You hear it and see it all the time; in movies, books, television commercials, radio, online, everywhere: the world is not a safe place. The world is not a safe place, simply because people are not safe to be around. The world is fucked up, simply because people are fucked up. Everyone is trying to kill everyone, in some form or fashion; through any means available. Where is all of this coming from, or has it been here the whole time? It has been here the whole time, only now it is socially acceptable to be socially unacceptable. Fucking the other over is the name of the game of life. This is the game the humans created, not nature. Nature uses destruction to create, as humans use destruction to create profit; even if this means the destruction of all human life. What has made itself blatantly clear, is that no one cares about you, your life, or anything about you for that matter. You are not special or unique, all you are is a means to an end, for the real owners of this world. We are constantly being monitored every second of every day. We think we are having our own thoughts, but how many of our thoughts are actually are own? At every moment, we are bombarded with some type of propaganda. It is a never-ending regurgitation of forced-fed material, through a constant onslaught onto our senses. We are so used to it, we do not even notice it anymore. Our personal biorhythms, are being read, and detailed out, by all of the technology surrounding us. There will never be an end to it; this interpersonal invasion into our full being will continue to grow. This growth will eventually consume humanity, bringing about a new way of living life through a compartmentalization paradigm. Our daily lives, our personal relationship’s with other people, and the relationship we have with ourselves, are constantly being directly monitored by this invasion; all the time, every day, all day long.
Author: ggkalfas
G.G. Kalfas is an American born author and publisher. He is also the noted author of many books, which encompass his experiences within life and death, as these experiences are displayed through the subject matter of his short stories. His intention for writing these books, is to display the importance of philosophy and psychology, as they play an integral part of the development contained within the experience of the human condition. Within his development, G.G. was compelled towards music, poetry, art, philosophy, and psychology. He was also the lead guitarist in a Houston based metal band, as well as the owner of an underground art gallery. He now spends his time writing about the darkness within the human expression, while exploring the hidden knowledge contained within the depths of life, death, and what may or may not exist beyond human consciousness.
Spiritual Dissonance
Seeking out its pleasures underneath the skin of others. A permanent marking within the soul. Bending backwards within it. Snap your soul in two. A piece for me. You can keep the other half. A memento of how you used to be. Falsity at its finest. The greatest hope existing from within. Company for the shallow and hollowness. Your life companions. Devouring your peace of mind. One piece at a time. Pieces of your fragmented reality. No inner peace. Pieces of mind. Outer defiance. Self-reliance. A lost circumstance within a neurotic embrace. Searching within the defilement of a membrane. Pulsating glances. You keep looking; searching for me. One search at a time. Finding nothing to look forward to. Intentions are more fulfilling than the actual reality. Isolation station. Rejected infection. Satiety within its own processes. A look within a magick egg. Are you ready to cleanse me? Spiritual dissonance. Observance of the desire you inflict upon me. I am ready for your fleshy tongue to annihilate me. A spirit contained within my possession. The bruja and the brujo keep looking for me. I have been waiting for their embrace. Desiring their eyes to look upon me, and within me. Cleansing me of my entities. One at a time. Too powerful to release them into the world all at once. I keep my possessions a secret.
Mouths are Wide
I have never cared to trust people, as I have never fully trusted anyone to begin with. I share the part of my life I am comfortable sharing; sharing is caring. I can see all of the gray trees surrounding me. Their mouths are wide, formed in the shape of a large circle. Their teeth are sharp, somewhat clawed. More teeth than one would usually expect to find within the mouth of a tree. The trees are angry, upset with all of us. I can see their anger, slowly dripping off from their sharp, clawed teeth. The trees seek the human’s blood, as the humans sought the tree’s lumber, and their sap. The trees would approach and attack us, if they were not rooted into the Earth. I have never seen anything like those clawed teeth before in my life. It is easy to kill anything, which cannot defend itself.
Life and Death
The cravings come in the evenings most of the time, as they intuitively know how to suffocate me, in just the right way to keep me content within myself. The cravings do not come on every evening, but they are now beginning to. I can remember a time in my life, long before the cravings started; I was more at peace within myself, as I did not know anything different. When I reached adolescence; this was when I was truly birthed into this fragmented world, as this was when the Æther began to connect itself within and around me. This is also when I began to have very vivid dreams about the present, and prophetic dreams about the future. I did not know what they all meant at the time, as I was having dreams, which would take place 3 to 7 years into my future. Now, I know what the dreams are about, as I can instantly recall them, when the external catalyst occurs within the external world. When this occurs, an external action will bring forth a specific dream I had, ranging anywhere from 3 to 7 years prior. This distant dream gives me counsel, as to the specific actions I should take within the specific external catalyst I am currently experiencing. This is in part due to the Æther’s deep connection within me, as the Æther allows me to know upcoming experiences, which will be taking place within my life. This deep connection, may be strange for others, who may not have this type of connection with the Æther, to grasp at this point in time within their lives. If you allow yourself to freely open up without judgement to the Æther, you as well will also experience the great modalities contained within the information of the Expression. These cravings, which come mostly in the evenings that I was telling you about; well, they are the cravings, the desires of a deep engulfing. These cravings are rampant motions towards ascending this mortal vibrational frequency. I long to be released, and to experience the other side of the translucent veil of life and death. The translucent veil of life and death, is all encompassing, surrounding, and deep. The translucent veil of life and death, can engulf one’s entire being, from the inside out, and from the outside in. The translucent veil of life and death, is a conscious creation, as its consciousness can move through space and time, past and present; conducting itself within and through any dimension or frequency. This is what I immensely crave, this is what I immensely desire, as this is why I need to experience the other side of this translucent veil of life and death, which is awaiting both you and I.
One Kiss and Swallow of a Slit Tongue
A casual encounter, within a cyst to remember. Another doubt to be considered. Doubting you will ever deliver. A promise into the night. When we both witnessed the new moon bright. The glow shined bright upon you and I. All through that night. You wanted to try. That was all you could do. There was not enough motivation for you to sink yourself in. You were fighting and biting, in between your cut-up words. Maintaining a silence, which would never be heard. You cannot change the death within your past. The life you died in was never meant to last. Giving birth to future lies, while creating knots with your twisted tongue. Witnessing the cataclysm behind your eyes. Scarred skin you will never mend or blend. This is when the sleep sets itself upon you. Deviant nocturnal gestures. Remembrances of blissful suicides, while blossoming and blooming itself into extinction. Untying the knots, will only make them tighter. A pretty noose to match your slit wrists. Delighted blood feast. Dinning within your corpses delight. Mangled and tangled. Deliverance within forgiveness. Hail the western winds of frailty. Seeking their lusts from within your enchantingly tainted womb. The growling and howling. Mating call of the tomb. Impregnating its hollowed sacrificial tendencies. Regrets never tasted. Used and destroyed. This hand knows your blame. A shame you sought out. It slit your throat. Twice. Not deep enough the first time. This is when I will use my other hand. This is how they know your blame. The blood remembers, as the mind is forgetful. Including me. Our defamation. The subtleness within the way we quietly kill one another. The embrace of chains upon one another’s chest. A glistening glow of the reached for torment. Simple variations of killing within beauty’s garden. One seed at a time. One kiss and swallow of a slit tongue. Feeling and feeding the inside of your mouth. Paralyzed cries. Servitude within your bleeding thighs. A reality we have both fantasized about. The inner breeding of bondage. Longing for its suffocating embrace. One at a time.
G.G. Kalfas 