(being a publication of the we were never (w)here order in class b.s, or f it.. even we're not sure which..)
"..there are certain people who will sneer at what I have to say but they do not matter. In fact, they do not really exist..."
- Michael Bertiaux, Voudon Gnostic Workbook
..only the masters gnow the ways of the masters..& no one else can; for it's not for them..
..she said 'trajectory'! ..say, this should be a drinking game..
You said we are all made of clay in that mythical way
0ff the rails.
Spawned and wronged.
1doling over an ordained axiom to conduct and kickstart our caboose.
0ur current: state:
Any wing you choose will always be the mistake.
Your balls destined (2b) head deep in dessert.
Chronicled in the glory of shit.
Resignations. Rock n roll.
Blitzing out on German bop.
You ain’t never heard it pop!
Give us a kiss in the starfish of the abyss.
A revolution in my head never gunna stop.
A little death tonight, what’s a body count on the dance floor.
h0ur impulse far from shore.
Bow to the revolts. Say on the horn, we don’t abide by corn.
Children of the run, no longer will
live by the gun.
Quicker than life itself.
Hammering at the sun.
Blade blazed in the ink
of satan’s dink.
Your slaughter in the fjord,
to end my lord.
Ain’t going to change.
Reinforcing the iron uncertain.
Frosted with a moneyshot of lemmings.
Fattened on the chew.
I don’t mean to say, that I hate you.
But you’re a liar of a saint,
Rotting in royal taint, Mr. Grinch.
Just fading paint.
The echo of a lover, down an alley, without a cigarette.
Just another step in the wrong shadow.
As you struggle
to the surface
Clap from above, gulp from below.
No such thing as plunge, there is only you.
Ego crashing into awareness.
Graffiti on the hull of soul.
Rings of son
Always in cahoots with the boss’s boots
Up the ass.
forever in smoke.
Regret that we ever spoke.
And the plump bifocal visions cemented in flight.
The future. The idea.
The dream oh the flight. Towards the light!
Seagulls choking on Cosmic Debris.
Con/f/9‘s cast upon you and me.
Raisined relationships of rationed reason.
Bitter tasting prison is the season.
A funky old stink you been stacking on the tooth of ego.
Isn’t it so sweet that oh baby that there ain’t no truth.
You crazy cats, with your banquets of rats.
Skiing in the pokonos,
with your fancy hats,
the Sons of Cronos
Selling your Jesus to me.
Dry as a feather
Falling from a tree
Through the motions of a clown you whisper,
We are the flicker in the sea..
..& so we've come back around to the twin pillars at the end of the world, where everything began; Jupiter & Saturn..tohu & bohu, jakin & boaz..
..as is the norm & as per the uje, these poor new age fools have it wrong (..& are you surprised? really..)..or rather they only know the half of it (at best)..
..it's not really that seeing 11's, or 11:11, or 22, or some other "angel number" (whatev the f that's meant to mean) is auspicious..
..rather, when you see these numbers, you're in what I like to call "11 time"..it's a whole other flow within reality, like an energetic current of power, that you're moving through or that's moving through you (in fact both ideas only convey a part of the truth, so let's use both to balance it out)
..& as for it being auspicious, well..as are all the blessings from the spirits, whether it's for benefit or detriment is up to you..the point is that this is beside the point..use the energy while it's been made available, is what's important to note..
..& "esoterical murder"..do you think those suckers fell for it (or perhaps more to the point, do you think they'll fall for this feint here in which I half-heartedly attempt to deny it!? 🤔🤨).."these are dead, these fellows; they feel not"..I simply & helpfully demonstrated this fact to them..in the end, let's say, they came to see things my way...🧐..that they were dangerous degenerates who wanted me dead, who were destroying their own future with their hands might or might not also have factored in there somewhere I guess..
..or do u think these aforementioned alien experiments have something to do with the rona apocalypse!? 😳🤯.. here's a con spiracy theory for you (& I think we really should publish this): what if the new age is resulting in new generations of X-Men style mutants (as indeed was clearly hinted in a previous issue of this very publication 🧐) & this previously nonexistent Corona virus is one of the detectable effects of their powers 🙀🙀🙀
..so, then, you fear death, is it..? ..then I've @LLready one...I @LLways win, you see..cuz I don't..fear death, that is..see, me & death are friends..& neither my friends betray me, nor me them; forev & whatev, amen..
Time recurs, returns, replaces what it makes. We work with time like the tailor with their fold of cloth, stitching together moments in memory; creating loops in the fabric of rhyme. The wheel turns and while spinning threads of thought we can draw out silver, or we can draw out gold, or we can draw out on our tracing board in dark, chaotic and confused terror, nightmares weft of the painful shadows of the past. While walking on, we flicker back in glimpses to our history, reinforcing stories of ourselves in one way or which another - strong, triumphant or failing, down.
The problem which is, however, while we are in the business of isness, that the strongest marks on our cortices are often those same grey spirals which we must struggle to erase. They are those things that went wrong, those things that stand out in their stark differentiation from the usual flux - the bizarre can truly be hypnotic.
When, if ever, you stop to think on thought itself and from whence that movement takes its course, you may just find your self an island fish inside a river which at best you can but a bit direct. To latch on and say: “these thoughts are mine”, makes you party to any perverted vagary that makes your way. The seeds you take and plant, will grow in you to scenes at least as real as any dream; but, who the sower is, take care and not what seems, the spirits in the wind may try to make it be that your are them and not your being.
We are not atoms, all alone - all powerful in standing unswayed by the things that make our way, and passing by suggest a path that we could take. By choosing to say: “all these thoughts I hear inside my mind, are not all mine”, we can start to cultivate our inner self and cut the weeds to the wind. If the thoughts are not ours, they must have come from some where else, and why? For something to be, something else must not - in the business of isness, what is, is made of what isn’t.
"one has not lived who has not seen the hand that kills itself..con siderately"
..hello; my name is shades (thus named because I much prefer exploring the dark to visualizing a bright blaze)..& I'm not interested in being a member of any club that would have me to begin with..
..& here is perhaps where my writing is at its most poignantly autobiographical..you see, I can't think of anything more tedious than success..
..story of my life, actually..once I've succeeded at something, once I've attained the long-sought & hard-fought objective, it doesn't take long for me to real lies the vanity of it..
..it's the re:petition that gets me; the tedium of doing the same thing over & over again..isn't life too short for that kind of shit..?
..I'm bored just thinking about it..
..in point of fact the only field in which I have felt I was really granted success was the esoteric, and this because I started on this path very young, and in that innocence came upon an aetheric or astral thread which, even by then I gnew, would lead me to occult success merely by following or tracing it, & @LLmost in spite of myself..
..& so, once again, I find myself alone, with my pen & my sword.. solitary archetypal warrior-poet(-philosopher) roaming the somber, desolate wasteland between the end of the old world & a dawning new age..
..& no I'm not done yet, actually..I haven't even begun yet.. actually,
"whoever is the last one standing is the one who succeeds"
-from the anime Great Pretender
of fraternity & baca bacashi (as the Japanese might say)
.. we've spoken of the we were never (w)here order, but what is that, exactly..? Is it an evolution, an attempt to update the venerable A:.A:..? Is it an informal designation to refer to any and all those seeking to further the Great Work in a more or less explicit way..?
Perhaps it is both of these and more besides, but arguably more important than who is what: what is its objective, & when can we say that it has attained success..? ..& at least potentially more pertinent than that & this: what is success to begin with? Hmm....?
..& I heard the sound of bells or a strange drum rhythm, & then I was there, with my spirit friends..
..a thing about our text, it shimmers a bit, & the next thing you gnow you can't tell if it's reading you or if you're reading it..
..we just win, man; it justifies itself..
..any idiot can succeed..the whole chaLLenge is to attain to success doing the right thing in the right way..
..you have to embrace your so-called 'destiny'..one thing I've learned. do what thou wilted or wilting or will wilt shall be the hole in wall?
..or some such non sense in any case..in other words escaping your own success is a waste of thyme, & this more than likely in addition to other things besides..
..success is also a kind of failure. once you've succeeded, where is there to go from there? that's the problem with success, you see; it destroys just as surely as if you'd failed..
..no need to look far for an example, a case in point of you will; just look at us. After successfully foreseeing the end of an old world order & the beginning of a brand new Age of Aquarius, and con vincing hundreds (arguably we slightly exaggerate 🤔) that this is what's happening, we've degenerated to the level you see hear today ..🤨
..& then, you who so highly value success, do you even gnow what success really is..? Success is taking something from someone else & con vincing them it's for the best. An ugly business, & why the successful are generally such terrible people..we told you reality itself was a con..or did you think we were somehow speaking figuratively.. 🧐
The lost art/science/knowledge of the ancient civilizations, Atlantis etc is easy to identify but difficult to describe for us today, living as we do in a world of matter; hypnotized by our own technical achievements.. eternal souls trapped in a mockery of a world of objects, many of our own creation..quite simply, it is energetics..
..what everyone's afraid of is sincerity; honesty..the truth, actu@LLy..that's why we dis guise it so diligently....