The devout men of our times are looking askance at the
fancied heroism that belies our betrayed berated fools that escalated from
Golgotha to organisms that underwent gregarious transformations. This thing
that we discern when we are firm in our earthen urn is like a chrysalis that
shall unearth us from the moldering rot of this scalding wounding womb that is
tomb. Here hear of the fearful mere maggots that scampered about without face
for an era of disgrace after meager portions of this vivid race to obtain
visceral grace from underneath an altar of our heaviest lace. This bind we find
when we climb high is too nigh to the underlying sigh that may arise of a
sudden and overtake miles of countryside wide for a deep disgorging of our
elemental tendrils that slither like snakeskins caught in a wind too mild for
singing. For what? For naught! And uncover from hidden bosoms our fiery
summits. Some stray too wildly from the traversed path of the ancients and
others whither too coldly upon vibrant moonscapes from where our magical
forebears took flight. Those effective creatures that spanned centuries of holy
putrefaction for the unholy purification of these rotten corpses are with us
still in the form of wind, star, and mountain. This furious flesh sack cannot
continue to track its passage under the sordid stares of the sun. Our solitary
journey to the nether world brings great joy due to the condensation of many
fickle spoons into their counterparts in jest. This sorry tale that was told
for many days of this age did not succeed in bringing us to more frequently
elated states. However, neither did your yearning suffice to make men rejoice
upon the unearthing of our precious hearts of diamond rock. Those wicked curves
of seduction that shackled our matrimonial eyes into furor of bondage are
continuously gnawing at our marrow. One day we will be split open and gush our
innards to the smiling skies. These emanations of our visceral branches will
make many creatures subside their rides and will arrive as a vicious tide that
will then recede in due time. At repeated intervals it will reengage our
hideous sides and turn us back towards the glorious rise. This course has been
drawn for us since the beginning of time. But a day will come when the
rollercoaster will glide beyond its rails. The wheel that steers will no longer
be here and my sucking tentacles will retract into a primordial blob. An
undifferentiated entity of infinite potential, as the unlimited proliferative
capacity is revealed to the heavens. The blind urge will be unwilled. The wise
love will be our guide. The higher realms will house our loftier forms. The greatest
sages will point at the moon. The foolish miserable masses will follow slowly. Eventually
our world will be annihilated. Finally, the story will be concluded. This will
not happen in a time that is later from the current time. Rather, it is a state
that occurs outside of time. Involved in the transcendence that gestates this
divine sign, we will be evolved and a nothing will replace the nothings of our
time.