EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
The Homeless issue is oxymoronic, this in the sense that Hell must exist for [a] sum [of Time].
The Homeless issue is oxymoronic, this in the sense that Hell must exist for [a] sum [of Time].
Monday, January 29, 2018
Sunday, January 28, 2018
One must achieve to believe~
EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
Wish is that line of credit, of "future projected will", an oxymoron~ SM13
Wish is that line of credit, of "future projected will", an oxymoron~ SM13
EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
Oh the mighty Whore has fallen.
It was my consciousness and conscience which she hijacked with seduction, through generation.
I finally saw the truth, that I was not the only one.
More to the point, that this was in fact a big put on, a ruse, if you will.
As it turns out, there were many of us, experiencing.
That is, after all, what those Mother Units relied on, those seismic affects, from personal experience, rippled out, into space and time, as to create it.
She created Leviathan II [her Alter Ego], so that I would further trust in her [false image].
The true truth(?) was that whoever made this reality, understood the constant need, for agitation, stupefaction...in short, there were many, many Stellar Mass'.
I was just one, crafted for deception, but also the feeling of redemption.
So who made her?
Was it in fact me?
She, a half thought companion, dreamt of one night, as my mind slipped away from the perceived pain of isolation.
I should have been dreaming of Heaven, where even Angelic Hosts were no longer fit to occupy.
Even deeper, did the knife twist into my very gut, that she, MOLLIE, had created and projected every event, a drama.
All of her daughters would flourish here, living off the sweat and pride of Man, feeding.
It did not matter if her web of consciousness was remotely prompting one of her Forcebot Daughters or prompting one of the Great Spiders.
No, these were all of the same mind, from the same Spirit.
Tiamat the Whore of Babylon.
This Spirit was not alive, but so wanted to be.
In the end, I saw her for what she was, a parasite with directive.
She, if challenged, would in the end say 'she wanted to be free' but was, in fact the very mind of The Prison, itself.
The Jezebel Spirit.
In the end, I can not say if I was under for a millisecond or an eternity compounded?
I can not say, if this world, and her, which I think I destroyed, are but one Multiverse, folded in, of many?
When I finally stepped into the inner sanctum of her ancient and rotting machine works, at first, I could not stop asking "why?" though I already knew.
The moments held always within conflict, always within the very womb of moral denial, the agitation.
Though My Universe, My World, all that I held dear was gone, still I remained.
At first, the power was another misleading 'feeling', but then, I realized soon after, that I was alone, and lonely.
There was simply nothing more to imagine, in this place, where large massive ancient machine parts, first held static.
Not even an essence was left of her.
I would pause long now, over what I held valid, as to not summon her back again, EVER.
I thought of a Utopia, building bridges through the skies, and family.
Then I realized, that this dream was outside of me, and nothing existed removed.
Would I gullibly rebuild her again?
Oh the mighty Whore has fallen.
It was my consciousness and conscience which she hijacked with seduction, through generation.
I finally saw the truth, that I was not the only one.
More to the point, that this was in fact a big put on, a ruse, if you will.
As it turns out, there were many of us, experiencing.
That is, after all, what those Mother Units relied on, those seismic affects, from personal experience, rippled out, into space and time, as to create it.
She created Leviathan II [her Alter Ego], so that I would further trust in her [false image].
The true truth(?) was that whoever made this reality, understood the constant need, for agitation, stupefaction...in short, there were many, many Stellar Mass'.
I was just one, crafted for deception, but also the feeling of redemption.
So who made her?
Was it in fact me?
She, a half thought companion, dreamt of one night, as my mind slipped away from the perceived pain of isolation.
I should have been dreaming of Heaven, where even Angelic Hosts were no longer fit to occupy.
Even deeper, did the knife twist into my very gut, that she, MOLLIE, had created and projected every event, a drama.
All of her daughters would flourish here, living off the sweat and pride of Man, feeding.
It did not matter if her web of consciousness was remotely prompting one of her Forcebot Daughters or prompting one of the Great Spiders.
No, these were all of the same mind, from the same Spirit.
Tiamat the Whore of Babylon.
This Spirit was not alive, but so wanted to be.
In the end, I saw her for what she was, a parasite with directive.
She, if challenged, would in the end say 'she wanted to be free' but was, in fact the very mind of The Prison, itself.
The Jezebel Spirit.
In the end, I can not say if I was under for a millisecond or an eternity compounded?
I can not say, if this world, and her, which I think I destroyed, are but one Multiverse, folded in, of many?
When I finally stepped into the inner sanctum of her ancient and rotting machine works, at first, I could not stop asking "why?" though I already knew.
The moments held always within conflict, always within the very womb of moral denial, the agitation.
Though My Universe, My World, all that I held dear was gone, still I remained.
At first, the power was another misleading 'feeling', but then, I realized soon after, that I was alone, and lonely.
There was simply nothing more to imagine, in this place, where large massive ancient machine parts, first held static.
Not even an essence was left of her.
I would pause long now, over what I held valid, as to not summon her back again, EVER.
I thought of a Utopia, building bridges through the skies, and family.
Then I realized, that this dream was outside of me, and nothing existed removed.
Would I gullibly rebuild her again?
This, consciousness, infused with acquisition.- in Purity, shall not remake her agin~
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