Reverberations of a Transfiguration

Do not be fooled, as the steam of your transfiguration rises to meet Uranus in his realm, he will surely repudiate your efforts, and downcast you to scorn his wife.

But do not be perturbed, for Nereus awaits with outstretched arms to kindly grant you asylum. You will boil again with want, and evaporate to escape your physical state, but you will meet the same fate.

Again and again this will manifest, and you will doubt your efforts, but Mother Gaia watches with a timeless contempt that expands throughout the cosmos, and resuscitates your repeated gasps.

There will come a day when you reign supreme alongside your personal Master, and the echoes of both of your laughter will reverberate through the corridors of time. 

An Alex Jones Catholic Love Conspiracy

I once dated a girl who believed Catholics were a Roman Jesuit Satanic conspiracy.

She didn't know my family was Catholic. This didn't really bother me because I never did my first communion, nor did I ever go to Catechism. Therefore, I was safe from her persecution.

Besides, I was in love, and she looked good in a bikini. My heart was hers, and my cock was her bloodmeal.

Nowadays, I don't believe in romantic love anymore, for reasons that will remain left to the imagination.

If you see Alex Jones, tell him Beelzebub's a motherfucker.

Descent

Spiraling down from the sky, I waited on land with outstretched arms. She landed celestially with the grace and elegance of a hardened dancer.

As I carried her close in My arms, she noticed My own scorched wings, and interrogated Me.

I looked into her eyes, smiled, and whispered in her left ear, "I'm going to fuck the hubris out of your marrow." This silenced her, as she knew that I was her holy terror.

We walked toward our little cottage where she would accept the moon's mandate.

Ascent

She had the gift of flight, and she reveled in it.

Her friends and family warned her of Icarus' fate, but she reminded them of the other part of the myth that they had overlooked–that if she accepted complacency and flew too low to the sea, Poseidon would surely make her his bitch. So she soared.

Closer and closer toward the sun she ascended as I applauded and cheered.

The clouds lifted her up in eulogy.

Liturgical Responsibilities of a High Priestess

She was her tribe's high priestess, and as such, was responsible for overseeing that the male sacrifices were executed with the proper liturgy.

They were a morally diligent people, and only sacrificed sexual invalids to the Supreme Being in the sky.

A steady shellacking was administered across the testes with white sage bundles. Thereafter, their incantations would convulse and crescendo as the castrations consecrated the nirvana night air. 

Nebulous

And at once the crowd assailed the young girl, hurling insults and spewing hatred.

Seeing this injustice, The DragnMastr intervened and spoke thus:

"ENOUGH! Do NOT condemn this young girl, for she is My pupil! And the teachings are sound!

You who fetishize the concordance and nobility of the forest believe the roots beneath our feet bind each of its members together, but your vision is muddled and myopic! We are NOT all one. We are INDIVIDUALS.

Do NOT be like the stagnant tree who is rooted with rigidity! Be like an early morning mist who descends unto the bramble and brings relief from the overbearing sun. It is free to go where it pleases and disperses when the time is right. It is nebulous, and in motion. This weightlessness begets freedom, and freedom begets choice.

Be FREE!"

Upon hearing this, the over-zealous crowd dispersed into the awakening daylight of reality. 

Undulations

Undulating waves of sound serenaded the Amazonian crown canopy and reverberated in their ears.

Primordial vibrations trespassed unto the slumberland of their consciousness and educated the eternal id.

The mystical didgeridooist was given the keys to the holy kingdom of Imagination, only to be later crucified by Peter.

The Sword of Truth baptized many, in their own blood.  

A Pleasant Afternoon

All she wanted was a quiet little spot to sit down so that she could concentrate on survival.

The warm sunshine embracing her was pleasant, the gentle breeze caressing her beautiful face was pleasant, the excitement of being in a new town was pleasant.

Everything was pleasant. Apart from Beelzebub strangulating her possessed lungs and pissing occasionally on her tired feet, everything was, in fact, pleasant.

Some golden showers are of an internal nature.

Chapped

And when asked about Her Grandson, The Dragon Master's Grandmother spoke thus:

Verily, I say unto you...

As the wolves stalk their prey, and as the sage elucidates nomadic truth, so too will the naysayer pathetic worms be condemned to pussy-suckle in The Second Circle.

Chapped will their lips be.

Chapped will their spirit be.

Chapped will their hope for salvation be.

For their Heavenly Lord is My Grandson, and His FURY is their cross.

The Falafel Shack Magus Who Predicted the End of the World

We had broken through to the other side, and were welcomed by a magus who owned a falafel shack. She ordered a chicken falafel, and I the beef kabobs.

Death was who we were there to see, but decided it was probably a better idea to find a safe, quiet place to sit.

I looked into her honest eyes and saw that they had been anointed with the absurdism of the breeze.

I remember not liking the other side–the beer was foul there.

Maybe Death will still be there for us next time we visit–I hope so.

Pearl Necklace

What bedeviled me most about the entire episode, was the look in her possessed eyes as she petitioned me for her gift–a pearl necklace I projected onto her face.

She wore it proudly for me as she got up from her knees, walked across the hotel room, and kissed her boyfriend adoringly as he stroked his cock with indulgence.

They were in love, and it was beautiful.

Evening Rendezvous

As she waited for her bedroom sheets to finish washing, she contemplated what she had just done. She loved her boyfriend–it was evident from the vacant expression on her face.

There was a mournful air that asphyxiated the room as I dressed.

"Same time tomorrow?", I asked. 

"Please," she replied. 

I smiled, and made my way out the back door into the anonymity of the night.

As I turned the ignition key in my car, I could see her from across the street sitting in the living room, staring at some pictures on the wall as the washing machine tumbled.