Life. Ever so precarious and vulnerable.
Full of twists and turns. Lessons to be learned, in order to assist and in order to cause pestilence.
Your thoughts take form through the art of manifestation.
From Belief to a Fact you see. From a single idea to a construct that maintains a status quo amongst though of us that inhabit our collective reality.
It is here that we shall share an elixir and break bread. Share tales of those that still live to this day alongside us and stories of the invisible dead that float above our heads.
Where we decide between action and the opposite in order to shake the foundations that limit us and our kin. Conquer the fear of the unknown or allow the pain of limited decisions to take root within. For there is no secret to life, dear friend; it simply is what you make it.
Decide now if you ever will, between living through beginning to end or to be guided blindly through the sheep pen. Alas, I know what I have done. If history repeats itself and I follow suit without following the wisdom that I have gained through pain and sorrow then insanity may have caught up to me once more, in fear I decide to run, even as it pursues closely.
What is it, the path that we all tread? Is it purposeful and suitable for the imaginary heroism that dwells within each and every one of our heads?
Tell me why we chase the game that feigns the ideal of happiness and chains us to a life of benign pain, one that sucks out an ounce and bit by bit, you realize in the end you have not a single bit of spirit you can lay claim to, the mechanical kingdom has in fact staked and mapped out every piece of it.
Your happiness. My happiness. Our love. Our nearsighted futility. Yes, maybe, in the end, it was our humility that aided in our collective fatality, negatively attached to an altruistic linguistic that doesn’t even remind you of the voice in which you chose to represent your own humanity. No, this is darkness, and it clings to both you and me.
Take my hand and we shall end the suffering, bring the battle to ourselves and disrupt the sound waves that prevent our own unity.
I saw the blood. I saw the ember. In a way, the flesh and bone smoked in such visual performance that it is a moment that I can no longer remember.
That was my first casualty, turned out that it was also me.
Endless repetitions and a thousand Sun god’s begging a million moon goddesses for healing and reconstruction would not nearly be enough to resurrect me. At this moment you see, one that provides clarity, it is clear to me, that this entire course of action is both a comedy and fallacy.
For I hold no cards. I can’t tell the future. I am no soothsayer. I’ve never screamed hallelujah. I can’t say that I am a nemesis, nor can I lay claim to the role of universal protector.
Detect the edging character that seeks to possess my manifestation, at least guess the name, for I would never neglect her. Entry, Password is now required.
Care to make amends simply so that you may be granted entry? For the sentry is watching carefully, there is no easy way to break on through to me. As I am a centaur, an extinct species.
I am an avatar of both the Holy and Heresy, I suppose that is why in fact, I, among billions of other cells, represent the totality of this figment of Humanity.
Tell me why, once again, that I don’t seem to align with the futility?
Show me a sign, and I’ll show you the meaning of dispersing energy.
Thanks for reading. Praying that you are doing well and moving forward in your life. If you enjoyed this piece, then share it on your social media, or just send it to some friends and family whom you believe would enjoy it as much as you did. As always, sending you Light through Love,