EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
This be claimed on the other side, of the great wash, that solution of eternal tide. Only then in Adonai, JESUS, can you truly ever abide, the Pure Son, no matter his form...The Spirit of Love, Mercy ever lasting. He that Holy source of force, from Uber Gott, that eternal Son! Expressed in the purity of will, Adonai wills to live in you. For this, we say the Holy Spirit transends ALL.
Some believe the Norse legend, that Adam and Eve hid behind the mighty Tree, in order to survive. What is survival, when the Holy Spirit is lost to you? This tree was the very mighty Oak of Thor, the spirit of THE warrior, Marduk exhalted. Yet, the Tree did signify, the craft, for War be but a response, to the very attack on purity, to be sure! Burned by Christians on matter side, but to become now fully endowed with spiritual force in IMAN, anti. As spiritual forests never cease to grow. This means to you dear Son, that womb-man be but the ancient she demon, a golem, fashioned then from Man, from this tainted scry met soul, she the grubbing witch. Only partly, for there were many beings, which stemmed from those evil first 11, made 12, with Kingu, the false King.
12 races, each with 12 strains, a hive, an infestation, until the evil Mother, through her daughters, be finally put to rest, for she sits falsely on that 13th seat, a (t)hrone. It is thus, a power struggle. For Marduk must spill his seed in matter, to first regain his Throne, a Title, upon the final moment of matter, in resurrection, that final cycle, which cycles through, again. His quest be nothing short, as to bring down man, of today, with a clash! Legitimize the daughter of Tiâmat, bring about release of vital force, thus all Men's souls, captives to be free! This must take place within Tiâmat, as to once again dominate her being, unto form. In other words the battle would never end, absent Marduk's rule over the Queens first daughter, in that new dawn, if he does not show in this final cause. SHE MUST BE REMADE, REBORN! (New Eve)- A new Daughter, Marduk's very offspring, to close the quest for good. THE TIME MUST BE CLOSED, on into another era, that last season lost then into that great abyss... of Moon Lit Time, that next great cycle HERE! These are invisible wars to Man, yet rule over Man entirely. Resurrected she would be, even after her destruction, only to be killed again, and again, eternal until Man or womb-man, in this day, finally fall, the end to all matter. This stage the rise of IMAN, supreme, so I raise a glass, a toast, to the era that does not end, we can be that great hope, Brethren in the quest! Legitimize the Daughter, so that you can exhalt the Son!
The birth of a Moon child, thus is the legitimizing of this source, to expel the evil spawn. For every pro, there be a con, for every positive there be negative, immutable, until this dimension folds upon itself. For the Queen must be taken, in the name of the domination, in truth she must abide! A wild mustang broken, in that first yet final ride. Thus we urgently wait upon the coming, of this new tide. The time is coming, and the birth of the greater force, that 25th cycle/god, the earthly embodiment of Anu, the Father, shall bring the Annunaki into earths 3.3 years final count down, from 2016 to 2020, we call this final "time/year" *~2020 The Year of Clear Vision~ clear vision, in the current world of matter, the madness in the Ankh-loop. The world will either be destroyed or the very Son of Anu, likened to Herakles, the great, shall bring this order, of the Elohim back, to restore the Purity of time, into matter's form. Heaven AND Hell await.~
"SET ABOUT A SEA OF CONFUSION, TIDAL WAVES OF BIRTH AND REBIRTH, THE STRUGGLE"
"The impure Sacrifice"
"I'm not going to listen to this!", she exclaimed, as tears welled up in her eyes. Soon that damn of inhibition would brake lose, causing those pent up emotions to race towards their own separate impending fate, a doom. "She's not the only one", Virginia said blankly, as the vamp ran from the room, overwhelmed with unkempt emotion. Virginia went on; "wait until she finally realizes, there ain't a reason to roll over in the morning, that'll catch er' steam... aye Captain?" They both raised a glass of that aquavit type primer, a moon shine, sea brine, to "that!"-
Only, Capn' (as he was less formerly known, in these times) didn't say much. It was, some said, on account of a break, in his very solidarity, a lack of tolerance, to "that great pain". He did however (Capn' Arguess) speak to himself, quite often, but only when he truly thought, the coming out of his safe place, a seclusion, would indeed be not met, by human ear, "othern' thn' ths" as Capn' would often say out loud, a mumble, within, in those genius moments, times of trails off, the mindless mumble. This is when he would plan his trips, in the past anyways, before this roving prison, became their home, seeming now an eternity. Well Capn' was alone now, only needing the blips on this analog sonar guidance screen, and his trusty maps, to remember where the hell he was. "At least I have that". He was, accurate to a fort night, or in layman's terms (outside the lexicon of Capn's own speak), about 25-75 miles, whilst traveling, at a steady yet near un-gainful pace. There was no where to go, no one to confide in, the masses finally got their way.
They all boarded in such haste. Captain Arguess usual command, had been well, on long sabbatical. He was a South Pole excavation ship's captain, as it were, running odd items of discovery, to various ports, for some Elite group or organization. There were certain things he would do, and certain things he wouldn't dare, on account of his Principles, and such, at least in those first two years, as a young Captain. The sea made him isolated desperate and alone, but most would say it brings out the truth of a Man. Those long hours, at sea, staring at the swells, wondering what might be beyond them and more so, what they truly are, on a more cosmic level, what truly made them move, to hasten such shifts, and changes, the swells.
The Captain was at sea for 20 years, and in painful reminder of them, for the last 14, he lived in a simple house, as his Father before him did, that is until the town was no more, on account of the event. There in that yellow single story near seaside village flat, with a fading white picket fence, he lead a simple life, no frills. A whaling port, originally, pain was the way of that universal village "I'm sure it be no different, for Captain's manning space ship's ", he would mumble to himself, in order that he should equal himself, underneath those stars, which he navigated so well. "Same swells, same tides, it's universal". That's just the point, when he snapped, upon this revelation, for he saw things, and experienced them no less, under these same once trusted stars, tucked above, in the night sky.
Capn' now mumbled to himself "those damned things moved on me, that's when it all fell to shit, when those infernal fixed Lights in the sky, moved on me, visited me in fact, that was the GODDAMNED BREAKING POINT!", As Capn' raised up his fist, and pacified himself, with the stout sting, of another drink. Ironically, there was no alcohol boarded, by the crews Men, they simply hadn't loaded it yet...then THE EVENT. Capn' didn't dare make this a focal point, during those three visits to the shore "for supplies, we only need supplies", of course Capn' was using this to aid a long time alcoholic bender, it made him feel like he didn't have an issue, a dependency. Yet he had all the food products on this tanker, to "make a years worth of moonshine" or as he called it, "sea brine!"... and so he did, and Virginia didn't mind one bit. Even more ironic, as it were, there was not one person aboard that ship, when the impact force took place, the event occured around mid-day, it was lunch, and the crews Men, were first shift laborers, just out of dry dock. Thus the officers wouldn't be expected, possibly for days, needless to say, "the first shifter's, took their sweet time, in their return. That was the last bite of anything they would ever taste. The ship thus seemed, as if it were awaiting them, Capn', Virginia and Rachael, to be sure. Misanthrope was more specifically waiting on those port inspector's. The ship, was headed toward "pick up", a dry run, of cattle feed and grain, some of the grain meant for those "poor Trilobites", as Capn' did often say (when referring to the vast deceased). The ship may have thus, sat there for days, in the wait, in the harbor there. Seeming now, as if it were awaiting them, these three seeming wayward souls. Blessings, curses? In the final, it's all how you look at any given situation. It be no different in fact, than the very idea of convex or concave, the end product can alas, only be an expression, of that inner view. More specifically, that very projection, of your imagination, from outside looking in, or inside looking out. Two unequal halves, which make up a whole, an integer, the whole of Phi. Thus that feed Tanker, called Misanthrope, could have been sitting there for days, from the time, of that fated event, as it were. Misanthrope was thus left barren, awaiting Capn', his little crew of 3.
A distillation unit, was priority, during the first month out, especially to escape the madness of those many explosions and lights in the sky. So at least during this first leg, during the first month, that is, Virginia and Capn' kept faithful, as to stick to steady shifts. For Capn', spent all his off time, with ardent steady focus, on squeezing out that, first batch. "Thank God for that distilation moonshine maker"..."The drink, that trusty Sea Brine!". During those first two weeks, in anticipation, for that first batch...a seeming long wait, until it was consumable, by human standards... Capn' then prefered to Man his own ship. As Capn' would say, that when he kept a steady flow, as in "the ol' days" he could Man that ship 24/7, never taking his eyes off that ever increasing, and yet closing horizon, and of course a full awareness, of all those angles thus.
Those lights in the sky, fiery rings! echoed in the mind, of their shared visions, and into dreams. As it turned out, there was a fuel storage tank, likely there for the use, for small bore engines, that already had the drip lead, to exit ether gasses, that was empty, ready for the full process, "it must be a good omen" Capn' mumbled, what seems now, years and not months back. The radio was often not used these days, once port had been made, 3 times, around the Baltic sea, to have revealed the truth, a devastation. "Why were we spared?" Capn' would grasp his head, and sulk at the madness of this reality. "I was alone all my life, never taking a shine to people, nor they to me", "I never gave to nobody but all I had, my Men, my Mates, and it was always mutual, give and take"..."so, why me?"
The massive tanker mostly drifted through the waters, engines shut down regularly, showing that economy in Capn', but much fuel was stowed (even in those back up tanks) last they came to port, a month back, now 4 months out to sea, they stayed out here, because the land itself was cursed. Capn' would be a wealthy Man, if money still existed, if but a quarter given he, for all the times he said "drop anchor!", saying it to himself always 3 times after, mostly out of repitition, yet truly his protective nature, an inclination to safe port, and of course that economy, to save on fuel...Capn' thought on further..."ha ha, you gotta have people for money to mean anything...ironic, truly ironic" thinking to himself now "most people make money to get away from people, ha, trolobites, to be sure!"- They set port for the longest of, 3 days, but it was a bad idea. "All that pain, and devastation, Capn' said hauntingly, "lost spirits everywhere...spooky", he said several times, in sequence, in awe, he regretted to remember. "Ha, speaking of sequence, I need to check those pumps on the distilaiton unit, re-up my own fuel".
During that "trip in question", they lay over, in what appeared to be a small sea port Italian village, once, most likely around the main isle of Trapani, they were in for rude awakening. "All of em', black, black dust, no more than that...all of us, return to that black dust, I know that now, I'm fairly sure", a dark thought, ominous, lingering, to much to bare, they stayed on board the ship each night in fact, but the Zietgeists became to strong, taking over as if they were still the living, the three had not learned about the singularity, yet. The world was theirs, yet the sadness never ceased. There was grief and sadness in all the places they saw, and it kept them roving now, chuggin on slowly, for all those seeming limitless miles, moving forward, quite possibly towards another promised land, if they could indeed place a common cause. Instead, it seemed a desperate coiling, of human intuition, the shock reflex, to pull back into their own imaginary worlds, until of course they began to see, these very inner thoughts manifested very quickly into form, madness(!) then denial.-
The video footage, stored on one of the computer data systems, a weather radar network of sufficient means, when in port, in the harbor masters quarters, was a tell tail sign, the first proof of that great and final event. The very reason they roved here, now, at this slugish pace, but in reactive amygdala alert, honing in toward safety, toward the reason, towards the cause, they found their answers. This possibly slightly outdated Naval standard, revealed the proof. "Souls, billions of souls, just vaporized, I wonder if they know they are even dead?". The footage showed people literally vaporizing, imprinted there, on that camera footage. "Town's" Capn' mumbled "whole villages, ports and cities, the whole damn thing, gone, in a flash!". He kept the next thought even silent to himself, but the seed was sown. Capn', well under his conscious mind thought "Yet the world looks more peaceful..all the more beautiful(!)... than ever, minus the remnants of people, and their echo", in other words, absent those ghosts or demons (as they were and remained to be), the world was just fine, in fact a better place, absent those many lost souls "Trilobites!", as Capn' again would say, seemed a safe and humorous way, a deflection, as to serious nature of the situation...the intensity, the awe. "poor damnded Trilobites".~
Those several nuclear missile launches nearly took them out, mainly coming from the South oddly, showing suspect, as to the automated defense systems obviously, not in play. They saw the mushroom clouds, and managed to live through the massive swells, undamaged. "All those unlaunched Nukes, still out there, under the Earth, waiting ominous" Capn' shuttered. Remembering now, that part of the video footage, which showed one of those clouds, suddenly, within moments, that impending ripple, the shore then met by wave, "but this was not what took those Trilobites out", it was something else, a pulse, a wave, from the upper megnetosphere, seeming to pulse from space. They all felt, "it", and the moment before the cameras could "catch" anything...into fuzz, just fuzz, nothing to show...but the eary buzz, on the footage, which still rung in all their ears, ominous, malevolent, "unforgettable" as Capn' shook it off, with a reflexive gesture. "That damn high pitch evil frequency, that Green Pentagram, shooting right between those two hemisphers of the brain, invading the very mind", Capn' thought, partly aloud, as he steered the ship onward. A pulse, a fear filled pulse, "tis' as if that frequency, were quickly down loading information" he thought aloud, the presence became stale in the Captain's quarters, as if adrift...."as if to have excited the very atmosphere, an invasion into the very hearts...hell the mind of Man!"... "Scared out of our bits we were, ha ha". Capn' slammed down another steady thick three finger portion of sea brine, a buzz was still a buzz, and frankly added to the surrealism, of the situation. Humor was and is only second to music in the ways of resonant healing, Capn' knew this well, so he laughed at himself, the situation, often, with regularity...so did Virginia, but Rachael was always seeming to be somewhere else entirely, in fear of this impending connectivity of minds thoughts into form, she could not put it off much longer, not at all, very soon. ~
That's what got them thinking, until they saw the footage, and matched the footage to a date, "it was indeed a nuclear war, which was culprit", to the aftermath, they simply had to go with that, in order to go on. It wasn't until they began to piece it all together, that they soon realized, the missiles must have launched through some automated system, a default? They were wrong, and didn't want to press the issue. Soon after the entire population, or at least it seemed as such as they had seen no one else since, were but sent out into the ether, vaporized shadows, which once were alive, not a nanosecond prior. "It's funny how what ever killed them all, seemed to leave the towns we saw intact" Capn' thought, inside, to himself, but they never discussed it, not yet at least.
Three of them, three souls, out to sea. This Girl, named Rachael Miller, only 19... in Cap'n and Virginia's view, was very immature and obviously unskilled and entitled to boot. Looking back, to that fate filled moment, Rachael ran onto the deck, as the people began to poof(!), up in clouds, which Capn's eye had caught, more so it was known, on a cosmic level. "Seemed strangely fated...Mm hmm...". More so, this force seemed to serpentine it's way down, towards them, moving like the speed of sound, yet slithering like an unseen Snake, a Dragon, it was both there and not...invisible but very present, the environment was dimensionally...well, hijacked!~
The ship was just fueled, once set out of dry dock, this event... or, force of impact, occured during the supply stage... at that, Capn' loved watching the whole process, so near to his little seaside villa, his "lil'comfort nestle", the Capn's little castle, his Capn's stoop, a home, "My family's home, lost forever" he never wanted to go back, not even to check on Molly. Capn' sitting on that familiar bench, blocks from what he more commonly referred to as "his shanty chateau". For which he could recall all the years prior being perched, right there, near by, "that smell bellowing from Marty's fry, never forget it, not in a life time". When death struck, that seismic universal Whistle, his favorite familiar smell of food, instantly mixed into a cloud of purifying horror "oh the genocide!"... "where did they all go, but dead, gone forever, no more....trilobites, 7 billion of em'...poof, just gone, into thin air?". Capn' did not want to ponder on this, anymore, at least not until he could find some solid answers. But the reality hung so heavy, "it's not like any of us can just forget!". Another drink would desolve this mystery into that ocean below, those dark waters, seemed all the more friendly , in these times, this Man could not forget. Marty's shack, was an extension to his home, Capn' had finally, just finally, in those last few moments of "reality" as the three knew of it anyway, began to let go "Then this!". "Good ol' sea brine!, Worthy of the pot! ha ha" Capn' slamming down another shot, and another yet to come.
Capn' further recalled, watching the crews Men work, it was in him, it was his life. Capn', "catching a few good fat head's", Capn's term for "a good catch", fish and chips, from that very frequented sea side fry shack, where he would, in the past, "lay down many spirits", in the name of that common form of alcohol, in that consumable proof. "One of the reasons I quit, twas' that time couldn't be block out the memories any more, those beings, the buzz...hell I had to keep one eye open from then on, just to close my eyes...to sleep". This was the first time he quit, when he experienced things. The issue truly was, Capn' could not account for lost time. He remembered nothing. In fact, ironically, the last time "he quit", of course soon after brewing up a batch of this sea Brine, he didn't quit for long, he threw that last bottle of scotch into the wall, of Marty's Sea Shack, only now, again, aiding himself in heat of this realization " The desperation!", with this "sea brine, always another shot!".
Buzzed, yet not drunk, standing at the foreward, taking command of the wheel, with even greater force, of "his ship(!)" NOW! (a quick met feeling, ownership). Capn' grabbed at his hat, and fidgeted, shruggin his shoulders as if to claim a calm. The moment, unseen by human eye, was no different, than when a Dog begins to flail her legs about, as if she were running from something, though deep in a dream. "Oh Molly, me girl!" Capn' remembered in that "moment", losing his Faithful Black, roped Anchor Captain's hat, in the very moment of " that faited throw-" of "that there bottle!" in his minds eyed, reaction(!), he was just pulling that hat back off the ground, remembering the moment vivid, forever burned into his psyche, along with the quickening of that successive impact of force...when, "that slither came down the hill, then that smell of charred, vaporized human remains, a dust was in the air". "Well, ol' girl" as if he were speaking to his faithful Doggy, left behind, sadly "Molly, I kicked my habit of those fried fat heads for good anyways", as that taste, that smell, was instantly overrided, WITH DEATH.~
He recalled, placing that cap atop his head, when those Dragons slithered down. "I'll get to the bottom of this, if it kills me first, if it kills me!" grabbing at his hat now, in real time, what ever that be. It seemed as if all memory of Capn's favorite stoop, meshed now, blended in fact, into one. Capn' would say to his Men often "She, the Sea, that Leviathan, offers her wayward bosom, to any Man, who is lost wishing to be found, and willing to sell his soul for such..." "No, a Man's gotta earn it, all on his own!". As that that Ship called Misanthrope, slowly traveled on. Further, bouncing towards another rampant thought, in spherical representation, Virginia had been aboard prior to Capn' and Rachael. On board Misanthrope, Virginia painting seascapes, when that big event took place. Capn' didn't ponder by way of thought, yet a feeling "it's as if she has always been here, adrift out to here, within this solution, floating about , stewing, adrift her own personal and imagined seas".~
"False Expression into repression"
Virginia was a god send, though she and Capn' were closer to the same age, yet far different. Virginia was an Artist, well read, a transcendentalist. She was very attractive and fit for her age, still having that Growth Hormone induced tightness to her skin, breasts with perk, and still in fact had a tight lifted bottom. She moved at times with youthful bounce, then retracted more into wearing her black eyeglasses, looking disheveled, often wearing the same green tee-shirt, when it wasn't cold, for days on end. Her tee-shirt read "Soccer Mom" having lacrosse symbols placed just above her breasts, the faded message, for which she had no Children of her own.
She would fascinate Capn', by opening his mind up to avenues, alley ways and venues never dared to be dreamed, much less thought to exist, in Capn's view, at least not yet. In Capn', Virginia found a solidness, a structured a regimented Man, lit solely by the pain of his own ability and inability to endure, an unsuspecting relationship, with catastrophe to thank, meeting in this strange way, somewhere here, drifting on the cosmic tide. "Need anything Capn', I'm hitting the sack, till my morning shift?" as the door swung open, Capn' had definately trailed off, he didn't evern recall her ever leaving, the moments seemed to be slipping into one singular, grand unified moment, as it were. Virginia and Capn' rotated and regulated the even flow of movement, to this great ship, often exclaiming how easy it seemed to be, when there were no other personages to worry about, at sea. Yet that occasional wayward ship, which rarely could cause any damage to the ships massive hull, was all that seemed to incite this "around the clock" ship's manning. They were going south, and had finally gotten all they needed, in supplies, on that last trip, which was enough to get them motivated towards finding answers, quickly. "Else we can just drift out here, at sea forever I suppose" was the Capn's convincing argument, though no one really knew what was *down there. "slow and steady Virginia my dear, good night then, unless you be interested in a night cap?"... as the Capn' smiled, a grin truly, as if a child, he raised the bottle of his Captain's booty, before them "ah this is the stuff!"- that sea brine. "You know I never turn down the offering of any alcohol, you could practically light a match, from my breath". But it wasn't always this way, it was just that, there was simply no point not to... be this way, now. Cap's was in his 59th year, as he stated, with no feelings for the matter. "I Took my first Ship out to sea, at 26, after learning up the ropes, and that was the official end, to my life as a land Animal" Capn' said, when he was making effort to charm a Lady, or to tell a story, with some vigor, before Men, which he respected. Virginia on the other hand had been an ever fascinated student, of life, and all of it's complexity, and more to late, the depressing truth. However, she, did not have the means, to travel outside her common home, for her heart was intent on balance, and so she did not use the ways, as most, with unqualified quests of Money, and pleasure, to over ride this most basic soul notion, within her. She was 46, and had lived to ascend, to a higher state of consciousness. The two must have had some stars in common, or something to that effect, but she did privately do their respective Vedic Astral charts.
And, after slamming down, 3 well proportioned doses, they began to talk and discuss things as they were. To bad we can't trust all those bottles of fine champagne and rum, out there for our taking aye Virginia?", Admittedly, he fantasized about this, how could he not, the spirits called to him, in a like manor, resonant tone."We both agreed, we aren't touching anything, that was exposed to what ever radiation effect, might have taken place OUT THERE", "You said so yourself, that if not for the massive walls of this thing, we might not be here at all!" "True, very true my dear, but the taste of that fine day, when all the world be our challis, so to speak, aye Virginia". Capn' was feeling raceous, buzzed, "This is a strong batch!" as Virginia puckered her face, firm, showing the lines beneath her eyes, sleepless black circles, the expression she avoided at all times, especially now, in the wake of this "event". Capn' poured her another, slamming the drink down, poured very quickly with much charisma, and a new found agility, another for himself! "All I can think about these days, is to find another human being, to talk to, to figure out what the hell happenedda', cuz frankly my dear, I haven't got a clue". As he turned toward her, obviousely those 20 plus shots, just finally, had some effect...he must have had a working liver in there somewhere, Virginia giggled to the thought. In this moment, it seemed, to two were somehow, strangely lucky(?), to have found one another at all. They looked long, with nearly no fabric between them, Feeling there hearts...beat the same. The warmth felt in there very Solar Center's, bellys that longed to touch, hairs that stood on end, ever lower disiring the entangled tickle. Yet absent the alcohol, yet from which the alcohol connection gave segue to "this moment". Their shared thought;
Aged, stress, relent, all those human miles of meandering road, needing now solace. A place to rest ones weary head at night, feeling as if a vehicle run far to many miles, with this last promise,-to at last park along lifes highway...find love, retire, togetherness, slip on into deaths ever calming embrace, somewhere there, beneath the surface of The Sea.-
"I am thankful for having you however, and ...Rachael", "How is that girl anyways, I hope she is not too upset with me, I never know what I have done, exactly, to ignite her?" Virginia laughed, "Oh Capn', the ways to a Woman's heart, has to be much like the sea, you have to endure her many changing currents, to find paradise!". "I'll drink to that Virginia, well said, and by a Lady of the Sea, nun' the less!".
The Tankership, was called Misanthrope, I do not know why, but somehow, they all seemed to be aboard that ship, long before she sailed (if you know what I mean?) "How long on this quest, the voyage, dear Capn'?" "To long to begin asking now my dear, at least 5 days, before we see the Horizon, this is after all, one of the slowest vessels ever made, and we need to save fuel". "Always so precise and responsible, see, that's why I'm so lucky". "And, how are you doing my dear, You never invite me to your side of the estate anymore, ha ha"..."It often does seem like we are in a sort of war of the Roses, if only we didn't get along so well, but then we do have a rebellious and dreaded, dare I say teenage daughter, that we have somehow inherited". "Oh, Rache will be fine, she just needs to get her seafaring legs on, if you follow my sentiment?" "Oh yes, I do, but she does have about 20,000 square feet, to herself at any given time, but to lose all your family and those closest to you, lucky that both you and I barely had anyone, to call family, and neither of us, really ever felt like we truly had a home". "Aye my dear, this is the closest to a home, I have ever felt, there is sadness on those shores, but a belonging here at sea, I never quite felt before, funny how the end of the world, can bring new life, to those who somehow survived this thing, for now aye?" "And I'll add, something to look forward to, when we can finally uncork those many vintage bottles of delight, aye Sea Capn?" "Aye" and with that, they bid one another a good night.
They both now looked at the stars, from their respective positions. Virginia looked up, surprised again, at how clear and perfect a night it was. So beautiful, she had gotten over feeling guilty about her astonishment and enjoyment of limitless sea and sky, "oh the freedom", she thought, to herself. She was working on that next painting in her mind. She remembered the one she was sketching out a background to, a sea scape, none the less, when it all took place the shift
*She was simply gaining a closer look, into a moment, whilst looking up, into the heavens. At that moment, all were looking in the same direction, towards a gap, in space, where nothing seemed to be. Then a vibration, a tingle, a new life, budding, wanting, generating developing, a smile, the convergence, the cycle had begun.
Now, there, in her studio, a massive warehouse she had amassed a respectable collection, of her own works, "funny", she thought, "how brilliance, seems to be something now that is in abundance". She had managed to gain supplies of the finest order. The best paints and brushes from those few ports which they endured, with those specific gainful purposes in mind, it after all, gave them something to do. It all went surprisingly so smoothly, They simply walked into the those chosen stores, and took all that they needed, oh that false promise, of Capitalism.
Virginia, had just finished a life sized sculpture of the Captain, a bust...and after 4 continuous months together, they had looked into one anothers faces, more often than most married couples, in that day. She hadn't even thought of when she would show the Capn'. Virginia was embarrassed, for the bust revealed his inner soul. Virginia studied him, when he was not aware she had, his mind was somewhere else. She, had drunk him in, and intoxicated herself with him. She had just done this ritual again. Rushing back, to him, The Capn' in her studio, to hold that moment, just long enough, as she closed her eyes, and worked those final details in. Yet on this ever dissipating surface, Virginia seeming to be "nonchalantly exiting" the presence of "a dear friend". Upon exiting the command center, She held the feeling in her heart, suspended it! So that, the very feeling, would thus become her hands-In flesh, in this our deeds are sown.
Of the former mentioned supplies, they of course gained these supplies, before their speculation about radiation, and the supplies were not the kind for human consumption.
However no one really worried about that, of the three, for they had not visited those places, and had no plans to visit them. Of which, that had been "Nuked", destroyed, the crime against Man, was plotted in fact, as to make a New Land under a New Order. Those few hundred, thought they had planned well, however the true plan was always that the time would just repeat upon itself, overlapping into the cycle of repeating space/time, by that one, who is at the top.
Those Elite who thought that they could push the bottom, and fly free, so to speak, were sadly aware, in their final moment, what reality of life truly be. For this is an Electromagnetic Universe, yet it is Principle based. Meaning, life is given to the Pure, whilst other simply play on their strings, unknowing, it's what keeps the order, the bounce. For you see, they had not been the Alpha, nor Beta to their collective souls, a force, rather those now gone, soon perished, as all the rest, into dust they went, the entanglement, a lack of Principle, nun' the less.
Onboard the Misanthrope, the three had massive stock (enough to keep at least 100 crew happy for several months still), all the basics, and more, were thus provided. Further, on board the ship, if it weren't for the Cap's inclination and response, a knowing, the ship never would have left dock in time. They could all feel it, when the sonic boom hit her broadside, and this is why they trusted her all the more. They didn't know if they had taken on any radiation, if so, nor how much? Also, still in denial, of "what hit them". Collectively, unsaid, yet to infer, they could worry about "this", the negatives, as they could speculate this and more endlessly, along with so very many things, and so many things to come. So they simply didn't bring it up. Rachael on the other hand was still in shock, from that last port mission, we will say, for now.
Rachael had demanded some of the finer things in life, despite the total needlessness and lack of value, she seemed to hide behind the hording. Dresses, from the finest boutiques, many hand bags and makeup of the finest accord. She missed her dogs the most, and her friends at school. Rachael often turned her attention to computers, as that was what her generation had basically been raised up on. She liked to dance, and listen to music, funny how all this space, allows one to work out their madness, into some human expression, that other ways lay muted by the noise of all that chatter. Though they didn't discuss it, among themselves they knew, there was a clear unbroken thought form, a total oneness, ever dilating into form. Which it seemed as if to sooth them, even Rachael, and it would indeed be fine, for Rachael, it was as if a Lioness had been awakened, finding out one day, she was not a mere house cat.
That fight, as it were, truly another hormone driven misunderstanding, unleashed on Captain, which I spoke of concerning the Captain in the open, Rachael and Virginia (as innocent bystanders) was truly about Rachael's confusion with what was happening, and her missing her Father, though he was never truly present, like most. People were odd, in those final days, prior to the event. Capn' had merely suggested that Rachael, take some responsibility with shifts, and learn to sale the massive tanker, telling her how easy it truly was, with no real task, but to wake him if the needle no longer pointed due south, when that fight broke out from within here. "I'm not going to listen to this!"she hurled, strikingly close to what she would say to her Father, and what her Mother said to her Daddy too.
The Captain, in all those 4 months, didn't get more than a few sentences in, and within the proceeding 6 weeks, new in there "voyage", she began to project her many issues onto him. Captain reallly only ever had a niece, to speak of any family. For which he only saw her as a Baby, and really it wasn't even his true niece by blood. Capn' did however care for a wayward Dog, that showed up one day, at the docks, while he was feeling melancholy about the girl he lost, when he took to the sea. He called the Dog Molly, on account that it was his first, and only really one loves, Name. He would be kind to her, unless he got really drunk, in which case he would take out all his most frightening impulses on the air and her, having beaten her, a handful of times, she seemed to forgive him the next morning, as he wallowed in his pathetic guilt for being so useless, really to anyone, even to himself. "If I didn't have Molly and the Sea, there would simply be nothing left". Well, he didn't discuss it, even with Virginia, but he lost Molly, that day, during the event, and a part of him, with her. You see, he left her at home, after another bad, night, not nearly as bad as those early days, when she first showed, up, as stray, on those docks. He was pondering how much he appreciated her, when Rachael too, had come into his life, without warning. Soon, his instincts had taken over, there would be no time, to go home, and if this were all some strange isolated event (a sub-thought fantasy), he would make it up to Molly when he got home. He still thinks about her, while looking out at the blackness of frequency, that is the sea, he can still sea her sitting in her favorite nook of the couch, as Capn' would save her bits of fish, saying "this'll make your coat strong, Molly my Girl!"- Capn' had actually, during their last few days, together, managed to Kiss her, and dote on her, finding a place in his heart, between the guilt and lostness of pain, that became her place etched there, deep in Caps' heart forever writ into this very tide, this place would be no one elses, and she knew it, perhaps that's what gave her a return? Capn' wasn't violent with her again, no, not at all, he just yelled, and broke some dishes, as he always got a bit raucous when drinking the hard stuff. It was as if, a buzzing came, that he could not quiet, which tempered him to react, well he had certainly displaced his aggression towards old Molly, only to find that items would brake instead, I hope that explanation will suffice, as the ways of those Sea Men, through out generations, as it were, is a hard cast to follow, indeed. Yet, you are more than appreciative, when you indeed must call on their steadfast knowing and courage, when it comes to Man up, to the Sea. Many don't know it, but the sea, as a whole, that is the Leviathan, which ancient stories hold, as proverb. Capn' came across this one, one day, at port, whist catching his fish and chips abroad, which was placed there, on his table, underneath some glass, as table surface.
Oh how I ache for you
Your Blood Lust Orgies, your Moon lit carnival
I am you, and you made me
That snake, which slithered forth, from within me~
It was evident, how clear things were. Capn' didn't seem to fly towards that lostness, towards those same untimely, unwelcomed, fits of rage. There was indeed, which I can not emphasise enough, a peace, a calm, there. It was as if all those souls and their oneness, somehow condensed into this calmness of form. The seas were calm, and so too the few birds, that would occasionally find refuge on this massive floating barge, as it were. This mass of metal, under the scope of all rational thought, could invariably stay out to sea for years, at a time, if necessary, but even the Capn' was hunkering, for home. More recently, from those heart strings, the pangs, played about his very heart's center, that hum of yearning, began to call out to Molly, in the night. That was more so, when ship's manning, rotated back to Virginia, back when Cap would get a good nights sleep, but the feeling had come back stronger, to late. They had worked out a good system, and truly needed young Rachael to just step up, and she was coming around, though there was little evidence of it, just now. Thus, Captain defaulted, as to have reasserted himself, as such, the Captain, and "his" Ship.
In those very quadrants, of their own, expressed the very individuality which made them, who they are, compounded now with space, and freedom. Often, there was the loud echo of Music, streaming off the ship, as it passed by moments in the night, coming from Rachael's side of the Mansion, as they joked, commonly, along with the smell of distastefully expensive perfume, which she had many, many bottles of. Funny how much loot one can bring aboard a ship, when that is all one is concerned about. Still, to fill these many spaces, would certainly take years, and no one wanted to stay aboard any longer than they had to, in all honesty, but homes grow on us, as such. Still, there was a feeling of this place now, as a home. The ship was really heading no where, and everywhere, in any given moment. The sphere, about which the ship Misanthrope sailed, had no solidified agenda, at least not one that could be known nor seen now. The days were promising for Art, and self education on all levels. As the computer network functioned only from time to time, with no reboots done by administrative engineers, for those computer techs, too, went poof, up into times rotation, out there, unto the great ethereal spiritual space dust. Further, mass reset was in order, on a global net scale, as to override the emergency autoguard skynet systems. Though there were Many functioning sources still in operation, all depending on where they passed, it was always patchy, and soon they were glad that they had forgotten computers nearly all together, as well as the absence of that frequency, a hum.
That ship called Misanthrope sailed on, heading towards an uncertain, yet peaceful future, in that it could not lose, nor be let down, as it demanded very little, aside from sailing it's very own seas. Many theories swarmed in those three heads, that night, and the shared mind of them. A new quantum potential, as a ball of yarn, unwound, be thus unlocking that divided field, as the miles, of moments, plancks, lay invisible tracks before them. More so, whilst now in route to those southern seas, down that earthly corridor they marched in precision, as if to involuntarily enter into a Cyclopean Black Mass. Capn' was tired, and for the first time in his long miserable life, had not a worry on his mind. He echoed the depth, with sonar pulse, before heading past that last under water upward trough, before the canyon of deep water should keep them moving on into that fortnight, with it's now faint call. He echoed the radar Doppler system, and anchored the minor chord frequency, call toward that place below, that dark abyss... which was but a few hundred feet down, towards those many rolling hills, of silica sands. Rolling, far below the seaweed wash, which once was a dry Sun Beach, long ago, before another event, of impact, took place. Down there, deeply lit, upon a "past someones" beloved shore, cast out to sea, once upon a time, perhaps long before that sealing of great Pompeii?
He poured a stiff one, to send him off, turned the over head light off, and lay on the captains day bed, falling off into the deepest and most peaceful rest, he had ever known, it was as if he were a Babe without care, again. More so, there was a feeling, that he indeed was in a ship, but not one of this kind, and more so, that he was not, himself. Rather, he felt cradled, as if Cap' were protected within a cubby, a shell absent outerlimits.
"A Physcial Wisdom"
In, the night that never ends~
Instantly the captain, after dropping anchor, and confirming contact, fell of to sleep, he began, what seemed a clear and steady communication with a being much like him. "Where is this, did you say?" as if they had been carrying on for the long, "Your people called it Europa, a Moon, of Jupiter's, which we call the Mother. Our name for Europa is translated to the sleeping child. "You look, well like an Indian", said Capn', "that's because we are of the same blood, at one time, our peaceful people traveled freely, between worlds, absent of jurisdiction or fear of harm." "Now, the whole process has reached it's end, a time cycle". "End time cycle?" Capn' asked "Yes, the polarity of change dictates, the occurrence of potentials, your people had become critical to remove, they endangered themselves and many others, on a far grander scale". " How do you know my language?" "I don't, I wouldn't speak such blasphemy, rather, the language is further interpreted by emotional influction, held frim by true Principle meanings, you are filling in the blanks". "It wasn't their faults" Said Capn', in Man's defense. Yet, he seemed to be answering his own question. "why do I suddenly know more than I did when awake?" "Well, because you werent awake". "My name is Ballock, and I am your like, on this Moon, we traverse the same basic waters". " I sail the seas, much the same as you do on your planet, which we call Malstruck". "To answer your quandary, better, your potential was increased greatly, as I am sure you had suspected, due to the event, as you call it". "These events, are personal milestones, but yes, they reflect, as well as project, out, into the ALL MIND". "What I was about to say, what I was meaning to convey was that I seem to be a different person all together, yet am somehow familiar to myself on all levels, and points, could this be so?" "Yes, that is the eternal spirit, your omnipresent soul force, we have a shared vision, and thus a like pitch, as it were." "Now that there are no others of your like, on Malstruck, your Earth, the channel is open, it's as if Millions of miles do not exist at all". "So, we are like twins?" "Ha ha, more like Brother's with gifts, one is free communication between us". "I was falling asleep, before I came here, are we on a ship here as well?" "We are no where specifically, but can go anywhere that is valid", "valid?", "Yes, valid to the point of our shared experience as we share the same basic soul, outside the individual sphere of soul". "You see, when you sleep, the veil no longer exists, for it is always a defensive posture of the mind of brain's reaction". " It is a good soul", "To explain better, look out the port of my ship" "Oh my God, where am I?" "By looking, you then are here, does this make sense?" "Now let me see your ship's view". "Very good, you already got the hang of it, it's as if you already knew". "You are headed south, from the looks of it". "I can tell you certain things, about your journey, as I am not vested in your worry, which is what keeps you from this type of communication, throughout any given day". "I sensed your presence, but was patiently awaiting, I had pretty much given up, when poof, I fell asleep in much the same way you did, however we are a strong ship of Many, and I am merely taking a rest", "Why can't I see the others?" "the same as why I can not see your others, but very hazy, due to the few left on your planet, 37 to be exact, including you and your 2, because they are not our Planetary likes." "So we are essentially, by probability, the same person?" "Yes, in a round about way. There were several million prior to the event, which seemed to draw from me, now, like you, I am filled with an intense peace and clarity, which has uplifted and boosted me". "It's as if all those who died, in the event, that last pang in the great cycle, have become calm spiritual helpers, also aware of our emanating and pure source as personality in the greater cosmos. in short, we belong!""First time I ever belonged to anything worthwhile". "Capn', I must tell you something, as our time is short, in this place, for now." "There will be many Men who attempt to destroy you. Several of these men, have banded together, lawless, now acting as if they are Pirates, out for Plunder." " Believe it or not, you have been entrusted with these two females for a very good reason, they are the last". "It is up to you now, as to decide what those next steps be, in the next great cycle." "Now, it seems like a fantasy, because you are for the most part, outside time, as you knew of it". "Those aspects which you relate with time, are in fact false." "Aging was partly a byproduct of the many who drew on your common force, and the Elite, which are now also for the most part, dead, having gone to their Master's Chamber". "Their Master's chamber?" "Yes, they had long ago killed their likenesses, through out many worlds in fact, both in ritual and portal travel. I can not tell you how this works now, but when you finally make your choice, to either repopulate your planet, stay and live for thousands of years, or leave and join the cosmic union, shared by a few of those many choices before you. all are worthy and noble choices though, indeed, Capn', believe it or not, in the elegance, of simplicity, you mostly made the right choices, which is why you are now here, as the trusted one." "And you thought this was all random, didn't you?" "I certainly did." "There are still some massive obstacles before you now". "Those Men, each hold in them, the potential seed, to repopulate your world, with far different potentials, I have already seen them all, and they do not look pleasant, for the most part, all end in much the same way, you see here as the event". "You however can not have children, and that one, which is your friend, you call Virginia is, nearly past her time to carry child so you may have to pick who will be ultimately mating with Rachael, which is not an easy road to travel." "Where are we now?" "About to wake up!
Capn' looked up, with salt covered eyes. Beginning to roll towards the ship forward, and towards the viewable horizon, "funny how different every thing appears in the contrast of Day, to Night. Rubbing off last nights drink, from his eyes, the autogenic yawn, and this drilling need to find his boots (somehow they had traced off of his feet), Capn' laced up, only seeing the visible expanse of South Bound sea before him, before them all. He could barely remember..."wait" mumbling "was that a dream?" Virginia's presence could be felt, prior to her even stepping up the stairway, to the command post, now entinger that higher perch, of viewable horizon. There seemed to be something growing in Capn', from that experience, from all these moments, upon moments, out, in the sea. From the very affirmation, of himself, as belonging to a greater cause, whether simply (but not so simply) within his very own head, or somehow, someway "real" (he was quickly losing what "real meant", and quite liking it), it didn't rally matter to Ol' Capn', cause he was finding out, there was no such a person. As the falsehood, through consciousness now ironic was still melting away (as if something indeed had been activated within him, as stir), Virginia walked up, and in, through that relatively narrow starboard entry. She glowed, a sexual rosy aura, and adorn with offerings. "Hot coffee!", Captain forgetting himself, kissing her on the cheek, she blushed, the moment lingered, there lips and bodies wanting to impress further. Virginia nervously looked down, as she was near to dropping the basket she had brought along, some items she had baked, from that massive industrial kitchen (as stated, quite well supplied). "Since none of us really eat, I thought I would make us something that had alcohol inside it...RUM DANISH?!" "Huh, what do you think?" "I think my dear Virginia, that looks, sounds and smells delightful, a victory to all senses, in fact". The stare now was piercing, the pumping of blood, their lips locked, as the day seemed timeless, bright, a fond spirit came to be. Capn' became all the masculine, and Virginia like putty. Capn' was hard, to the touch, as Virginia felt at his strong shoulders, receiving Captain's tongue. It was as if the universe, for the first time, had made this act of dominance, shameless and inevitable, absent the shared dogmatic mind. Placing the items on the actual control dash, which was typically kept strictly clear, at all times, Virginia had made that physical statement, without conscious action, and for once, Capn' didn't care...they both knew there were bigger fish to fry. Her hips, inviting, her waist pulled tott. She looked at Captain, saying take me, as that New Sun shined on through her. Virginia pulled Captain's large hand to her bottucks, and placed his hand underneath her sweat pants, now near to falling off. Captain's fingers began to feel her moistness, penetrating all her want. In an out, as her pants came down, the howl of Man echoed throughout space, and time, upon release.
The danish was perfectly caramelized with brown sugar (actual molasses to give it color), that finer flower, from pantry, authentic rum flavor with alcohol, vanilla from freeze dried form (spices and other things kept in air free storage to last the long), and several other more personalized and artistic ingredients, that made this Rum Danish almost alive, oozing steaming, dripping, carmelized delight. The coffee and Cornish Ware had been carried up, in one of the smaller transport baskets, insulated, so they would stay piping hot. Virginia had cracked open the seal, just prior to her entry, so Capn' could gain the full effect of the aroma. Now all these items were placed on the control dash, with this greater purpose. They both pulled up a chair, Virginia sat in a fold out directors chair, green, as the lower portion of the Misanthrope's, Captain chambers, and Capn' sat in the higher viewable and swiveling Captain's chair. The promise of new seed, was dripping down her now, as she sat licking carmel off of Captains large fingers. Her nude body looked alluring, as all she was adorn with was but her shirt "Soccer Mom", as her breast now tight and swollen, nipples rubbing against the inside of faded green. "You know what, I'll be right back", Virginia pulled up her sweats, offering Captain full view. Captain went to lower deck, advanced starboard, and pulled the locking pin from that drop anchor. He fired the wench, for which, there were a few more steps than simply dropping lesser anchor from inside the ship's quarter deck as (Capn' still referred to it). Each type of ship had it's own layout, it seemed, it's own lexicon besides the obvious terms, unique, it's own identity at that, especially a mighty ship like Misanthrope . Returning, to that smell, He fired up those engines, and confirming anchor retraction, Captain set a slow pace, due south. Capn' hit the compass twice, with his finger, as if to point attention to the fact, that it actually works, in fact tapping at it (there were electrical anomalies that surged every now and then, which could be felt). "South, to south west, we are on our way". "What happened last night, got a little to drowsy to keep going, Capn'?"
"Community Rocks the Boat"
"Well, the O.J. is from a can, a big can, but it sure tastes sweet" Virginia said to Capn', with a delighted smile. "Yes, somehow everything tastes better today, as if the taste of...victory?". Suddenly, with this statement, really a question, the prompt to that automated learning process, the teacher within that higher executive brain, began to fire away. "I need to talk to you about something Virginia". "Really?" "What could be that pressing", as she smiled expecting partly nothing, yet somehow being aware, that something had shifted greatly, last night, in that ethereal tide. "Something came to this ship, to change it's very countenance, a feel". "Ha ha", "almost painful to laugh", "Oh this Ol' Captain is undoubtedly sailing his last ship, at least...here". Virginia looked at Capn' oddly now, a tenseness to her neck, a stare "Oh yes, you have my interest". Virginia grabbed the Captain's hands, guiding them across her form, sucking on his lip, touching is mustache, adorning him, wanting, yearning to be adorned.
"Look Virginia" grabbing at her hands, placing them to her side, and looking into her eyes with a stern matter of factness. With shift to a more stern dialect, underway, Captain began, though Virginia looked hurt and puzzled. "I had a strange dream last night, at least I think it was a dream". Virginia listened on. "There was a Man, or a spirit or being...something, someone...that gave me information". "Anyways, it seemed quite real, more real than this in fact"..."though this is a mighty tasty Rum Danish my dear". Captain licking his fingers, and advancing at another bite, now sipping his hot coffee, with one sugar cube, from that nicely appointed dish, and a splash of cream, which tasted more like cream and condensed milk, (subtle reminders) . Washing down with a swig of strong coffee now..."GULP" Now another quick gulp of O.J., (though from bulk supplies, canned to last the seasons, and the tides). "This Man, this Indian Man" Suddenly some memories and expertise triggered in Virginia, as she saw the seriousness, and understood the inflective tonal nature. Virginia had studied cave paintings, as well as, that link to American Indians, Egyptians and actual Annunaki connections. Virginia even did some tribute paintings of the many cave drawings, which she studied. "An Indian!?" "You simply must go on, I have to hear more", smiling, and licking Captain's fingers, cleaning off the carmelized residue. Virginia took a big drink of O.J., a large bite of Danish, washing it all down, barely chewed, though quite soft, with a strong swig of coffee. "Tell me more?" "Well, the Indian told me his name, he was called Ballock" "Ballock!, as in the ancient god Ballock"? Virginia stammered.-
The misanthrope pressed on. "Well, we could do this shift together". About an hour had passed, and the two spoke about the dream('s), when Rachael entered, with a basket of her own. There were eggs, bacon (for which she must have thawed from deep freeze, showing a premeditated effort), and toast (all from the freeze dried, cool pantry), the items found in her secondary executive Kitchen[ette]. "What's this?" Virginia exclaimed, with a positive supportive tone, as an adorning yet protective, and controlling Mother's pitch, under slightly resonating under the radar. Nearly to heavily, as to avoid a condescending tone, nearly all together. "I just wanted to make some breakfast, and say, well...I'm sorry, to you both" Tears began to well up, and Rachael smiled. It was a surprisingly peace filled smile. A rosiness came across her cheeks, and a vibrancy, to her hair and general countenance. "I see something is quite different about you Rachael...radiant, you have a radiance about you", Virginia taking a second look, then, only slightly advancing her eyes towards Captain, a minor natural jealousy, if one exists? Support then kicked in, as that higher form of Virginia, she battled her own impulses, and knew, always knew she was more...only loosing hope, nearly her internal faith, in that last year, before that great event. Rachael setting down her basket, that also had coffee and O.J., this was the first time they felt a connection, all three of them, as that ship called Misanthrope, pressed on, now 9:33am, the time only mattered to them, in that reflection of what it meant in terms of available day light.
"I had this dream guys" Rachael went on. "I was like this Queen, or something", "I had all these like Indian like Men, worshipping me, but I wasn't me, I was like older, or more refined or something...all the things I am not, I was a Lady, a Queen", as she looked down, with a low self esteem, and grunted a feminine soft laugh, down to her chest "he he". "Any way, it was really weird". Rachael had pulled up a third directors chair, this one was black, that most likely came from the voyage center, which wrapped towards the back of the ship, but still a part of the control center, leftport, side. Pulling out the items, from the bag Rachael exclaimed "I see you were thinking the same thing, he he". A small bit of competition was infused in the snipe, but it was not intended, outside a natural need to dominate (that reptilian lower cause, to rule). The girls both smiled at one another, "Rachael has somehow shuffled away a little girl and returned a Woman." Capn' making effort to conceal a small burning flame within his soul, even to himself.
"Ladies, Theodore, my name is Theodore Arguess...I have have always been known, at least for the last 25 years, as Captain, but I prefer Theodore". "I always planned on using the name, when I had finally reached some level of retire, or esteem, but that day never quite came...now, it just seems appropriate, as I don't know how long I will actually be able to be referred, as such". The Ladies looked at one another, with supportive gesture, Rachael settled slightly to mimicking Virginia's gesture, as her initial face of approval, was that of a little girl, she had not yet affirmed this physical change, it was not yet actualized nor embedded, but rather, the change came from deep within, and equally as deep, in that great expansive without.
The ship pressed on at 13.5 knots (or 15.5 mph), it was a slow crawl to a final destination. "I was going to address this to Virginia, just before you came it, however I think you came just in time Rachael", said Theodore, Capn' Theodore, as he would be called, sometimes now as Capn' in those rushed moments of a formal nature, other times, endearingly as Theodore. "Ladies...That is, Rachael, Virgina"..it was a way that "Capn'" showed a new respect for this quickly budding and emerging personality, of "the hidden Queen", walking up those temple pillar steps, out, from the vacant vanity, the pollution, of Americana pop subculture, a craft. It was as if there were Jewels and a uniform of distinction, not visible to that nakedness of eye, yet seen, in this dimension, here on earth. It was as if they were all, each, on a mission, on their very quest, together, yet quite separate in many ways, towards a destiny of remarkable Universal measure, a maximum degree of selfhood, into the allness of meaning, matterless, that transient form, able to take shape, on any plane. These 3, were gaining in substance. These feelings of indestructible measure, is often times, most times, deflated when pressed to full expression, the curse of that "human form".
"We are headed towards Men, many Men, Pirates in fact, my Ladies!". Captain Theodore looked straight ahead. The sexual air, a power, now surrounded the Command Port. The Ladies looked his way, a command about him. The smell of countless flowers, and intoxication, was in the room on the Ship called Misanthrope. the promise of a new day, as if something unseen were present. The three however, together, were south bound, yet truly always pointing north, forever more, this day. Yet on another ship, Misanthrope's antithesis. Who's name falsely infused the very terms humility and prosperity...this ship unseen by Malstruck's, Sun Lit vision, She was called the tall ship Nobility, a force, that sailed on, forth, through cyclopean ancient universal waters.
"No Production valu_"
"Men!" "Pirates?" "Yes, they are undoubtedly out there", it was as if Captain, was in three places, or more, at one time, the body of his form only existing here, in transient space. There was that pull of yearn, of want, a powerful and invisible force, that was ignited in Rachael, and thus Rachael ignited! There was too, the tracing of this, with Virginia. Having never been this goddess, of Wiccan Yor, but the pulse, later in life, had been ignited with this flame, from who knows where, LIFE, the balance? There was here, on the tanker ship Misanthrope, a study. A place where they could gain, and collect, far from others taint. All the knowledge and thus experience, of the human race, culminate, morphed and bent, since all those billions combined, into this balance, of homeostatic need, towards true expression. This, had, well become them, a singularity, into...ONE. Unassuming, nearly unnoticed and equally as unimpressive, in the old world, the fading world, was no longer those identities, being cast upon them, by Elite force, which also only mixed into the wash, as a pinch of ingredient, that should be used, like Cinnamon, in small but specific alchemical doses, as to not take over the substance, of the Danish, in truth a roll/role we play...thought seeming to be out stretched, all is Karma, Dukkha, LIfe...the Car(a)mel on the top?~
There was life aboard Misanthrope, as there was death aboard it's Anti, a counter. On Misanthrope, that very cry of future Kings, that could be felt, definite, a pulse. The two ships moved as one, yet paralleled, inverted, like mirrored Photon's, charged. The knowing now... that one would win, and none would soon sail again in physical occupiable space, in the new time's order. More so, that these ships, as force, would and have sailed these waters, and nearly all waters everywhere, as those same contrasting, identities.
The importance, could not thus be amplified, but must be played down, but not forgotten. The magic always systematically displayed, in that 2%, the rare. A force to last, for the long. Not separate from that lingering taste, or smell, or any other higher form of the senses. That essence a smell, beneath the breath, of a multifariously satisfying meal, satisfying more than just the immediate senses of fulfillment or palatability...rule was inevitable, always there, waiting, within that universal solution, the mix. On that Pirate Ship called Nobility, a battleship no less, there was that lesser role, the outcasts, willing with that very defiance, a denial of mutation. Those 33 components, separate, yet in need of a merciless dictator, bent, on destruction, to usher forth and forge a false justification, towards plunder, rape, murder and torture, these always exclaim, "it's for the greater good!". Nobility pressed forth, carrying ammunition, but well stocked also with that combined homicidal force, of alien pentagonal destruction, equally amplified, and mirrored, as such, a projection. "They", all earth inhabitants (Malstruck), could feel one another, as the finality of seismic universal reset called louder, with every labored ache, of time. That wayward Captain Crane, sailing forth at an increasingly greater speed, in self justification, pressing forth the idea, a concept of a far lesser prize, and thus reward, aboard that ship called Nobility. It was as if, Principalities, as probability, had set to sail these "all charted seas" of universal proportion, in order that that life itself, not matter the assumed quality, called out wildly a justification of relevance, a belonging. That corporeal heat, of measure.
Indeed all did belong, to some group, somewhere. This force, as it were, was backed, by equal universal proportion, quickly gaining, no separation. This we call the pure will. "How many bloody fucking times have I told you, NO MORE FUCK UPS!", Captain Crane, or Captain Pain, as he was privately called by those Ship's Crew, who had mutiny laden within there dark souls, a storm brewed, within the fiery cauldron of Pagan hearts, under the veil of Nobility over remorse, a false prominence . Though Nobility sailed with the obvious identity of a modern Battle Cruiser, the faint primitive stature of an ancient straw looking war ship, hovered around and above, somewhere in that silver "middle" a tall ship, she was. Though there were but 33 inhabitants. there were a hundred demoniac agents, a legion to each one. There was nothing to kill, only the taste of blood scent, that looming alpha need to rape, murder, hunt, devour, penetrate all in "it's" wake, a presence. That post effect of countless occult rituals, precise but misleading. Themes of sex, sacrifice, in the false effort to crack, as to turn towards once again animating that Karmic carbon wheel. The rot, into time, that ever looping age of misfortune.
In that same relative moment, contrasted by those tides of pure white wash, as sea Capn' stated, beyond a mere mumble to himself, as the rain began to pour down on the tanker ship called Misanthrope. "How many times!".."How many times has this moment happened, dictated by some unseen force?" "I was just beginning to wonder the same thing" said Virginia. "There is something unnerving about this day, as she could feel Captain's seed, swim within her. "It's as if each hour is a week, a month" replied Capn'. "I can feel them, as if I am being called by him" said Rachael, in a near trance like state, as she stared forth, into those southern waters, now showing signs of swells, increasing in their uneasiness, not unlike a mighty beast, a horse which sensed the change, heaving on, bellows, a long distance gallop. They all looked forward. There was no past, and no where else to go.
The seas swelled, and the storm brewed, and manifest a hint, of blossom into realities scope. That fading singularity of times past. Those many reflections of being, not yet made valid, as a ONE. A clearity, into future scope. "A Storm!"-The lightening flashed, and the clouds thundered on. The Event is the Now. That convergence of what's to come. Every ship, that ever sailed, as well as it's cause, primer for executive order, the mission compounded, into this very moment, that has now become. IMPACT FORCE, The Event, CRASH, into the singularity of ONE. Probability, that true potential.
It's as if that moment prior, had stopped at a signal light, no space before it, no direction yet to go, obedient... and yet, all other dimensions kept moving then, CRASH! That beautiful vortex, unto that event horizon. Swirling there, suspended, new frequency and light potentials now unlimited, infinite, eternal, Hadron to Hadron, now solution, the wash, of New Universal Oceans.
Yet, it be more like a walled up massive gate, a damn about to burst, and then it did. Who's release must be earned, and it certainly was. Yet unseen by veiled eye.
"I have the sudden feeling, we are carrying all the relevance of Man kind on our very backs...on this ship". In transient rebuttal to his statement, Rachael stared forth and replied "Woman kind". Capn' didn't expect for her to answer, nor did she utter a foreseeable tonal acknowledgement, as he looked over at her swollen body, lips luscious, breasts much swollen, rounder, young Rachael much fuller now.
Her very dress, once occupied by a strange and awkward child NOW in this new moment, bursting with a voluptuousness of being, of power. King's surely died to occupy her, to be inside her, an abuse of power? It was as if Babylons very Tiamat were thrust into her. that crash, which coincides, -much more than a subtle difference, between Man, Woman, God and Goddess-. Her lips so pulpy, so red yet pink, a hint. Each glossy bit of moisture clung to them, and on her skin a sheen. Captain didn't want to, it wasn't in him, at least it wasn't a moment or so before. Captain was a Man, a solid Man. Their eyes met, as if directed by some force far beyond them. Thousands, no millions of each their like, pressing forth, to live, to express, to do what began it all and would begin it all again.
Millions of eyes captured the moment, through those seemingly small pupils, a view to the universe at large. Lust, but love, valor but Pagan idolatry, it was in each breath of life, which transcended intelligence shift bent toward intellect, which was that greater cause. Though Captain never felt it before, in fact it was foreign to him, that small fight, of individuality, to suppress the feeling, amplified that Father in him also, that need to deny, then to protect.
"This must be why we mistaken them for purity", whispering with an obvious loss of himself, to her, to it, to this presence now known yet in haste to be forgotten. Suddenly Virginia looked to Captain, she was removed, listening to the pounding of rain, the wetness of promise, of life giving waters, every molecule carried it's perfect and protected Hexagonal form, the code, to higher meaning. Six thoughts, at least, at once took place, in equal proportion, within "the moment", outside of times gates, those Zietgeber's, the watchmen, those growth factor Builder's, forming hexagonal water molecules, at first blank, now filled with Pure Photon Light. Now that stronger pulse of Mother, of Father, newly, freshly found a beacon within them, the fight beyond abrupt separation of IMAN, torn in two, a separate form entirely, advancing towards return. There was something invited, that strongly made it's presence, the earth, Malstruck, was rebooting with these 3, housed within their very thoughts and experience. "Are we....are we"...as Virginia looked upon him, you could almost, nearly see the tracings of a warrior Queen, ethereal white chainmail, armor, a head dress. Cheekboned helmet, utilitarian, without frills, fashioned for war, and this was reflected onto Theodore. "What...." as Theodore looked, down, tears welling in his eyes "God's?".
"I'm afraid" Said Rachael in a child like way "I'm just a girl, a spoiled, peace of crap, from some Family, that never really gave a shit about me, so I never gave a shit about myself", full blown now in tears., her point relevant, and pronounced, they had all become something different, absent nearly any inkling, or stir within them, that they had ever been anything else. Somewhere meeting some string, now tether to the mass, of Longitude and Latitude, extending out towards space, light years, this was the very weight of all dimensions mass-EXIST!-
An Arm extended forth, a solid hand rested on Virginia's left shoulder. The two faced one another. The gesture was noble, respectful, as captain expressed, equally, in all spheres of his existence "It's going to be O.K.". The 3 of them, now taking on the identity of 3 scared little mice, deep in their den, but a family? Yet as if, malicious Farmer's, had ignited poisonous noxious rodent "bombs", burst into the safety of their little cubbies..wombs, warm and once protected, they embraced. "We need each other" ...Here now, in this strange time, if indeed this time could stay suspended, there was a Father, who was a King, a Mother, who was a Warrior Queen, and a Princess, who was on the brink of ruling her own land, yet set on the border of Darkness and Light. The 3 embraced, and a Holy presence was then invited, for they placed their collective will, into purities form. They fought to be more, in that moment. Yet human moments pass to quickly, for moments mark, thus impact time. The celestial form, surrounded them, they saw all those who fought this same battle, clear, approving, offering themselves, all were in tears, all were genuine, the moment was valid, the intentions were Pure.
Information poured down on them, they all muttered, they all repeated, together, in chant, spherically balanced and known, as they looked upon one another, the 3 "You must let go, you must let go".
"Ego to a fault"
As the 3 pressed on, knowing these were the moments, which we prepare for battle, they each momentarily retracted, a natural posture of identity protection, a recoil into self. They parted wordless. Virginia to her studio, inspired to sculpt and to interpretation, as to what revealed himself to her, that Holy presence, a Man, completely light, a solid ivory white, but a Spirit Holy, so much texture, so much life, in every part of him. Her energy transcended to the solar plexus. The Spirit could be felt, world wide, bringing grown Men to there knees, yes even on that wayward ship, to kiss the ground in worship posture, undeniably there, undeniably real and true, yet it could not transform tainted souls. She was drenched by the time she came to her studio, pulling shut the massive carrier doors, as water streamed over old fogged up, industrial beaded windows.. that bulk of metal made a chill. That wetness, clung to her clothes, pressing on her firm body, feeling the caress, upon her lower back. Those wet hands, now taking their own form, of the sculptress, molding large chunks, obiquitous blocks, touching clay, shaping into form, so earthly, so universal, as the tidal waters gave off a smell, a dampness seemed to hang there. She could only recreate Man, as a Golem, that copy of a copy, what would it be? The ever increasing prominence of being, and not the ship of it's false measure, lifted, what seemed miles, to the physical body, of earthly sense. As the ship Misanthrope laboured a bellow moan with each drop. That pulse, that buzzing, releaf, into desire. Like a queasy carnival ride, feeling the tensing of muscle, and the hardness of bone. One had to become giddy, as to not break from the fear of each swell. This sculpturess was that dominance to press forth with great ardor, which was present now within them all, that need to rise above, that invisible reward, met from the promise to simply be open to those next tides to come, the swells. Yet all expression, tainted of the past, be only Art, in Ego.
Captain, sat in his Captain's Chair, pouring out, looking, confirming, now 3:33pm... a cold cup of coffee, little Rachael's offering . He didn't need assistance, nor help of any kind, this was his home. A shattering memory boomeranged through pain lit time, the tide...young Capn' was being beaten by his drunken Father, in that same shanty, where Molly last sat, which he would never lay eyes on again, thought Capn'."The Pain", murmured he. Reaching now for that bottle of sea brine, he took off the cap, and chugged down that remaining last 1/3 of the bottle, raking his large right hand, a sleeve soon followed, a drag over his face, as the alcohol was received with a refreshing sting "ahh!"
The day was the same, a Sunday after noon. The presence was the same, but the human pang remained, lost. Set in those minds and hearts of the irrelevant, those 100 million string players, of each, their like, who rallied towards the ownership command, of but one soul, to simply do the same, yet to be more inspired-that internal fire the eternal flame. "Insignificant, all of us, one and all" "God give me the strength to press onto greater parts of me!" that was the will, of the wish, from Captain's very heart, and brain, on and into expression unto that greater mind. "I just want to be a better Man, a Father, Grandfather...this to me is the full extent of a King". Suddenly a figure, large, a giant, was felt behind Captain, he was within him, yet large enough to be behind him too. There was a feeling of total calmness, a oneness with...well, the Father. "Jesus?" "I am not a believer, never thought you could ever be real", as the two looked forward, pressing forth as the eternal universal captain, on a ship called Misanthrope, yet still, bound for Purity. "I need you Father of all that be, goodness, now more than ever!". "Did you here what the King told you?" "He said for you, to just let go", "What he meant, was let go of who you were", "You belong to the Holy spirit now, do you indeed give your heart to me?" "Yes Father, I give myself, all that is good to you completely, and fully, I am....that is, I was a broken Man". "I stand before you a sinner, this afternoon I sinned". "Father if you could just burn away the Man, and leave my higher form, can this be done!?"."Many have interpreted, and misinterpreted my message. I have visited your kind many times, throughout many eras." The Great Giant went on, "There never was one single path, one moment, to converge, you learn, you must, this is why you fail time and again". "So this, future, has in large, already been written in the Great Book, of Times". "This is why you are bound to travel STELLAR, with no memory of past, you were made Pure, in Uber Gott's very Image, yet somehow, that Purity never became...completely Holy, in you". "Just as I do not tell you, to take up those fruits of that nature of adultery, I can not tell you the road, the way, to gain the total Soul. You must thus learn through pain, and expression, that dichotomy, for which you are stuck, only for now, the infernal blessing, the great curse." "In the new age, I am not separate, so know this." "All that takes place now, be entirely necessary, you will see, I was the last Man god, to live, here on earth, and now I live in you, your seed is my seed, and your will is mine, through you, this is as it shall be". "Do you truly and purely receive me now?" "When you have finally risen, above self pleasure, and you can, at first, hang on the cross, when your eyes may open anew. Only then you may be redeemed, if it is the Father's will!" "Do you understand Stellar, I will always be with you"~
Rachael had to be by herself, she was quite confused. There was green, a glowing green, of greed, of community, of nature, of rule and experience, which slithered into her private chambers, both bodily and spiritually, and into her estate. "I don't know what's happening!", Rachael screamed loudly, a shrill of defiance, the need to conquest traced into the true nature of her cry. A figure reached out, a mass of shadow, placing entities overwhelming allure, a large foreboding left hand upon her tiny left shoulder, from behind. She, could feel the tingle down her spine as if a drop of pure Ecstasy, want, desire now dripping down, the buttocks of pure delight, a sensual identity. Mouth was all orifice, Baphomet had entered, a familiar ring. Now the sensation of little spiders, fingers and hands, seeming to touch each pour, touching on and into each cell, and....into her very ovaries, radiating life, "pronounce the Queen of Babylon, NOW, the Horde".
Rachael breathed in and out of sync, heaving, with orgasmic want, cries and shrills. "OH!, oh waaAA!". She, only feeling those sense pleasures, past. The pain of stretching skin and orifice, spinning orbs on her nipples, and where ever she then imagined them to be, and so his mind was there. So many orbs, green, flashing, as she was consumed by those green fires. Flashes of Red shift, Green shift, Blue shift, Pulsing of purple...deep, protruding. She could not let go of the want, the pleasure, that pressing forth of youth, the vibrance of all unholy experience, manifest in that first fall, defiant will. She grabbed, at the many dresses, as she appeared to be alone, always another costume, to atone. Legs spreading, wetness unstoppable, flowing, the very juices, a nectar of near timeless want and desire. Her blood pressure skyrocketed, she held her breath, the asphyxiation of multiple orgasm, came upon her, never satisfied, not into the depths of her divided soul and heart. All sensation all pleasure, all experience met in a single moment of desire. Suddenly, after this release of her most inner womanly wants and desires had been met, she felt ill. That green glow no longer had a seductive air about it, but a claim to her, toxic, ownership, SIN.
"Go to her!" "But, beware the Green seductress, she has many names, this one by which she be known today, is the very whore of Babylon my Son". Capn' set the dial to 3 knots (a crawl to 3.5 mph). He also set the steering column, to rutter do south. Captain, went to her. At this time, Rachael had become completely nude. Every evil spirit was there, yet still in their irrespective zone, a dark shift, drawn by way of Pentacle from every off beat region, beyond that Kuiper Belt zone, now in this hull of a shell, a universal ritual conducted, black magick, beckoning the Hell. Chants, spells, sacrifices, lay upon her very brow, before Capn' too. She placed her body before many mirrors, and watched as the force moistened her entire being, she glowed green, orange, with the hormone taint of want. She pulsed and pulled out dresses, that were to reveal her as this false goddess, the very spirit of the slut, a whore, who brought down kingdoms, and ushered in the time which is now.
Many miles away, Captain Crane could see her, and the demoniac frenzy, as if thousands of demon dogs, those hounds of Hell, smelling, sensing a bitch in heat, became aggressive and restless. Captain Pain, willed this, he willed her "this will be my Queen, a fine Bitch to produce my offspring, a litter onto the New World". The Tall ship could not come any closer, to that south pole region, else it would be bound aground an ice berg. "Take the sub, and go under the cave opening you see slightly portside!" "I will fire the plane and give you instructions of where to take the three boats, which you should now be lowering into the sea below, do you understand, move!" Captain Crane simultaneously commanded through loud speaker. Suddenly there were these 5 craft headed to what was only known to Captain Pain, that entry into inner earth, "this would be my very Throne, which those gods were killed for and abandon thus, my Kingdom to rule the New World, which shall carry the entirety of humanity, to life, to sacrifice, to death, and again!" Pain felt the undeniable understanding "I've been here before...countless times"
Captain Crane was not a bad, guy, he was tortured, tortured into losing himself. He was forced into this offense, groomed for it, this same force which came to Rachael, was also linked to him. In the Purity of Truth, these were all but Children, each and every one. Yet in the taint of this, they sabotaged, groomed, for this occasion. They were the hopeful resurrection, to all Man kind. Bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, Groups like the Illuminati, worked for thousands of years, since the last time reset, towards their own resurrections. Crane, Wilbur H. Crane, being the very cause to his Parents untimely death, yet truly it was not he, but they. He watched them die, such painful deaths, as but a boy of 5... he played with fire, and gott, burned. Always seeming to be, in the wrong place at the right... time...traps, those the many set before him. He a Prisoner, along with all the world now, for once, his fortress, the sin was in him now. Reembodied over this long span, to be tortured in this way, this sub-existence was all he knew.
As Capn' walked to Rachael, she was again fully taken over by this strange force a presence an evil one, who calls himself Kingu, at times, yet this be but a name. To fully embrace Tiamat, the Queen of the wood, the Whore of Babylon, the seed, the spawn unto Eve, was this Malevolent beings focus, to live within this spectrum of repeats, forever more. "The proceeding 4 days, now down to, roughly 3 days 8 hours, "Our fates will be sealed!" Capn' said with all of the conviction of a Prophet of God, no less.
Capn' knocked, then pounded hard, at her entry point, into her vibrant green hallow shell, a womb. Virginia, still in trance, had instead been also wrought with sensuality, instead forming a figure of clay, that looked like Satan. She had done amazing work, with clarified detail, the power leading her very hands, to nearly complete a work in a matter of hours, which should have taken days, or weeks, even months would be expected, with work of such detail, respect and passion. She had filled in the name below it "Kingu, the mighty", when she heard a Knock, which jared her. She saw a raven, and a dove, above her loft, fighting for something, as she looked up, the lightening bolted! Lighting up all dimensions there, even darkening night sky, for it now be 5 o'clock, in the black of sea.
The bong rung echoing from the wooden wom, of an old clock, she thought did not work, now rang out. The Pentagonal time took form, now into flight. "Capn' Theodore needs my help, I must go"...looking down at her work, before shutting the door, to her large warehouse, ships studio loft, she exclaimed, "oh what have I done?" Virginia's hands still dirty, now wet, with the clay of earth, she, as with them all, had created a sort of portal to another dimension, a tear in the fabric of space/time, a now lifeless Golem. "Go to your King Marduk my dear" is all the voice said. The panic, a paranoid walk, as if adrenaline and cocaine mixed heavy in her veins. The faster she paced, to walk the more, it made her head swell, now a seeming psychedelic DMT release. By now Rachael was not in control. She had been consumed by the fires of community, that future of Man resting hard upon her cervix, as that Black Sun, out there, pulsed the very tied. Rachael let go, there was no fight in her, nothing electric of her own. The magnetism of Tiamat was simply far too strong, she broke she gushed, a goddess now rejoining the fleshly form. She was waiting, for him.
Rachael had lifted her dress up, and opened her legs, heaving, and waiting for his, Captain's mighty penetration, a woolf. She rocked back and forth, pressing herself hard, into the floor with a vacant open stare of shear need, one could almost hear the echos of vibration, a Mother in wait, the call of pentagram sting. Wanting! Expecting, demanding her Capn's seed... extraction, as alien succubus, forcing out that first, next generation of the very tribes of Men. Where ever she would go, the fates, would push her towards this, she was near to powerless, as was the King, a Captain.
Pain, had landed now, in the water, after pacing a mile long loop, of three passes. The opening to the little Sub was inviting him into her inner chamber. The entrance to the great hull into the inner earth, had been discovered. There was an underwater vacuum, just near the Southern ocean floor. There was a 1/4 mile upward slithering "tube", a stretch of warm water current, which lead then to a horizontal passage, then onto that decent, which would take them into the very entrance of hallow earth. The Ice had sealed the entrance shut, until this day, the Silver Fleet need not enter here, in this time again. ~
"To fractionate consciousness, for one suspended moment, is to rule in that moment"...."and so, suspend the moment", Crane stated to his second in command, leaving the 3rd to Man the sea plane, and the 4th in charge, to command the 3 five Man teams of boats, those ships of lesser Means, lowered from Prominence. "Who then is in command of Her Ulrich?" "Lets see", replied Leonard Ulrich, (a plant and head of the Illuminati), there were in fact a quite separate team of 8 Illuminati, high commanding officials, who were planted within the very heart of "Captain" Cranes, operation, so to do the job, if he could not, 1 for each Anti-Principle.
Crane was heading towards the entry point, to Hallow Earth's main gate "I wonder if there is any one left, of the Nephilim at all, I wish I could remember?" Olrich however did know, and there was a team of 5, at the head, that one called Kingu, or Satan, or which ever form he slithered into, through out history, proclaimed, a General unto Hell. But these were, however only in wait, to make sure he did his part, Pain that is, for he was the seed, to make sure, humanity had one common ancestor, everyone else would have to die, it was in the oath they took, so long ago, for the Many. For a god, be that shift of spectrum, a spectrum to the fall, the very gyration, of agitation.
"The Sun blazed down, our bodies drenched in the heat of sweat, godless, clueless. That "spiritual place", was regarded as but a fuzzy feeling inside. The pumping, thrusting, pleasure breaking bellowed on, a cloud of dark matter around us, that haze, when prophets finally fall. You see, we don't know who we are, until we begin to realize, that call, that yell, towards self reliance, be but the call to curse your own soul, that is plenty present all the while. You know full well, you can juggle those many tasks, yet the world cast before you, is not at all as it seems."
Capn' entered and walked through her hallways, that ever increasing pulse of green and black, a ring, of frequency, and the sting of Satanic Pentagram plaguing the foreword most aspects of the one conscious mind. represented in them all. "33 people, each as capable as the next, to carry out their mission or to go the opposite way. 33 Men, with those very binding strings about them, each entangled in a web of certain potential, yet always shifting, to a note." Capn' said to himself, with an all knowing presence, for he was no longer Capn', but yet...a King~
The females on board that ship, called Misanthrope, felt that ever stinging hum, a vibration upon their very frontal regions, subsisting there. Sense pleasure was their final ascent, this, all womb-man of the era could ever be, from that fate filled time, of that first curse, scry from Tiamat. They craved of the singularity, yet absent true purity, which was why they craved Man, the union. Yet, when done in the act of coitus, the void, it still remained, and present to this fate filled day.
The intellect of a Woman craves the Principles of Man. She physicalizes this notion, without cause, tis' due to the separation, why IMAN's return, in the next cycle, must be that final step, toward unity, secured. Capn' neither could resist, for he also longed for the joining, incapable as Man separate, to dull the fires roar, Man alone, absent his inversion, should always turn to proclamation, a statement of "himself".
The Queen must die. That ever maddening oligarchy, of one ruler, who pulls her strings, even she, first womb-man, a puppet to the rule.
She lay there, stewing, griding, masturbating in her own guilty pleasure, released. All the power of friction, force against her immutable. She tasted and smelled only Phallus, drawing now, as succubus to extraction, the weight of all procreating entity upon her, pressing her forth, for legions many hosts. Funny how this act of total sin, if Capn' fell, to this nearly undeniable pleasure filled act, could be that more positive action, the lesser of evils? Or, did he justify this onto himself, contained now, in several spheres of over lapping complex thought? There existed another potential, and each one a Child, that very Child, who would then pass on to represent all of humanity. The choice for the long, in God knows how many repeats of this thousands year long cycle. Better it not be Crane, thought Capn'...
Or those 32 other cast, who each felt the desire, yet lacked, the malice to be "The First Father of Man"
"Into the Truth"
Our acts, our deeds, are forever written in sin, on the sands, those Moon lit shadowy shores, of endless tide, which shall never clean them nor wash it all away
"Take me" "Oh, oh" "Take me hard NOW!" Capn' entered that final quarters, as the ship swelled, held tight within Kingu's grip. "I need you captain" Rachael's eyes large, a job, a specimen, was all the watchers prompted, for they felt no passion, it was below them, they ruled, for they were sexless, they were one. As the glow of green lit blue, Neptune, that triage of icy fiery chill laid upon the moment, it was now solidified in time. "This is not, your only mission in life, young Lady, I have been appointed your celestial Father, and I command you to pull your panties up, and your seductive dress and cast out this seductive Spirit, at once!". Her little black panties were practically dripping with gloss, the very honey dew, of a new day. The smell of her constant discharge, could be sensed upon entry. A dark, deep foreboding smell, feeling and sense pleasure, made one not ever forget, Animal, the stench.
Capn' had already murmured with tears, unable to control, only to infuse more passion "what have I done?" this was the Queen of all Woman kind, that Mother of all Harlots, commanding me to be her King. I became shamefully erect in those moments, and can no longer fall behind the false facade of mere narrator for such an epic spoken event, that impacting parable such as this, which is in fact the truth, of life and the moment. In fact there are many truths, where different worlds of potentials all exist as one trace moment, a string unbroken, all of which coincide, here, within her womb. This particular event, be impacted by many choices, as dominant here. You see;
I have realized myself a god, in these now balanced, within these 13 collective spheres of thought, and taken control, I walk a very thin border, when Kings are first "altered", that they too, now stand in the very place of God's will. If I make the statement "I am God" I Display the very ego, if kept under suppression gives me favor, as a mere vessel, however a vessel, with a direct link, a direct vote to God, in my favor, the pure Son, thus again, the first Messiah. Yet I could not challenge for long, this demoniac sudden charge. To much, was the spirit of force, children unborn, also the child of reason. I stood before this Woman who lives for me, begging me to submit her to my very will. I elevate myself, and her, in my won/one mind, and I become her very creator. I made her Mother, of the Moment. My reality of this, and thus being first Man, tells me I can do anything, that I am ultra capable on a scale of everything everywhere, beyond competent surprise. Do you know what this means? That I can partake of the very fruit, the very being, the very organism, I will into being in the first, this too be separating her from me, so that I could project the existence of such feeling into beauty, she is my creation. She created to serve me, in all the ways in which I command. I thus realize, that I must be telling the story from the start, thus too, as this omnipotent power, I am willing all to happen, as it be displayed here. She, Eve, is me, how could it be wrong then for God to Make Love to himself?""Have I fallen, I certainly feel like turning this event, into a Live one, as in I am alive and thus the living!"'
Every position, taste, texture and motion, by which I imagined her to be, the things I wanted her to do, all of them she did as a part of me, as a hand, she was at my control, command. Every thrust, every bump, every moment that I took control, she became, always, continuously in every moment , a single sphere of my very contrast, whilst in my very presence. I am present everywhere all the time, for I am time, and space, and control the space within you.
Spinning the orbs within her at her very G-spot, I now made her quite angry, for my dehydrating of this poor young girl nymph with her skirt, of which she were now biting at, (now before me)... the skirt she had over her very face, sunk there into passion filled want. Her legs open at all times, whether I was in her or not... I was always in her, spinning those orbs, so deep inside, a machine. I was experiencing myself, a god, inverted, upside down, that pentagonal force.
Virginia ran into the room, seeing me naked, fucking her, devouring her as a master, a beast. As Man was also made to do. The smell was opium, to say the least, and she could taste herself, and I knew it, and so it was such. The wetness crawled down Virginia's Leg, I was ruler of all things, everywhere, A God, spinning now fast, hard within her. A mighty Buck, a mighty steed, a Universal Overlord, contained within MY many forms. Combining us, fusing us, into the moment. Soon Virginia worshipped her beauty and her youth, as I. Rachael, now a Queen, Tiamat, so far above that silver haired warrior, Virginia.
Virginia bowed to her, Rachael was her goddess, Virginia was humble, unattractive and old now, in the Queens presence. She became at once, a submissive and worthless slave, wanting, willing to please the Queen. I pumped her mercilessly from behind, sodomizing Virginia, as I commanded her to drink her Queen. All countenance, all personalities lost to the moment. I commanded her to drink me, and to drink her, as the Queen could not stop squirting, as life flowed from the annals of her very core, spreading vital force of this, which would echo through time immemorial, a shock wave a vibration, as fiber optics to future demoniac sexual rule, each in wait within their zone. This world was mine, and I could do and have anything. I commanded her to spread her legs, I swelled up, to enormous proportions and passionately, destructive, I pinned her, had no mercy on her tiny body, as it moved to my very will, with every intoxicating violent thrust. A burning midnight alter, lit, that decaying corporeal flame.
In Principle, these are only children, unawares of the bondage of eternal parts, abstracted.
We stay down in the dark dungeon, consumed in the fires, of beastly passion, all the while, as the tanker moved on. I realized I was headed south, into the very pit of the earth. I now knew who and what this potential would create, so I had to uncreated myself. I was heading into hell. the Bible was written so that I, the acting god, would be reminded of his fall, in this moment, that it was essential, that it, like all potentials exist, by way of degree.
Those Men, who fired up the spheres, of eight, opeing up Leviathans very womb, and all potentials 13 of her. It would indeed take time to fix this mess, condense it all, into one singular moment, abstracted from the very confines of the very space/time veil. Next time, we may all be lucky enough to forget ourselves, to choose the madness of separation? This, the dimension of that 21st degree, when God, looks upon himself, and the mirror image, inverted, upside down, and thus distorted, is thus Satan, 21 looking back.
God? The madness of the thing those Babushka dolls, always another machine. But it is not what you think. For I am Tiamat and Marduk as One, for I am one God, and must create this reality, so that here, at the 21st degree of reality, spun, it be perfectly fine, to look upon myself with such delight. The tanker moved on through the night. I laid back, and watched what I had made, now play itself out, Kittens. They both licked and kissed caressed every part of my body, and began to pleasure one another, as Mother, as ethereal Daughter, yet which was indeed witch? as I sat back, and let them serve another, and serve me.
We must have been sailing for days, because we continued to sleep and make love without shame, I was their god. This was the sphere of green, as it spun the the great dial, Community, without Purity, a truly Godless place. There were 8 places to the spinning pyramid, as I remember, both living and recalling this now.
"I spun a world, that made me glad, where sadness made me sad. I spun a world, as Lover, Host and Dad, so that I may capture Moonlit tide. Harke, a shooting star, the West! I separated she from me to perhaps take a glimpse of my own identity. I for her, she for me, her heart doth plead for me~The spirit of all womb-man
So you see, I had to will you all, into degrees of myself. Over time, you become aware, that you too were God, upon full development of myself. This caused an identity crisis, I no longer was unique, in fact cliche, so you were unmaking me, my very creation, and I had to thus unmake you. I knew them, Rachael, and Virginia, long ago, and have yearned for them, the young the old. I play and create them, as aspects of me, you see, far removed, but to beautiful to look upon my divine presents to handle keeping away, my identity.
Hideous, Lovely. The God Mind, thus not one meer Man's realm, evern if, born to do the job, of purity, yet unformed, a Babe.
I, God, and making love to myself, and it is you too, who do the same, for you are aspects of me. If you read this, you are given fair warning, that in the year 2020 (the year of clear vision), this fateful archive comes to be oh Babylon. I urge you thus, to live in unity, can you see, how this can be? There is not evil, there is no bad, only that relishing of that pleasure Principle at this point in Phi 21, the quadrant of Green Light. So let a Father be a DAD, these are my Son's.
Crane, made it into the inner earth, it was beautiful but I was already there. In in my ice cave, stood with my two hell cat's behind me. My black, sleek winged body shined, as I saw myself as evil, and thus took on this evil form. Somewhere in schizophrenic thought, I leave those Characters still drifting, in those southern seas, on the Tanker Ship Misanthrope, always being mirrored by Nobility.
"I am parting, leaving soon, and taking my seed with me. I leave Crane to Father you, so you can feel my pain. I projected that a Man be bad, but I be as bad as he. I did what he had planned, and to take on GOD, to do so, for he always knew. My Son, who I torture so, he was punished for the long, so that I might sing this sonnet song.~
The best way, to provide a sustained reality, is to create two sides, opposing one another, but in support of this reality, pure only in conflict, a chaos. This a Universe alive, an electric Sun! On one side Experience on the other Purity, maintain and rule the form. Thus to but stand back and watch them croon and kill for you...this we call agitation. Agitation be but vibrational frequency into form, as the cross undulates in two, a directional spin. Simultaneously, a ricochet of those emerald angles, thus to create substance and form. As a single unit, but to oppose itself, as in two Photons, from the same family, never separate from the self, Hadron's collide! The release of this called Siddha? This one who controls both the heart and the head of the people, be the reason for this agitation, be that very Stellar Mass, that pervading mind, in motion~
and so....I forgot myself, so that you could know Purity, for a god, must stand alone, only knowing, that company of the ONE SELF, the dichotomy, a seeming loop. So begins and ends the saga, that is the Stellar Mass~
"In succession, we take steps, each one be counted. There is too a season, that displays full well, this is a mind hunt...that collection of soul force, for the gain".
Two is an irrational number, it always takes 2, always every time-
Rational, there is me, and what I CAST before me~