What is to be of noble blood but to say you are of sickness?

To say you have a history that is forever profaned by twist of those who rewrote history in the ignorance of future generations has not truth.

The bastards of creation are not but nothing in the eyes of one mistress scorned.

This is my message for the lost of the world. We are but scorned by the laws of humanity made from animals.

What is a dream but an age held in time?

Relationships are like lifetimes. They have a launch and conclusion.

People in life pass or gather collectively in soul groups. Watch how they gather in life to learn more.

Ever repeating the same things and walking on the skeletal ice of life until they get it right.

It maters not the world or the time the same ideas are unanimous. Life and relationships are one. They are all dreams. The last for a moment in the eyes of the divine like a snowflake. They are the song of the deceased memory. Sweet and bitter in torture by a velvet voiced mistress in a time of despair.

It can not be chained and the desire must burst forth in to bloom in longing. A beast free that moves with passion rips the desire of our souls unto the open.

"Perhaps this why a mother would rather hold her dead baby then cast it to the ground."

If you stop and take the moment and understand it is all but a dream you become phantasmal. We are dreams of the divine and the universe is a painting that forever changes.

We must think before we leap.

If not fate holds something deeper to take heed of.

The curse perhaps that creates a Harpy of a Woman. .. To forever desire love but to be removed from all.

One can take the role of Medusa and wait for someone to look her into the face and stand for truth or become a heart of stone destroying all that may have love in the heart. The fates have deeper meanings in this.

One night I dreamt I walked a forest where the trees had twisted faces and would cry blood. Instead of bark they had leather like skin and instead of leaves bones hung from the branches. The heavens above was dark ruby with swirls of grey. In the center of the forest a couple was making love and at first did not notice me.

I could care less. The woman turned her head at me. And had no lips and half the skin of her face was ripped off. As they where making love they where eating each other bit by bit is sexual desire.

To me this summed up love, life and relationships. When they where done the woman picked a long pointy broken bone from a near by tree. She proceeded to shove the bone into her lovers chest and fall to her knees and laugh. She then picked up a rock and began to smash his skull. Her laughter echoed about the wood like the shrieks of ravens. I just walked on quietly. "Nightmares to seem to not be avoided. I take it as normal now."

It seemed like a normal conclusion to such an act. I then woke up.

In dreams I have watched the astral court and its consternation. I have seen the heavens burn in the blue fire and looked into the eyes of the Gods to see truth.

Life holds little meaning to what is immortal.

We drain ourselves vastly into our personal desires. Dark and reaching out like a torn lover is our desire.

Speak not of trials. In the end all lessons are personal. That is the creature we become. We must take care of our own in order to find a purpose in life. We are all Animals and the word humanity gives some rights only in thoughts. Our actions define who we are not our lables.

A word alone proves nothing. We think words will save us. In truth this is folly.

We are prey or predator. If you look into your soul and feel my words you will know what you are.

Some shall call those who prey upon life a monster but we all must feed to live. We are monsters to both animals and plants. We have done crimes to one another that not even the deepest pit of Hades cannot create.

I have learned the only crime is to become the prey without knowing. A worse crime is to be a wasteful hunter. For some the desire of surrender is satisfying. To other it is a grand defeat.

Both have the same end.

All we encounter we become a part of even if it is not our will. Once you take in that energy it joins with you like a new limb. Take heed in what you look for.

We are all blind with knives in a war with no end.

We are all bastards in the eyes of fools. What is the world but a land filled with a choir of fools.

The song is weak and filled with the dialogue of a thousand dead worlds with all the mistakes repeating over and over.

"What is one life worth? What is a handful of lives worth to a thousand generations? Greed of preservation is the desire of the human race. Truly blood is life. Our seed we -plant into the garden of life is made to make the last generation fertilizer."

So, if they are of spirit are they only worth to be dung of your garden? Do you desire to be respected after your death? 

The tree of life is on fact on fire and burns with humanity for a short while.

We are all made to die. We seek out the mystery in hope that we may have power. If you truly desire power then just take it.

Limitations are created to stop Children from dreaming.

 If you understand your dreams you can create reality. We are all victims every one. One must become angry to understand this and understand what we are handed in life is not expectable.

All composition is created by the creation of reality. Al master works of art is created by not excepting that we can not do so. Some shall say all things start with Love.

Love is perhaps one of the most dangerous and justified things in all of creation.

Love is the greatest temptation. It is said. The need for Angels to make love was so great they cast off there wings and gave up immortality for a night of passion. The names of Angels mean little. The Romans of old would tell you they where the children of Venus. Perhaps, this is why Cupid rarely knew normal love and suffered greatly for it.

Hera Sent her Anglos "Iris" among the living to tell others of the truth of Love. She suffered greatly at the lust of Humans.

Love was a creation of the greatest of all darkness at the bottom of all planes. It is temptation when man twist it by his desires and it falls to become lust.

For many it is completion and most of all it is pain. It is madness in its most pure form. Without love there can be neither hate nor jealousy.

For what is to covet but to love something in lust? Light knows not love but cleansing from all that is not in its purity.

If the jester is truly impotent then the king must be blind and the knights agents of chaos. We must remove restriction from our loves but keep wisdom of how to behave.

All is a great puzzle that goes on forever. These words mean little but all will live them one way or another.