Qliphoth or ghost in the machine (pt. 6)

[Sepia]

They are beautiful now, perhaps they have always been perhaps it was a different eye I used, perhaps I was someone else with different thoughts when I saw them for the first time, I might have changed, I might not have changed only realized that I have or should do or would do or could do

I have a recurring dream where I write a poem. The dream and the poem are always different but the title of the poem remains the same, I am a child of four, nothing more

Im going to watch my nephew as he turns four and I will answer you if it is sufficient or not but I am

a child of four, I will die a child of four and there will be no mother but no parent should outlive their child, they should never, it is the opposite of what should happen it might be me being conservative but bear with me, it might be the worst emotion I can imagine, that and or giving birth, I mean I can understand the love and the humanity of a future growing but there is also something more there, perhaps it was put there by hr giger, perhaps it wasnt but some say it is a disease

They say addiction is a disease and some say we are a virus, others will say anything so they can be portrayed as important and intelligent and some will just do something they are good at, do something good at their computers and they will be nerds but they will ask you

what can change the nature of a man?

and then they will present you with one of the most important experiences of the nineties and to me personally, it shows you only learn anything useful

there should be love, meeting us here at the threshold, the combination of worlds where men and lizards meet but the shadows are broken, the veil is true, it is true that all meetings end with departures but how those feasts will move and shatter the world and how a game of thrones will happen before we end

before we think, before we are and all dreams lie jumbled, lie sacred like lies and dreams but always closer to the lie, the lie to sleep, the lie to wake, the lie to dream, the lie to live, the lie to work the lie to exist the lie to love the lie to fear the lie to do because truth is something that hits us but it doesnt illuminate us, doesnt change us only make us into bitter comedians, thrown from windows, descending but not changing, dying, unchanged, knowing but unchanged

I know of worse deaths, I know some of the demons, they have sat with me and we have conversed and I have felt their nails like the first tendrils of mushroom making its way to where it is going feeling the tug of somethingmore, what michael bay calls the allspark that black stone down in mecca and the plateau of leng

As long as our evolution remains technology, no stories or experiences will be obsolete, everything will be the same or as solomon said, there is nothing new under the sun and you you fuckers you have said it, you have had it as a thought an idea and a concept but what if it was just a simple truth, told in the simplest of manners, where would your thoughts lead you?

What did you do when you found the abyss, when you saw the vortex and the maelstrom at the same time, watching you but with eyes more trained

There is only one road to hell and that is the one we travel and if you have to think about, what is there to fear for us in hell? A black sheep is still a sheep someone wise once said but you are allowed to choose and it is even sanctified by that dead dude who wrote the book and an ostrich or a czar can choose, it is the path with no choices that lead to a true hell

and some say the answers lie in a rock in australia, some say the queen of england has them or the bilderberg has them or mona lisa has them  just that someone has them, someone is possessing it all

like we possess the world, living ghosts kept alive by our ingenuity and our machines