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."


Hold on to what you believe – in the light – when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight.

never better

I was always so pissed that life felt like this, always so sad that what was mine was never happy with what they had and now I see it wasnt everyone who got the best of you, but me it was me, obviously oblivious to what was really happening.

I’ve been holding out on a useless cause to a back that’s already turned and a face I can no longer shape when I close my eyes.

the brave & the snake

Up in the sky past just beneath the clouds soared 5 great planes. Each as large and seemingly majestic as the next.The boys faces shimmered with the reflection of the sun bouncing off each shiny eye. It was silent. Nothing could be heard but the sounds of the purring engines. The children stood, heads held high, eyes to the sky, in awe. Paralized by realilization… realization that they were about to be saved… or so they thought.

Moments later, viscious screams began to pummel out of the sky towards the island. As each banshee hit the island, along with it cam a cloud of smoke and flames. For these were no rescue planes. These were military planes, military bombers to be precise. The smoke from the fire must have attracted them, thinking that their small island, their recent home, had been that of a hostile outpost.

Shrapnels and bark continued to sky rocket infront of then, behind them, there was choas all around them. There was no escape. They had no way to signal the planes to halt, no where to hide and no way off the island. If they did manage to survive, it would be a short lived victory. They would end up destroying themselves either way. Just then the final bomb was released. The hiss of it breaking through the air, falling to the earth was, for a moment, a melodic whistle. The children stood calm, the panic had died, all the was left was the song of freeflight. Their watchful eyes followed it through the air not letting it out of their sights until impact. Bullseye. The bomb hit dead center in the middle of the group sending one final blow to the earth…

…And then there was calm. The beast had won.


“I would love to believe that when I die I will live again, that some thinking, feeling, remembering part of me will continue. But as much as I want to believe that, and despite the ancient and worldwide cultural traditions that assert an afterlife, I know of nothing to suggest that it is more than wishful thinking. The world is so exquisite with so much love and moral depth, that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there’s little good evidence. Far better it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look death in the eye and to be grateful every day for the brief but magnificent opportunity that life provides.” – Carl Sagan

no where ta’ go but up

I have no idea why I do the things I do and quite frankly I’ve tried to find some ounce of satisfaction in knowing that the only constant in my life will always remain the lack of understanding of my own actions and the actions of those around me. I kill myself daily and walk every step as if it were my last, but not through living life to the fullest, but rather only in the sense of consciousness that it very well could be, and at times probably should be. I am that ray of sunshine that could never shimmer. I am the ray of sunshine that upon finally reaching the earth was too late to nourish growth and is instead forced to witness the death of everything that countless sleepless nights were spent fantasizing over. I am the ray of sunshine that from a distance brings hope and happiness… hope that will never see the light of day. The blackest blood and the coldest heart.

Today was a day of realization, a day of re-realization, and a day of inspiration. The last while has taught me a lot. About myself, about my friends, about my “friends” and about the opposites. I’ve tied a lot of friendships, and broken others, but throughout it all I’ve shut myself away from just that: myself. In turn, I’ve shut myself off from everyone around me and lived as a shell of who I am, what I could be, and what I want to be.

The last little while I’ll lived a life free of passion and essentially wandered with diluted heart searching for something that was there all along, slewed and scrambled under my nose. I’ve missed out on so much in every sense of my life, right down to a the sensation of emotion, since the beginning. None of which were by choice, really… but most by reaction. I’ve locked away so much in an attempted defense that in turn, broke me far more then any single action/situation could have. Not everyone builds up walls to keep people out, rather, hoping someone’s willing to break them down.

Here’s to new beginnings. Here’s to that re-ignition of passion and inspiration in my life. It might be a late start, but better late then never.

Ash - Love this.December 8, 2010 - 9:00 pm

never get me

People always have to poke at everything. You do what you do and you do it well because you do it the way you want it to be done.


So take your crooked smile and drive it back into your world, I never thought a heart could beat so fucking cold. Head in the clouds, stuggling for air  – you’re flying solo in a history written in pairs. Life tied to death, love tied to hate – we’ve all got our problems, but you’re waiting out a fucking race. So stand amongst yourself in your ghost town of a shell, searching for your hour, when your time’s already up. You broke your spineless back for the acceptance that you crave.  You think you’re high and mighty? When in fact you’re just riding our wave. Life tied to death, loved tied to hate – we’ve all got our problems, but you’re waiting out a fucking break. And since when did growing up mean fucking up?  You think you’re high and mighty? When in fact you’re just riding our wave. You won’t last long so pack your fucking bags.

I can hear your words but they don’t mean a thing.

Nathan Jacobson - There is hope in the thought, and hope is much needed, under the dark clouds which lower above the horizon.June 2, 2012 - 5:55 am


the truth will send you falling

This cataclysm is cracked, old & dusty, its hues of fire and ember, charcoal and ash – predictable. I want an end only in the shades of amethyst, jade & sky candy blue. Glowing much like bubbles across the horizon, ravaging & popping in child like glee & desire. Enormous toddlers rolling along summer lawns, chasing after vivid spherical quarry with thundering footfall.

Maybe we are just ants —

After all.

burned every bridge over the troubled water

Fuck education for a decade and 3 years of headaches from my peers. ‘Cause now I realize I could have learned more on my own, they taught me how to know everything except my soul, which is everything I need to grow – Everything that keeps me whole.

4:56 A.M

Sanity is subjective & open to interpretation. We are parts of the same collective, warm bodies to serve our nation. They want to control your perspective & stop you from getting ideas above your station. Think too differently and you’re defective, a strange kind of aberration. Psychiatry is protective & built on a strong foundation. Your output their objective, removing all temptation. While a mirror is reflective – the mind is a combination. Understood by a mental detective & building towards total subjugation – But if my thoughts are selective, picking on a certain sensation. . .How can treatment, corrective, have any application?

She winks rainbows. . .He drinks draino.

stuck outside, looking in.

Now this might be another incident where I would have went way beyond what I should have done, but I can’t change the past and now I’m stuck in the present. At least look at where I’m coming from, instants to take a life, but days to dig your grave? Life ain’t fair but that’s just sick because I know people who’d give anything for even just a couple more minutes. Time to say goodbye, time to try and make things right. You wreck lives and now you aren’t collecting respect, rather, counting time. I’m not just talking behind bars, because it ain’t just about the crime. It’s about the reaction of the action, head below water, and I’ll put a hault to the slow climb. It’s not now a matter of say, it’s what you did from what you thought up, but you obviously can’t think without a head on your shoulders. Can’t change what happened, but I can change what happens. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good – you wreck lives.

All the tastes that I once improved from the views and the points I once tried to prove are dropped to sit awake eternally while my minds stuck on snooze. I wrench at the thought without a doubt while boredom creeps, mental drought, my mind still sleeps. Please just let me wake, create and take this semi-conscious state to reiterate this self destructive night that’s getting far too late. Dream high and sink low – I still guess even when the answer I do know, time creeps, mind sleeps, the night ticks slow.