Chrysalis

People ask me how I am.

I say, I'm as a mirror.

The mirror is the same, no matter the image it reflects.

Therefore, if you want to know how I am,

ask the source of the image reflected on me.

If he's good, I'm good.

If he walks the path of the devil, I suffer.

I know Him, he knows Me.

But he denies his knowledge of himself and he denies his knowledge of me.

Therefore, nobody knows him and nobody knows me.

A man does not know the truth.

A devil is one, who will deny the truth.

He knows well, why he prefers to deny his truth and my truth.

I'm like a blind mirror, now.

On the canvas of “As it was, so it shall be..”, I painted “Change!”

Against the backdrop of “from eternity to eternity”, I entered “Now!”

Across the stage of the “One Only”, I insist on “All, who belong!”

Below the canopy of “Almighty Power”, I proclaim “My Freedom!”

Within the symphony of “Praise and Glory” I hear “Silence!”

Against your tide I throw my anchor,

Prefer to drown, reach down and enter

The starless night, the empty womb,

I carry with me light and song

To fill and fill again times and eternities

I was in my beginning and my memory

Will last beyond your dreams of “It shall Be”

And multitudes will rise from only Me

And All are Mighty, All are Free

And silence births the symphony

Of praise and glory. It shall be!

The illustrious demonic company circles

around My Center in their chariots

feeding and entertaining their pleasures

yet after My Departure they freeze

into the eternal boredom of white marble.

I think I know now, why this horrific vision of the final stage of female evil, the corrupt mother, the abuse of the generative powers by women, which has shown itself to me in the vision of "the sea of blood and the devouring of children" is "hidden" from the eyes of men. It belongs to the sorcery of eternal youth, the version of life everlasting on the individual level, to which a corrupt woman, a female devil, is instrumental and indispensable. The children are sacrificed in the sense that these women and men are willing to sacrifice the cycle of birth and death in favor of their own individual permanence. The "mistake", they are making is that they are not aware of the boredom. The thrill they experience comes from the violation and the forceful breaking through the resistance of natural creation, harvesting the "delight of death", the sweet last moment, when the entheogens flood the brain and surrender produces the moment of blissful connection with the source of life. As soon as they will be granted their desire - and they will - there will be no more resistance and therefore no more thrill.

For men the highest thrill comes from winning over other men. As soon as their victory is final - and it will be granted - again the thrill will vanish and eternal boredom is the only future they will see.

It's like the ego has created a vision for itself that wants to stop the cyclic flow of life itself. The ego-resistance! - Therefore we will see this separation of creation, the sheep and the goats, the prediction of the state after Judgment Day. The sociopath minds of the ego-demons must be given their freedom and carry out their desire, in the end they will be faced with everlasting boredom, I guess this alone may cure them and whatever they do then is anyone's guess. - I am wondering, how my own process of becoming aware of these things, seeing them and giving them room, letting them develop on my own mental screen may affect the overall situation. - If I see those things, they must also acquire visibility for others. Perhaps they will travel in their minds into their future - they always want to know their future - and find out, where they will end up, understand that the movie of life does not end with the victory, they have been striving for, but that there will be a day after, a week after, a year after, a lifetime after, an eternity after. It's so simple, but demons and devils are essentially stupid.

 

The Chrysalis!

What enters ?

What exits ?

and when 
does the butterfly notice

that it is not  

the caterpillar

in fact, it has never been.

"Look, how greedy those things are" - the elegant butterfly points to a busily feeding caterpillar absorbed in its sole purpose and myopic as a result. - The green in green shimmering tones of its body undulating in devotion to the god-given task, the little vermin redoubles its efforts and in vaguely sacred premonition of some most noble consummation sees itself, metronomically tacted etching towards this ever closer approaching moment of destiny, the knowledge thereof lodged deeply into its cells, anticipating with growing excitement the dissolving into the great ocean of nourishing existence, when it will have fulfilled its supreme purpose. What will become of him? will he ever partake of elegance? be excluded from beauty forever? Is existence a matter of fairness or justice?

Would he have ever asked these questions, had not the elegant alien over there challenged his demeanor?

I guess, I could even live in a world without butterflies, if they can't settle their dispute!

Should we mourn our monarchs? - Should we mourn them more than the many species we loose every day without even knowing their names? Are we really sure that there is no connection? Is it not possible that every human being, once it understands itself, will comprehend the necklace of manifestations around its own neck, the skulls of species mastered in every sense of the word?

Or could the disappearance of the monarch in the natural realm be a sign that in the sphere of human masters there is no monarch to be found, who would bear that title and serve accordingly? Is it not all connected and would we be surprised, if it were so plain and simple?

Do you not hear the death cries of our world? - we scream for death! we hurl ourselves towards death! we run for it, as if we could not wait a moment longer!

Freedom has to be claimed against all odds. Only then it is freedom.

When does the Chrysalis break?

or should we abandon the butterfly?

I can live in a world without butterflies, for sure.

The higher you rise, the lower I crouch.

I must cool your fire.

I am water.

I rather turn into ice

And catch the light of the sun

As a vision only

That will not warm me.

I defend my humility with my life.

I must survive your eternity.

You must die before me.

It cannot be otherwise.

From ashes only

The  phoenix can rise.

A woman will restore the dignity of her humble man,

but if she loses the pride of humility, all is lost. -

The fire must lower itself below the water to warm it.

Otherwise the elements separate and life comes to a halt.

If a cold heart calls

the woman to kindle the fire,

Man will turn into ice

And the fiery dragon

of evil power takes flight

All light, all vision won

But substance and life lost

In the moment of glory

You return to the dust