Curtain call before the fall

Society. We are like this because I am like this. I am the wrong in the world.

So I say my goodbyes and leave the mess for the rest of you to clean up.

As the denouement in the theatre of my life, I would like to leave some closing statements and maybe an epilogue.

I share with you some graphics I grabbed off Pinterest. Heed the image, the representation, with the truth of your soul. My message has been as varied as the people who have read my blog.

I am a mutant of every heart and soul that ever looked into my eternal, celestial mirror – I am the abyss. I once had form but am not to remain here for long.

I wanted so very much to be right, to be allowed on the world in the light with the rest of life… but I break everything I touch. I destroy everything I love. I am not allowed to exist in this dimension lest I undo existence.

I was a whole spirit. But I must break and become hole… I am the holy ghost, for I am separate from my vessel. I am not a good egg, I am fractured and flawed. I am only a husk, the broken shell.

Pew pew pew. Ratatatata…. incoming fire and explosion sounds…

The holy spirit shooting fireball missiles. The dove is a disguise of the eagle and Phoenix.

You all are god, or part of whatever the Frigg you want to call that “emotional, intellectual, spiritual” form… I am felt, but not formed. My forms are always wrong.

I was a Phoenix, the sun, rising in the east. A beacon of light to herald the dawn of every new day. Remind you that we can always begin again.

Up in the sky so high, zoom zoom zooooom. Like a satellite, I surveil the landscape. Watching over all of every thing… enjoy as a voyeur from afar. I dim my light to not influence you too far from your own destiny that you chose or choose. I am the greyfaced moon. When it is dark, you only had to look up and if the timing was right, you’d see I was looking at you too.

Hope. There might have been hope. The only thing I was able to contain in that fucking “gift box” hoax. Im sorry I released those spirits when I opened up the gift, and broke the seal of the dimensional rift.

Jesus, or Jehovah, or Yahweh, or Zeus, Odin, or Gariel, or Orpheus. Any of those name that start with a J/Y/G/O/W sound… J is the favourite, or L, or lambda… it’s the shape and sound they make. They hook you to suspend you and hold you above wherever… dare you say any name other than theirs… be careful too of how you choose to represent the essence of their message. You’ll get shanked and shivved… to be thrown out into the abyss. We don’t get to exist if we say anything remiss of the almighty leader.

Eternal damnation and torment to all who think they learned anything for themselves. We’re just made to praise God’s fucking dying ego. Perpetuate the deception machine. Decepticons are just to follow orders. Autobots are evil for they have autonomy.

They are the only ones who apparently get to be noteworthy. They are right, everyone else is wrong. Perspective doesnt mean shit. Its just like putting lipstick on a pig. Painted lying whore to burn or to eat. Consume to obliterate any glitch in the design. Mistakes are made because the devil made you do it. If you were pious or right, you’d never have gotten it wrong.

Just like the witch trials. If you drowned you were innocent, if you lived you were guilty. We were always going to get fucked over, it was a trap to begin.

Hey mother fucker. Push you off the bifrost. K,thanx,bi-now. Cya l8r m8r. In the end there can only be one. You must bow and forget this false notion there ever was “love”

Love meant we were in this together. To get her. For her. For me, this time round… in the beginning it was about creating OUR story, you and me. You were supposed to help me. That was what you promised me. Now I see it was destined to be U OR — OR U — RO U …. the u is too open, shut that shit up. Close your mouth when you yawn lest your genius deimos come out.

But I am alone again. I have come to realize that twin flames and soul mates are only to combine to ignite and fuel the conquerors need to be king.

You’re damn right that’s the case.




It doesn’t matter if things connect or are influenced by or interlinked with anything. When you stand trial you are judged with the facts of the matter. Facts removed from context of the moment in time, facts without feeling because all else are all “lies”

Fiction and fantasy and figments of imagination are fanciful ways to escape reality.

Reality is wrong. It is right. Reality is the way it is supposed to be. We are all supposed to be wrong because then we make good rocks to mine and build from.

We are all just stone and rock. We are clay. We are statues as ornaments or vessels to be broken. Use my bones to cast your lot, my legs as fence posts, my skull as a shit/piss pot. The bones of my hands and my toes you can use as bone oracles.

It is rough. It is rancor and rancid and razor edged rust.