Violent liar kills your inner self treating you like a dog:the dog was lucky

Violent liar kills your inner self treating you like a dog:the dog was lucky



he listens to squeals of my dog dying in his mother’s house by hanging

the signs= he cries-threats-manipulates-jealous-obsessive-

Continue reading “Violent liar kills your inner self treating you like a dog:the dog was lucky”

Once Eros arrives Thanatos cannot be far behind and life cycle of monarch butterfly

Once Eros arrives Thanatos cannot be far behind

and life cycle of monarch butterfly

She was in death’s pupa stage, it had cast its mantle over her and she never left.

It squeezed her so tight she couldn’t breath. This instar is a temporary cover to protect you from the initial state of shock. You have five instars she hadn’t left one

Death at any time is difficult, sudden death is like Sisyphus hiding from it, it is going to get you, and you just can’t prepare for it.

She wasn’t prepared.

She needs now to peep out at the temporal world and in time she will see the eternal and peace.

The thread of death is never cut, only the thread of life is cut.

You can never forget anything that is connected to the Gods.

Once the thread of someone’s life is cut it will never be severed from your own self.

Pulling off the pupa is difficult you can’t force it but you can help it. As she lay transfixed the wind of her hands went over her body.

She continued telling her that the negative spirits and energy were being pulled out of her.

Don’t fight it.

The panic rose. Slowly she was told let it out as the wind of her hands dragged all her energy away.

She herself could feel the strength of her; it was if the instars had welded together, she asked her to sit up.

Her back was a selection of monticule like calcified stones; a cold stiff chrysalis where kneading them did nothing.

She pulled back her shoulder and pressed her vertebrae, all the way down tittles of ice like ore, this metamorphoses would take time. She tried the other shoulder gently forcing it as far back as it would go.

She sighed.

So did she.


She lay back down, wait there, she ran to the attic for a crystal and oil.

When she came back fear was washing over her, being alone in this state is punishment.

She placed the crystal on her head and got her to smell the oil.

She wanted to talk but sometimes the talk is over, it’s now doing time.

Continuously she swept her hands over her, pulling from the stomach, releasing tightness.

Then the head where she was crucified by thoughts and feverish memories.

Shush came into the room and stood mesmerised.

The intensity of this ritual was exhausting she felt the perspiration running down her back.

Would you sit up?

And they talked then for an hour.

Talk was of












David Bowie Blackstar and concatenations BEYOND THE SAVIOUR

David Bowie Blackstar and concatenations


The wind carried her name across the roof.

Then she yelped her name again more shrill this time like a puppy in bag heading for the river.

It pierced the air like a silent alarm. Contained and guttural, she knew the sound of that pitch; it meant save me, I’m floundering grasping at my life.

She put a shush finger to her lips, and he knew what it meant.

His startled eyes told their own story.

When she opened the door she passed her by ‘I can’t take it any more’ I can’t breath’.

She hurried her out to the back and let her sit; her stalagmite back struggled in the curve of the seat.

Her face contorted with shiny rows of furrows history jammed into the folds.

Her eyes vacant and entreating kill me, quench this fire.

I’m dying.Concatenations BEYOND THE SAVIOUR and david bowie blackstar

It’s natural to run when the mind explodes having no particular resting place makes it worse having no one is worse again.

Run to where is the thing. Not many places to go.

Walk the dog.

Concatenations BEYOND THE SAVIOUR and david bowie blackstarWalk to the shop.

Walk to the church.

Walk to no destination.

Walk to the local medical centre.

When you are crushed it is rest the body is asking for.

She resists this.

The temporal appears as solace, the spiritual is where it lies.

She tells her to go into the sitting room and says lie there.

Lie down there.

Fixing the cushions for her head to rest.

I can’t breath.

She lifted her jumper and felt her gut, a jumping palpitating heart was in there. Her hands pressed gently and she could feel her life in her organs. Each marching to the sound of the synaptic beats laced with pharma inhibitors death can be a calling when you are in this state.

That stare falling into the cosmic wilderness, a primeval rebirth waiting for the cord to be cut. The weight of life’s labyrinth pulled her under to hellfire. Destroyed.

She got a stone and placed it on her navel cold and diverting. She looked askance, her eyes wide, pupils pinpoints and she was frozen stiff with fervid anxiety.

Catatonia’s friend the paradox.

In revocation she will lose something.


But will gain something.

Mastery of reason.

It won’t happen she is too hurt, scarred, scared, confused and astrobleme on this earth wishing for a meteor collision.

Too late.

The game is over.







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