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.
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.
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.
You cannot take any more from me. The others have taken it all away. They have left me with nothing. Empty. Hollow. Right through to the center of my bones. They even sucked me dry of my marrow. This is all I have left to display for my life’s work. You can try. Nothing is all you will find. I am sure you will even try to take nothing from me as well. Something special for you to hold on to. The sweet blistering screams. A dark serenade; existing within the soundscapes of your living imperfections. How I crave, and love to dream of your painful blackness. This has happened before. Déjà vu. On a different vibration. On a different plane. In a different reality. Your kisses are missing the point. The air is filled with your kisses. The loving pain of their sweet annihilation. You will miss my last kiss underneath the midnight eclipse. There never has been any type of moral or motivational support. I do not know what morals would ever mean to you and I. Painting the feeling. With blood and bone. Dreaming the tearing. With sand and razor blades. Killing the willing. Subservient sacrifice. It is all the same to me now. There are too many questions being asked. Oblivion tastes sweeter than an unconscious confusion. This is what you have created life to be for yourself. Another chaos. Another cesspool. Another floor; feeling the delicate caress of your knees dropping to it. A new path you will follow. Better than the old one. A change of scenery. It is the same path you were on before. Leading to your apocalypse. Only the names and the people change. The paths never do. I saw how it came to this. How you strangled the love right out of yourself. Choking it to death. Asphyxiation fetish. There will always be someone to help you with that. Helping hands. If you do not appreciate the sights you have seen. You will never be able to understand the words painted upon it. Nor the bloodshed, which took place to create it. They broke you in two when you were young. Too young for open eyes. Too young for open thighs. Open thighs within a surprise. These types of surprises will get you killed. One way or another way. One cell at a time. One memory at a time. One lifetime at a time. Another way out, while you were looking for another way back in. Your body survived. Partially. Your psyche was shattered beyond repair. There is no mending for a broken soul. Carnality will preserver within the sub-human conditioning. Perverting your systemically impoverished mental capacity. One insertion after insertion at a time. Though, your mind did not make it. Slowly losing your spirit along the way. Along with your other sacred virtues, you desperately wanted nothing to do with. Your eyes see the same sights. A blinding moonlit night, which you will remember. Full moon rituals within romantic residuals. Slowly killing your shapeshifting ideals away from you. This is how collecting morals would eventually look, as they would be safely protected in your hidden treasure chest. A discerning type of forgetfulness, which simply allows a false pregnancy to be birthed into the world. Devouring and deciding the rest of your life for you. The romantic choices, which have been stripped away from your life. I know you have always been able to see me; denying your insightful spectrums. A life without me in it. Another pain you can embellish upon. Another opportunity to bleed yourself dry in. One last slit wrist. One last painful bliss.
The specific way a broken tongue is gently stroked, is the same way a face of disgrace washes itself clean from its daily routine. The needle will drain itself dry, pushing its illusions away, deep into the soul of your lost control. There is no soul, when a life reaches the point of no return. Sometimes, but only sometimes; I enjoy tearing the veil for those who need it, not wanting it. Forced oblivion, can be a delicious delight. The taste and the smell are never too much, or too soon. A forced penetration. Your apricots wither within the cycle of their drowning menstrual stream. I am fascinated by how quickly your lips turned away from me, as though you have never tasted death before. A stranger within your flesh; seething while striking down the teasing tongue. Salvation within the fleshy salivation. Remembering the bleeding cherries on top of your stomach. I liked how the blood ran down your side; permanently staining your chastity within the threads of your neat, white sheets. The floating fear within your penetrating stare, knowing I would be the permanence within your life; haunting your living and dying days for the rest of your unnatural life. This is what you and I wanted from one another; a deep longing, a deep connection, carving itself into our elastic connective tissue. This is the raw carnality, which permanently binds you and I together. Only time can remember the first caw the crow made, on the first day of our creation. You are the external stranger I have always known, as I have always been a stranger within the external world. I have glimpsed into it a long time ago, as I was curiously witnessing it floating past me on a daily basis. I quickly became blinded; strangling myself, trying to see beyond the vultures inhabiting its lusting domain. This is why I have created my external world internally. No joy or excitement can exist within a world of vultures; constantly ripping and tearing the flesh from bone, simply because they feed off of a lack mentality.
Sometimes words can mean nothing to the others. In truth, words mean everything. Words ultimately create life. The others do not understand the meaning of the spoken word. Perhaps this is due to the fact so many words nowadays, have very little meaning. There are also words contained within physical books, which were used at one point to read. Today, many of the others use physical books for aesthetic decoration, not necessarily for the purpose gaining knowledge from the words contained within these writings. These others are New Age aesthetic charlatans, as they pander themselves tirelessly and aimlessly; cultivating their pandering charade within themselves, in order to properly suffocate the masses, they surround themselves amongst. These others enjoy living and breathing on top of one another; feeding off of one another’s energy, just as energetic cannibals would: everlastingly. This is the devolution within a select species, who’s entire design is to systematically annihilate one another through energetic means. These devolving cannibals, propagate and spoon-feed their technologically enhanced ideologies onto one another. Given their aesthetic décor, this also enhances their likeability through acceptance. These devolved aesthetically pleasing energetic cannibals, lack the fundamental capacity to properly articulate their words, thereby using technology as a crutch, and also as their only true means of communication with one another. Some of the others would consider this type of technology as the human evolution, an advancement within the species. When technology hinders the capacity within the human experience, such as; not being able to think for yourself without the use of social media, and not possessing the social skills to articulate words, as most communications have now become electronic, it is easy to see the unification of a fundamental devolution. Lastly, not having the ability to learn or to gather information, without the use of this all-knowing and all-seeing technology, is the global and generational threshold, which we are currently witnessing and experiencing at this very moment in time. Many people will never know the experience of being a human being, as we seem to be living in a backward motion at a high rate of speed; steadily devolving our way back towards the amoeba stage of our human development.
