PAGAN 3 "The Lazarus 'Zine"

THE
LAZARUS
ZINE
PAGAN VOL.3
A thesis on human
consumption
illustrated
.eskt.
Contents
1. Gold Eagle vs The Iron Bear vs The World
2. Morning, son
3. 1984 will never ever happen
4. The world wins
5. Does canvas dream of acrylic sheep
contact:
liluglyoracle@gmail.com
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Dont need their

attention, thanks for
the fish
Left the cube by the
door, made room for
some chips
Headed for the finish,
Im running all these
laps
Competitions huddled, tryna catch their
breath
Zombie sewer lurkers
resemble rabid rats
The paths on my map
are so dark and damp
Dungeon, cavern,
catacomb creeping
My eyes are red like a

goddamned demon
You act like the devil,
but Im the real heathen
Scleras stained from
all my fucking chiefing
I tried to forget,
looked for every
reason
My heart is frozen,
youll see when I open
I am an omen for
world controlling
I get dome once they
leave me on my own
So Im well educated
and let my mind roam

I call them an Uber,
then roll another bone
They say I lost control,
but this will lead to
where I needa go
Yah
They get scared and
dip when its violent
Me
I sit back and enjoy
the fucking rioting
Puff, puff, spirilaing
into nihilism
I wake up and hate

my life
Then I think about
yours and mines
alright
Winters barely here
Birds never flew south
No snow this year
Bones are unearthed
They say Im fucked
up and its no surprise
Once a normal kid
Chasing butterflies
Fell in love with life
Lost my damn mind
Levels are essential to
maximize your mental
So I feed my vessel exponential credentials

Isnt is stressful?
Yah,You bet bro
Gave up my weekends
Burnt most of my
bridges
Dove off of the deep
end
In search of a reason
To give up on dreaming
Anxieties concrete
Enemies are entities
concealed in disease
Thinking theyre a
threat to me
I use a noose to sleep

Your mind, inside, it
grinds and it grips
Nothing slides, and
everything chips
Grease with drinks
and dreams of suicide
Hold
Realize the downside
of your strides
My heart stopped when I was born

Thankfully, my spirit performed
Too fresh, man, I think that was the reason
I approached the cosmos, suddenly a descent
Being a heathen is always in season
I BEEN HERE
It feels like Ive been here for 800 years
Sitting with dragons, studying my fears
Compressing depression
Mixing potions when stressing
Mastering alchemy wi anxiety
Expressing emotion, caressing these blessings
Temptresses professing hearts filled with emptiness
Pressing on my stitches, making sure my scars bleed
Why study linguistics when I do this like im paid
Puffing piffs, Im lying in my grave
Sipping a forty while I ignore me
I go to sleep, dreaming of loneliness and glory
Counting stacks
Counting stacks
Only in my dreams
now
Pockets were feeling
fat
Now Im feeling senial
Counting stacks
Only in my dreams
now
Remember back on
Pennywell we had
the shop open
Young as fuck
We businessmen
Apartment life
Chopping grams
See the cops, we take
a differnet door
Magician shit, turn
two bags into four
Why are we so obsessed with the hustle

Probably because
lifes a motherfucking
struggle
Pieces dont fit in this
economic puzzle
And youre left twirling your thumbs like
an asshole
Me, I dont wanna be
famous
Fuck these cliques and
all of their parties
Im not here to make
fake friends
Shit, Id rather be
dead, man
BARMECIDE
BARMECIDE
CITY LIFE IS BARMECIDE
Sitting back
im counting stacks
Selling art
just a simple man
everything I want in life
is just so damn expensive
So im headed to the top
With or without a bong hit
While the yuppies sing and dance
Gentrified, yah gentrified
Victimized to the point the birds wont fly
Skyscrapers erupting from the land we planted
6ix gods aint listening but they love the working man
Whats your fit? Starving artist? Nah, youre just a hypebeast, bitch
Never in the street, just retweet, suckling on Kanyes teet
Mooching off the culture and everyone that counters
High off endorphins you slice through the skeleton
Grinnning as you climb on in
Your new home composed of human skin
Feeling like youre on the wave, really youre just paddiling
Thinking your original when your lifes been available
Sitting high up on the shelf waiting for a rental
BARMECIDE
BARMECIDE
CITY LIFE IS BARMECIDE
Hey Tough Guy

I wonder why
That 45 in your
pocket
Couldnt beat 25 to
life
I bet when it goes
off
You bust a fat nut
The cops shout
FREEZE!
And mothers plead
STOP!
It should be easy to
hear
With those holes
beside your ear
Now tell me
Whatd you gain
from your love of
money?
Nothing but your
face plastered on
some white tees.
Simple
Humanity as a whole used to value beauty. From its celebrities to its architecture; composition and curves meant everything. Rather than black
and tough, humans valued ivory and soft.
To think that those who have a problem with authority would rather
watch the world burn while corporations, politicians and priests disfigure beauty via greed is laughable. Too many trees have been ripped from
their roots and had concrete poured down into their veins. Humanity
wouldnt have become such a formidable foe if it stopped killing what it
loved
When Hiro was a kid they told him that doodling was a waste of time
and he was going to rot his brain with all the chemicals hes ingested.
Yet he could never forget his lessons about feudal japan and its armies
of samurais. Nor would he forget the tale about a man who was sitting
alone in his house reading a book. His living room was illuminated by
an eerie green and red glow projected from a cheap night light. Armed
officers burst into his home and proceed to ransack the place. The Police
Chief confidently walks in and proceeds to drill the man on what he was
reading while he smacks the book out of his hands. Two officers then
yank him out of his chair and drag the man out of his house while the
police chief bends over and picks up the book the man had dropped.
The officer slowly brings the book up to his face and says
God didnt create books so people would get stupid ideas in their head.
Snapping back to reality, Hiro begins to mumble to himself as he shoves
his gear into a backpack Im going crazy. I dont have a home anymore
because I chose to get an art degree.
He leaves the moldy alleyway and throws his hood up, making sure not
to be seen.
He spots an old fire escape and climbs up. When he reaches the roof
he pulls himself up and over, un-slings his backpack and pulls out his
signature spray cans.
3 years. 3 whole years and all that HOPE bullshit that Hollywood
shoved down our throats is starting to taste sour.
Inside the building police rush up the interior stairwell.

This is when Hiro feels at peace, as if he is on a spiritual level that no drug
or book could bring him to. Nothing in this world could get him this
high but lots of things could bring him down.
DROP THE FUCKING CAN YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!
DROP IT!! DROP IT!! DROP IT!!
OVER THERE I SEE SOME CANS
Hiro becomes engulfed in the bright LED light of the law and from behind the light a hulking form rises and proceeds to glide forward.
Youre fighting a losing war, bwoy.
The figure added unnecessary ws to its words and a stereotypical country
twang which made it very annoying.
Awrt he spits.
Fweedumb of expression he hisses
Those are tools for the weak! Yall idiots see this shit as a method of freedom! A forma power! You wanna know what power is, bwoy? Money!
Love is not happiness. Jus because you have a voice and loyal followers
doesnt mean that youre free. When one can buy people they are truly
free!
The figure had become fully illuminated and was now face to face with
Hiro but all Hiro could see was his reflection in the Chiefs sunglasses.
Two swollen, rosy cheeks and a short nose held the reflective glasses up.
He proceeded to open his gob wide open once again
When you can threaten countries and the fate of the world rests on you
and your nukes! You are truly powerful. We dont want beauty. We dont
want your gay lil poems. The people want big homes, designer dogs and
clothes made by some stupid Filipino baby in inhumane conditions.
Officers surround Hiro and the Chief and begin closing in. Hiro watches
his options run out one by one while the Chief nods to his cronies and
they grab Hiros hands and force them behind his back.
*Click*
Hiro found it poetic how here- on his personal heaven, where he felt
most at ease, he had become shackled.
The officer poked Hiro in his chest with a finger so fat, it resembled a
sausage wrapped in dough- a pig in a blanket.
This art thing, its about emotion right? We-ell Im feelin a lil creative,
ahn I got an idea
The Officers lackeys spin Hiro around and the wall he was about to
deface stared him in the face.
If you wanna be in the books. I can make sure that your story gets written in ink!
The officer spat through the gap of his crooked yellow teeth and let out
a smug grin as he gestures to his squadron. His finger slowly drug along
his neck. A fat lil piggy wrapped so snuggly, traveling across a pimply
field covered in greasy hair. Signifying that the emperor has decided its
time for blood.
In the name of our eternal rulers: Syncrude, Goldman n Sachs and the
glorious Ol Monsanto. I hereby proclaim that God has smiled down
upon us, his glorious children! For today we smite a vessel of Satan
Damned be his audacity to believe that he has the right to freedom of
expression. Freedom is a right, not a privilege!
The chief takes a moment to let out a whole hearted SOOOOO-WEEE
Our wonderful leaders have made me judge-ah, jury-ah and-ah execution-ah. Bwoy, you walked into the wrong courtroom! How do you
plead?!?
Before Hiro could muster up an answer, hot steel pierced his flesh. As he
felt his spine being torn to shreds, blood shot out. The blood hit the wall
and left what resembeled a smiley face.
Even in death Hiro was creating.
fin.
RIP BOKMA and RIEDER
thank you
-2016 eskt-

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THE

Dont need their

My eyes are red like a

and let my mind roam

I wake up and hate

So I feed my vessel exponential credentials

I use a noose to sleep

My heart stopped when I was born

Why are we so obsessed with the hustle

Hey Tough Guy

Inside the building police rush up the interior stairwell.

RIP BOKMA and RIEDER

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