One Year. 165 Hours. The Final Product.
Category: 7
I Don’t Know How To Tell You
Sometime I speak to other ex-Move of god cult members, and I know things I don’t know how to approach; like their parent being a pedophile. I listen to their pain, and what affected them, and the more I listen, the more I understand how deeply dissecting mind control is. There is a different perspective … Continue reading I Don’t Know How To Tell You
Words From My Father
"We can love, we can hate, and even kill, with the choice we decide to make with those cells. That choice still resides within the single individual."
The Birth of Death
In battle, small platoons take hold positions. Their leaders converse and strategize. It is neither a battle they plan to fight nor a war they wish to start. It will be a complete conquering, and this must be a smooth sweep. Such things are not decided upon quickly. Every angle is inspected thoroughly and repeatedly. … Continue reading The Birth of Death
The Woven Sea
My gold is woven in possibilities and endless patterns of emerging change.
Revealing is Healing
It is indeed a time of revealing. In an instant, the nastiest, most profane and viral parts of the human unearth themselves.
Absence of Belief
How to separate truth from fiction? There is only one way. First, you must become completely pure into yourself. How, you ask?
To Be a Warrior
To be a warrior one must learn to wait silently in the shadows. We must gather our quiet into the arching pull back of our bow. We must watch. We must observe. We must not fall into senses of time. To be a warrior one must paint themselves into the colors of their own vulnerability, … Continue reading To Be a Warrior
She Cannot Watch
Sometimes it's best for her not to watch, but instead, to hold space and energy which will be needed to help clean up the aftermath.
Abstract Aberration
The Original One wavers, lazily sleeping, snacking and avoiding. Might I silence the fire, burning and buzzing in the spine? We run into the trails, avoiding the undergrowth of tree roots pushing their way through the ground. We grab at leafy branches. She’s an avalanche avoiding her own rubble. Sideways in the gradients lingering around … Continue reading Abstract Aberration
Listening To Molecules
who stole your pearls? who ripped into your shell without mercy, leaving you shattered, thirsting; mourning? who broke you and told you that you weren't the all supreme of your own being? who closed your eyes; made your love die, until every cell, each fiber, ached from the heartbreak? who reminds you of your exquisite … Continue reading Listening To Molecules
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