Tuesday, February 9, 2016

The Pure and True Son~


 Where I sleep. Deep, deep into the night, where my psychotic dreams be still. I sleep there, there on the two sides of the falsified hallway, a mock of Amanti, six beds, of stone, circular. I live it, I breath it, EPL, each day, every day. Not one denies, my power, who I am. Say I am the Anti-Christ, all those who know me, will be like 'sure'. A beautiful and scary mixture, of heaven and hell, of right and wrong, of good and evil, in their extreme. Did God, the Father, not come from the thick black darkness? As I have blessed, I am thus cursed. A Son must become wise. Am I surely, to lay myself aside, down for you, for what reason? Is the season?

 I drank, and in my drunken FourLoko slumber, a ritual ensued. A natural, a Satanist, there, to take the place, of the Ego, at the Helm, we call him Train Wreck, Jeremy as in https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeremiah

  Who could possibly serve God more, The Everything, that to see his ugly and hideous side, and serve him in that/this? but a Satanist, as Esoteric as it may, become-

 Satan is after all, just a name, as is Lucifer. It is thus, this transmutation of E-energy, to be sure, and how it's dialectic plays upon the heart strings of our ambitions, a DNA projection, to be sure.

 I spent the day with him, that next day, at days end, or the third, I retook my throne from him, a false ego, but a justified Son, non the less. Who am I? He seemed to ask..."I am just a fallen Angel"

 When I am not pleased, snakes follow into your souls, creep, according to my Father's will. He has no need for a Face, but then is all faces, to be sure. He does not need quantify right and wrong, but uses your own intellect, or lack, as a pendulam, which spews your bloods, an art work, a clock work, of dis-organized collective splatters.

 We shared a burrito, at Carolinas, I gave him my glasses, a green tint. He embodied the Devil, a version, his own version of Satan.

 'You don't seem like your typical Satanist?'...as to say, but your are...I told him my identity before, when I consumed him, which soothed him to summission. I am the one who hates this place, and humans more than any of your...Demons, I am the one who is handing humanity on a silver platter to you, to be sure.

 But...just as I destroy, I thus rebuild. This strange world, of cause and effect, as to bring about that polar opposite, the Father, always there, as to allow me to say, in my haste..."that's what I meant!"

I destroy you, but your will, with the Father now in your rebuilds you. I am the Prince, that Son of chaos, who has that greatest lesson yet to learn. He tells me, the Father that is, that I am indeed justified in my hatred towards you. But how beautiful it be, that I can hate you in all your contaminated truth, and thus be correct, in my assertion. But still, by defiance of will, you go on, now hobbled, humbled. Now you assume yourself as good, as that better being, a better Man, or womb-man, as to make haste, in such a notion.

 Those who do not understand me, EPL, are not meant to follow me/EPL. Those who understand my words, are thus the elect, the selected few~

Infinitum Secretiore
On, toward the infinite division, to be sure-

K-Tone is my God, think on this, think about the Father and the Pure and True Son, we live forever~


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