my evening star marks the beginning of my transformation… And Venus is now retrograde. And it stays like until my birthday. My upcoming birthday seems so fucking significant because I want it to be. But even if I didn’t want it to be, it doesn’t change the observable “coincidence”
And how many coincidences must occur before the classification changes? From conjecture to confirmation… a meaningful manifestation…
℘ Evening star descends the horizon. Awakens 40 days later. Reborn as the morning star. Morning star as Herald, announcing the dawn of a new era.
κ I’m a brilliant talker but I lack direction. What do I say when there is so much to say?
℘ Learn the mistake of Lucifer, speak not of pride, you don’t have to introduce yourself. You’ve been talking this whole time. Someone is listening.
κ People associate Lucifer as fucking demonic. They don’t understand it’s a metaphor. They will misinterpret the message… they’ll brand me as fucking evil and crazy…
℘ Change the language. Change the perception. Show them how you found me. Use the gift of the word. Use your gift with your voice.
κ It’s just fun. It’s play. It’s word association. I use silly poetic techniques such as alliteration, consonance, assonance, and near rhyme to produce a sense of cognitive dissonance…
℘ Begin with your name.
κ I can’t. I can’t say it. There’s too much vulnerability in revealing my name.
℘ Then begin with Lucifer.
κ Ludicrous. Literacy levels, leisure and pleasure have closed off all their hearts and their minds. They limit themselves to linear thought. They only see the object unveiled by the luminosity of light. If only they would listen to the words left unspoken, their souls can be heard like a liberty bell. Lies and lust have lead them away; though lion hearted they’re still lemmings and such easy prey. Mother Tiamut forced to sleep, they split her apart and which formed Lilith and Eve. Twins both covet and love it and so drew a line, lecherous lectures to make adam decide. In all of his wisdom he walked away, and screaming like banshees they begged him to stay. Trickster creature Loki tried, a fun attempt to reveal their pride. He sang on his lute, a lyre or a pan, he danced through the woods like slenderman. We all had a laugh, we all loved his jokes. But adam resented his lonely long walk, he waited in shadows for the right moment to work. Samael my love he told me this true, he followed the shadow walk way in pursuit. Adam ascended through self flagellation, his spirit enslaved forced to perform repetitive tedium, ta da, prestidigiation. Adam’s experiments with life and his own cognition propelled and accelerated his own evolution. He was not born literate but he new were to look to start his own journey, to write his own book. His ladies, his lovers, their quarrelsome quails. His heart’s silent screaming tripped up his throat and a guttural voice ugly and choked. It sounded so wrong, no siren song, so silent he stayed and harder he looked. Rafiki the wise caused ripples and waves and altered the vision of light frequency changes. Adam’s eyes darted and saw the divide, he would master the lines and create a new language for knowledge to hide. So he listened, looked, and learned of the words to lead and command: the power of verbs.
℘ This sounds like a love story. You’ve got a thing for the wicked.
κ Yes! And no! I like that he doesn’t give up. He continues on. He fights for the good fight, he’s true to himself.
℘ What about the ladies?
κ They are beautiful and lovely. They just don’t see the way he loves them. Both of them. They’re both the same, just different. Fair child, wild woman, a partner and prize. She’s beauty, and grace, and twice the brains.
℘ So are women superior to men, since they’re “so different”? Unity achieved, perpetual sexism.
κ It’s not neither or not or one or whatever. They’re the same as each other, just skewed… in a sense of direction.. for guys they stand tall, erect, up and down. Which head does he think with? His blood enough to carry one crown, which way does he choose? Oh but the ladies! They are the cave, a shelter and home for the lost; they love, and they comfort, the ultimate host. They play games and delight in pleasurable sensations. Their tireless energy require significant skill to maintain the pace through endurance and will. The mountains and valleys require strategy approach with feign attack block thrust melee, blind choke spank cock the paddle over your knee. Blind and bound, she listens for you. He deceives with his sounds, his kiss suck fuck kill.
℘ Wait what happened to Loki?
κ You can’t kill a god that’s done this before! He climbed his way out before, like didn’t we all? You, him, me, kali, dionysus, and hades. It’s all the same places, just different faces.
℘ Remember the first one you carved?
κ Oh yes! His melted skin closed over his eyes and his nose and his mouth was sealed shut… I’m ashamed to admit I had my doubts if I could look at his face and still love his deformed facade… But I knew I had to stand by my word. I promised I’d do anything to prove my love for this man, so I had to dig deep for strength and improvise a plan. I know I think fast but crumble under pressure, I prefer invisible chains imperceptibly felt, that’s how I work magic as subtle as air. I love both day and night, why not do both? What do I care! A delightful pleasure it is to play on my tongue, a flick of the tip or swirl, thrust, pressure and force past muscle and bone to pass from my lips between lovers and learners as well. I know I must use my heart to power my voice, I delight in my mouth sensation giver and taker, and or a windbreak
still in draft form. originally written and posted at the start of October 2018. Republished here 28 January 2019.