You exist in an unfamilur world, your emotions and desires pull you out of what society in its infinte wisdom deems not politically correct. you struggle for years to come to terms with what has been pounded into your mind for a decade.

You despair in your singular uniqueness, you contemplate the terms of your reality. You struggle against what you know in your heart to be true, and try to fit yourself into a square hole.

Life speeds by you in a moment, the coil of mortality becomes rusted and brittle. Your life spirals into the Abyss and yet you do not yield .

Stripted of all personality, ego, and Id you float aimless thru the dawn of creation, and yet you do not yield.

Cradled in the source of all light and darkness, do you bask in the brightness or do you become smoke and whisper ?

Do you seek the truth of all things in the narrow space between them ?

As lines blur and light become dark, so the cycle begins. I sat at the steps of Keter, looked out over The Abyss pondering infinitum.

Life begins with a spark, which burns away the sludge of dreams.
Without dreams to restrain it Id wakes and searches out Ego.

And so it begins again, as it has repeated the event countless times before.

Time does not exist here.



"And I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him."