The deep chasms keep burning their thoughts into my soul. Another leftover for a new remembrance. They are always the same. Bitter. Bloody. Breakable. Gnawing deeply into the marrow. Drink of the sweet juices contained within their thoughts. I enjoy feasting upon their forgotten memories. Their old remembrances. My new pleasure. A toy to break at my convenience. A life to take to the grave. A secret to nourish into extinction. The slopes of the female form. The devastation I can provide for them. Traumatizing their embodiment. Fully. Completely. Thoroughly.
The seasons are the reasons of why you dwell here. I have seen these people within here before; looking, searching, feeling out the lopsided landscapes of their personal oblivion. The blind leading the lost; the inept following the blind. They all will eventually come here at one point during their lives; looking for what already exists inside of themselves: salvation. I do not guide them in a specific direction, as you can never guide the lost to find themselves. This is a miraculous undertaking one must accomplish on their own; a feat only the true individual can wholly and completely endure within themselves. This is the deepest, blackest, and brutal undertaking one could ever know or withstand within their lifetime. Seasons exist for a number of reasons; a reason for every reason you are alive. The seasons will always exist externally, surrounding you and I. The seasons will always exist internally, within you and I. The quiet and the instinctive metamorphosis surrounding you and I, will create, design, mold, and eventually allow you and I to become what we were always meant to be: the personification of transition. This is why I have deliberated long enough; this is why you have hidden yourself away from the others during your life. A fleeting glance into yourself. A distant voice screaming your name. A longing which will always remain unfulfilled. It is a culmination of purpose, meaning, defamation, and resilience; circling around the cesspool of your putrid animal desires. This is where it all ended for you; knowing nothing different other than what you have experienced. It is the same game you have played your whole life: the game of Chance. Soon enough, you will be out of chances; only left with the realizations of what could have been accomplished, if you were not so distracted by the distractions you artfully created for yourself. This is where that old story ends, and your new story begins. Now is where I give you the new start you have always been looking for; that new life you have been seeking, that cleansing you so desperately wanted. Here it is. It is all yours now. It is up to you if you keep it clean, or if you dirty it up before its usage. I trust you will make the right decision for yourself, as you have had a lifetime of making the wrong ones for yourself. I will give you some time to think about it; time for you to adjust to this new process, this new way of living. It can be a little daunting at first; seeing life, this game, this illusory enchantment for what it truly is. Most of the people in here have never made it out of here alive, yet I see something different in you. I feel confident you will raise yourself in the light you have always seen your potential in; a bright, glowing light, illuminating all of the external and internal seasons, from within to without. This is why I have allowed you to come in here; this is why I have allowed you to see me, my form, as I truly am. The others who have decided to come in here, they cannot bear to see my true form. I am unlike anything they have ever seen before. I am a culmination of the true light, and the true darkness; the super conscious and the subconscious combined. I am what the everlasting gaze into the unknowable looks like; an endless void into the human architype. Contrary to what you may believe, or what you may have been told; I am the true creator of this realm, I am the real reason as to why you are here, why you exist. The sole reason as to why your hands exist, serves the purpose of creating for me. Everything you create within this world belongs to me; by giving you the gift of life; in return, I shall receive the gift of creation from you. This is your true purpose, the true reason as to why you exist, why you are here.
A senseless act of consciousness. A random thought within the many sub-levels. This is when it fucks with you. Those little mindfucks seem to follow you and I around, no matter where we seem to go. A deliberate act of consciousness. Create the circumstances, which allow the blinding and deafening images to surface from within. It is not the circumstances which are lethal, but the tag-alongs and piggybacks which also surface along with it. That my friend, that is the true death, which supports the mindfucks spinal column. Another broken vertebrae. The invertebrates always seem to creep up on you and I. This is probably why you and I are the way we are.
Is this what you wanted; another circumcision for your mind? Pretty soon, you will not have anything left for the others to mutilate. It’s nothing new to you. Familiarity has always been a companion of yours. Sacrifice for the greater good, disdain, and complying with authoritarian daydreams, seems to be the movement for the sheeple towards attaining the golden star- a recognition of social status among the façade of the posers you crave to be like. How does it feel; not having enough vertebrae to stand erect? Unfortunately for you, there is no pill to ingest for that type of erectile dysfunction. I was wondering if you could help me understand; when exactly did spiritual and mental weakness become something to strive for? It seems the majority of the sheeple have succumbed to the diamonds contained within the undertow of subversion. How many of the sheeple do you think actually know what the word subversion actually means? Not one of them, as I see them living it every day of their life.
A dead end is not dead, nor is it an end. It is usually alive, dripping with the fruition of a new beginning. Isn’t a birth a death within itself? Now, I know what you’re thinking. You foolishly think this random blog post is an open door, which leads directly into the depths of my psyche. As though after reading this post, you own the true foundation of what it means to understanding myself and the rest of my kind. A follower will never have the capacity to understand an individual. You and the rest of the promulgated sheeple think the same fucking thing, time and time again. Your rudimentary thoughts and ideals are laughable. I’m not laughing. I understand your desire to be the top peck in the pecking order. You know it’s all nonsense; right? Of course you do. I mean, you wouldn’t be reading this post if you didn’t. I know you’re smarter than the rest of them; the other sheeple you blindly follow. Your intellect knows no bounds, other than the bounds of your short-sided, closed-mindedness. I understand your desire to connect and to belong. I also understand that death could be a viable option for you, perhaps it is an activity or at least a hobby you should look into. Perhaps your mirror has been lying to you this entire time, or the truth is far too lethal for you to face alone. Either way, you’re fucked.
G.G. Kalfas 