaty muscle that’s hardly pumping blood. That’s what gives us such a great sense of disaster. When you love something enough but are left to face with the facts that not all things can feel the same for you. You can’t live your life with the knowledge that the one thing that makes your heart beat can’t feel it. It will leave your own blood on your hands. Chasing such things feels like ripping your skin off yourself. Shedding yourself down to bone to see how certain you are.

Sometimes shedding yourself seems like the only way to show this person how to truly shine. But your vision is not always shared and often doesn’t mean shit. It is appreciated but not all things can be accepted.

Every word and emotion is grown from something.

mindless clatter & clutter

“You got a dream, you gotta protect it. People can’t do something themselves, they wanna tell you that you can’t do it. You want something? Go get it.”

“She insists she’s in love with me – whatever that is. What she means is she prefers the senseless pain we inflict on each other to the pain we would otherwise inflict on ourselves. But I’m not afraid of that solitary pain. In fact, if I don’t strip myself of all this clatter and clutter and ridiculous ritual, I shall go out of my fucking mind.”

Where it clips it burns, when I face it, it turns. The smoke in your eyes keeps you from feeling your life – heavily medicated & fully dedicated to your perfect lie. We’ve watched it burn down like the empires fall. . .Come crashing down without sound, you won’t be missed at all. What you asked for you got, your seat’s gone from warm to hot and every other eyes you avoided to see is breaking down what you pretended to be. I hope you burn this time. He just tried to swallow his pride. Forsaken, he asphyxiated & died and every other silent hero was buried alive. So go on & take a bow, brace yourself all hell is breaking loose now. He continues to take and never allow, you’re face is melting, your progress had turned – you put your hand in a fire then you’re gonna get burned.

So plaster on a smile & feel your heart burn, the lie through your teeth when you pretend it’s my lesson to learn but you’ll turn the other cheek because it’s not your concern. Fight fire with fire baby, ’cause now it’s your turn.

A democracy cannot be both ignorant and free

“All over the place, from the popular culture to the propaganda system, there is constant pressure to make people feel that they are helpless, that the only role they can have is to ratify decisions and to consume.”

From the ash of kindness brings particle sweetness, rising from the grave she’ll hunt your enemy tireless. Always thinking, always seeking – always seeing, always dreaming. Waving at passing cars paid to give a smile isn’t hard, smug faces driving by flipping me off don’t care I’m way too high. Naive arrogant hypocrisy we disagree this is how wars arise. Is this world so devoid of sympathy, we choose not to see or feel empathy – comfortably spiralling into ignorance and apathy. Hope is fading, economy failing, hate increasing. Everyone’s escaping rather than relating, can’t live without a few scrapes or internal bleeding. Not even these words you’re reading can guide you.

Look at you fools tripping on methadone, there’s better ways feeling numb than dumb. Man-made addictions cage your lucid freedom. Ones heavy angst courses through your veins. drugs are rushing, penetrating your brain. Questioning your hold on sanity, no more reality – The music melting into euphoric sound of melody. How do I get this intense rage I’ve built outta me!

Let the truth be spoken, words are not yet broken. Smokes filling the lungs, the people are choke’n! Forget religions, racisms, and nations dividing – we gotta work together and stop all the fighting. I rather not follow secret truths that should be lies, who the fuck’s to blame when evil survives? Dictators dictating the pain and cries, we’re all the same in death’s eyes.

What would you do if you saw fires beyond your white picket fence? People hurling molotov cocktails at Walmart, your awareness is still dense. Anarchy will rise when governments cease to recognize voices aren’t meant to be silenced or categorized.

I can’t shape the world as much as it shapes me, we all need to inspire each other to break free. The day of revolt opens minds for no one knew they were buried in their Governments blood money. Media broadcasting fear, twisting what’s true. Something’s brewing.


“I guess I’m built to be intoxicated with hope – sometimes it’s a journey, most the time it’s just a bad joke”

It’s nearly 4 A.M. and I’m so very sick, see – it’s hard to fall asleep when there is no relief in your dreams. It’s just minor thoughts to me, all these degrees are just barely on my mind, this time, I can show it to her – I can find, some time, I can make this shit burn. Everybody thinks that I just sing for play, well, all you motherfuckers better heed and make way.

vår kamp

“This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time.”

The sun sets quickly whether fun is had or not – time never stops (with the exception of broken clocks). We’re always moving, steadily backwards or forwards. . .working towards some life goals; aspirations are assorted, contorted, distorted by individual perceptions. What lessons there are to learn have always been there since conception – discretion is advised if you choose to view the wayward steps others have chosen to persue along their life lines, no point in fightin’ time; all that does is help attribute a mighty hefty fine to your mind.

Always ageing,
always changing,
always rearranging,
and misplacing – but never erasing.

“You buy furniture.  You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life.  Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you’re satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you’ve got your sofa issue handled.  Then the right set of dishes.  Then the perfect bed.  The drapes.  The rug.  Then you’re trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you.”

“You’re not your job.  You’re not how much money you have in the bank.  You’re not the car you drive.  You’re not the contents of your wallet.  You’re not your fucking khakis.  You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.”

existence PT II

I sure hope that you hear me speakin’ – I don’t know if I can go another weekend without these thoughts leakin’. . . their way onto another page inside my notebook, so take a close look at the memories within the pictures that my soul took.

Contentment, mingled with a semblance of actually feeling whole because of somebody’s existence.

Defenceless – time to admit, I’m the culprit, I’m bloody guilty; kill me for the sins I’ll commit in the future if the ones in the past aren’t sufficient – I’m already imprisoned by my own decisions.

You can’t help it; this is your existence.

been to hell

The weather reflects my minds’ endeavors as I get together to research the now and find out if it leads to forever. The temperature’s unreadable; but my mind is now unbeatable – I’m too old to fold due to the cold; hell, it’s greetable, because I’ve never in my life understood just why I fight to live in this pressure – suit existence when I’m shown resistance. By all of lifes’ admittants; I’m simply tryin’ to go the distance, so if you want to criticize me, stand behind me, you hindrances. I’m used to different opinions because I know a lot of factitious sons of bitches who think that they can make a difference in my interests – nonsense: this style of surreptitious defiling annihilates your attempted finesse.

best of times, the end of times.

“Your blindfold is on tight, but you like what you see. So follow me into the night, ’cause I got just what you need. We’re all rollin’ down the boulevard, full of pimps and sharks – It’s a motherfuckin’ riot, we’ve been dying to start. You better grab a hold cuz now you know your falling apart, you thought these streets were paved in gold but they’re dirty and dark.

A man of many words, but of few deeds. In the belly of the beast, I’m a wolf amongst sheep.”

Unparrelled in the truthes that I reap; two hundred stories deep and I still quantum leap from one end of literature unto the other – no other motherfucker walks the ground I’ve covered. Gone undiscovered like a diamond in rough, I’ve seen my share of hard times, but I still haven’t had enough. Still corrupt in the way that I think; still abusing ink to showcase that my style is distinct. My freedom of speech goes undetered as I swerve in & out of poetics to capture life in its essence any way that I can.

It has always been my plan to absorb as much knowledge as is allowed within a lifespan, but what would be the point to that, unless I could teach? I guess that one could say the main reason that I preach – is to show the next generation exactly what they’re facing, and warn them not to get misplaced within the haste, as I can taste the forthcoming apocalypse in the air of what’s to come, and it leaves a bitter taste upon the end of my tongue.

I’m warning you all that no matter how big or how small, problems can & will arise, so take a page from Murphy’s Law and expect the worst – because its on the horizon.

Try to keep your prayers focused on your family surviving.

It’s the end of times-
can your mind fathom
what’s to come?
Pain, fire & fear;

When you read between the lines,
are you on trial for your crimes?
If you are it means you’re already dead,
and in the end times.

City streets painted red with blood will show up unexpected where you thought they never could.

It’s best to fight now lest you rest in peace underneath the feet of those who chose to destroy the weak.


“How low can I keep pretending to be? That all the stars in the sky could mean something to me. Heaven will open up if I live on my knees. A man of many words, but of few deeds.

Leave the virtue of pity, but we live with the shame. So scared to dream in a world with no sunlight. When you wake up, you know it’s darker than last night. Quickly we forget, sacrifice gone by. Born to walk away, been walking my whole life.”

Misery ’round the world is so well known, not so much to the kings but to the peasants below. ‘Cause that’s what we are in the mind of the law, forefathers grave-spinning as they drop their jaws – like they drop our jobs, kick us out of our homes. When we get too sick and old they tie us down in the road, insurance isn’t given to those who need it most. Waiting in a prison for the fate of other ghosts, where the world can forget all of those who died. The nightnurse smells of death, standing at your bedside – repress the youth and suppress the old.  The system puts its victims in a permanent mold, but what can we do with our limited freedom but be slaves to the grave in our capitalist kingdom? The shit you spin is merely verbal masturbation – How’s it feel to be the leader of a hypocritic nation?

We’re only as free as they tell us we can be, well I’m pretty fuckin’ sick of this hypocrite’s democracy. A fist to the air brings a bullet to the knees, to the rabid Machine, serving Lady Hypocrisy. We’re only as free as they tell us we can be, well I’m pretty fuckin’ sick of this hypocrite’s democracy. A fist to the air brings a bullet to the knees – to the rabid Machine, serving Lady Hypocrisy.

There’s lead in the bed where your children sleep and a family is fighting to find something to eat. Bosses gotta cut costs, ’cause Cadillacs ain’t cheap, so they send it ‘cross the sea where it’s basically free. Expenses may be cut but so are jobs – you can put up a wall, but you’ll still be robbed by the Man who defends you, who one day’s gonna end you. Slaves to the Machine are gonna break and bend you.

Suffering is fine, just so long as it’s not mine. That’s the world we’re living in, the nation so divine. I’ll rage against the president, the government, and more as long as they’re still bringing down the nation I adore.

Suffering is fine, just so long as it’s not mine. That’s the world we’re living in, the nation so divine. I’ll rage against the president, the government, and more – motherfucker, hit the lock, because the rage is at your door.

Zara - Truth.March 23, 2011 - 10:02 pm