Welcome to Gaia! ::

These are all my thoughts through high school and what not.

The first one is from when I was sixteen.

The second was a work in progress. I completed it a little while ago.

The third refers to a spiritual event about four or five years back and acts as a warning of the anti-martyr Ialdabaota, the Liar, who is truly a metaphor of the anti-assumed world. It's all pretty pathetic, but yeah...

- Behold, the Tree of Sin (Part One)
Behold, the Tree of Sin (Part One):

It is, perhaps, where I failed; was in mine growth in lack of sight befelled of unity. True is it, arrogant was my mind and closed was and does my heart remain, so distant have I been, all my life to this eternity. Might I now make a mense; only to reap the fruit of the tree of sin.

Are we happy, or do we seek happiness as a resort to sadness; that gape of the naught? Ignorance is as a breeding ground for lies. Some think knowledge is the cure. Woe for they have faltered. One must first embrace two things made quite evident in kabala if not for life itself in that death is our knowledge be. Once is understanding, twice is wisdom, three times is bliss. Forget the pursuit of knowledge and forget the circumstance of mortality. Knowledge is the unattainable, not the godhead.

Dearest children, how I await 'the mirth of infinity,' its bestowal upon this world only through the joining of your hearts...

(No doubt this writing shall find continuance in further manifestations, yet from here I have gone.)

- Tree of Sin (Part Two)
I've become so addicted to energy drinks as I have to the suffering, as fulfilling and sexy as it may have been, I wonder.....
When the ******** did this all happen to me? A puppet is as much its master as it is itself.
Did this all start when seeking whether to exist or partially exist or not at all? The master is no master at all. Just a fool, like me. I look at these angels right, and something feels familiar, something I almost come to reject, how horrible angels are, I too have become a demon.
No more am I a brother, but a member of this somewhat living organization, we together are an organism, perhaps just an organ?
No more living a plastic fantasy, for it has become part of reality, or more it happens to us less an illusion of pretend. It has always been real; we'd be off not admitting it.
To face the days, call their bluff, assuming their wrong is to assume we as well were not they and not go away so faulted. There is more to it the Beauty of the Cosmos spoke. So the beauty of the Cosmos did speak and to tell me the answers...
The more I live this life the more and more meaningless it becomes. Things have come and with them reason, but all else should go out and smoke its end no more. But, do I have the strength to go out not knowing how to live, and simply live? Is that what it means to live? Of course I have that strength, even the courage, though something in fear stops me.
If I am to live, I want more than this. I want power; I want reason, I want to want no longer in vain! If I am man, make me god, if I am a god, make me a demon. Then, give me more than to suffer, end the pettiness.
This vision that makes me laugh makes the world seem so hidden. What perhaps is the other place that wastes time we make our own? Is it here to unmake us? Or are we to be rid of it ourselves as it wastes the time we have made our own.
PS~ Excuse the cr*p sentence structure, it was just how was feeling

- Tree of Sin (Part Three)
Doesn't it suck when it feels like your life is in control of you?
I like to think that all days end on their own, but this is not so true to me anymore. Days are not their own to begin with. They rule the passing time throughout the world, but they rule and end that rule with the help of the world's inhabitants.
I now see and realize that we become our shackles, binding ourselves to that which controls us. Note that we are not forced to cage our hearts; nor are our hearts ever truly caged, even when they are crushed, locked away and forgotten. The soul may be with out death, but, it can also go with out life. But, it is then no longer of the living, and ceases to be on the level of the soul. And, then it is truly gone. That or a memory... Yet, the cage remains. So too shall the shackled heart. It cannot escape itself. The days know this, but, they also fear their own demise into the lost. These days are paranoid. By nature, they have become the way, yet they think they can lose it. Only in fear, can they lose themselves...
In the end, I must ask, do we live our own lives? My answer to this is that our lives kill us. It is a matter of whether or not you can recognize this self by the time this day has ended. For, in the end we are ourselves. Only in death do we grow, for better or for worse. This is a period of eventuation. We assume there is an end. And, so too, in the end shall I ask you this same question, dearest children.