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The demonic etheric
Anyway, on the verge of throwing up my own site about the demonic fields (Ahrimanic and Luciferian forces) which have been growing in strength [go ahead, Khet, tell your theory on where Hitler’s soul juice went to] and opposition to the Good Guys [the Authorities and their numbers, who cannot intervene except when one knocks on that door and approaches without fear], I have been researching earlier mention of these etheric entities which we live alongside, and who milk us for our etheric energy.
mad infestation…
the breakdown was mutual… the manacles set upon the wrists… the diseased mind permeates the foul and sanctified heat of resistance… the stink of awareness from the outside world revealing the madness within this maelstrom… the dripping and gooey internal structure fairly teeters with the substance falling from the ceiling… you raise your eyes to notice that stalagmites extend downward toward you, and this pit seems far too small… to express your way out of a paper bag is nothing so intense as performing your way out of a jagged hole inside your heart… this is where things have been taking place of late… the mind becomes far too tight and constraining upon itself to be of any real use… the music is alive, though, and there are few who would wish to see it… this other necessary entity …
few things…
please me more than a sense of rhythm, a thing that lends itself over to anything, and still makes depth appear where none might have been visible before… the shallow now does not seem hollow, and rational senses give way to following the music… whether classical or rock-inspired, the muse is never far from the thoughts of all who really appreciate the gift that music can bring… this thing that moves the soul to and beyond the gathered status quotations… a haunting melody is not always the necessary key to the forgiving weight of instant gratification… sometimes it is the momentum of a repetitive rhythm that lends to freedom of mind the most… that freedom of movement we all require in order not to feel as though our actions are controlled by others who don’t even know us… if …
a thoughtless repose?
the crawling understanding of feeling undermined by the ego of your friendly allies, and taking the time to make that movement deeper into your skin.
how to smash the mirror…
out of Context;
‘the descriptive factors of words defying gravity of stone…the rock and the words are one and the same Here…the battery makes motion happen…stored energy will allow “stone” to sling, trebuchet-style, through the mirror…glory creates its own intrigue…the hands of those that will give relations evoke a symbol calling the angels down into reality like water in the streets…the closest return and rot…’
random Quote of the Day
‘Senators leap up and bray for the Death Penalty with inflexible authority of virus yen…Death for dope fiends, death for sex queens (I mean fiends) death for the psychopath who offends the cowed and graceless flesh with broken animal innocence of lithe movement.’
the Critical Mass
Who are these people? The ones who drift in and out of people’s lives to warp another’s views for a lifetime. There are those who debate as to what meaning the identity of others applies to their own limited fascinations. Each unto their own wealth be it in knowledge, or of the physical matter, something limited by the almost-pointed obsession with a certain facet of ideal obstruction. The eyes have a limited sense of sight to be able to see things closely while the unknown cries out far away. They push our buttons whether it is to succeed or fail, but always in mind to advance the overall progress, the whole unlimited. I despise the ones who defy the interest of all the others in the place, who mock what it is to …