shit tickets

Just picked up a few new books. Some fiction for a change.  currently reading The Western Lands by W.S. Burroughs, Donald Tyson's The Dreamworld of H.P. Lovecraft, Aleister Crowley and the Hidden God by Kenneth Grant, and The Origin of Consciousness in the breakdown of the Bicameral Mind by Julian Jaynes.

Currently creating: My own personal Book of the Law, Four paintings: one mandala, one strange geometric cubisism surrealism, one based on the mauve zone, and finishing another on primal aggression and violent intoxication.

A collage piece based on my interpretation of the Stele of Revealing. (shrine to anima and animus)

A music composition arranged around the Qabalistic Qliphoth.

A graphic Novel titled Saehrimnir.

An audio visual collaboration.

Currently listening to Charles Manson's Lie album, Alejandro's Holy Mountain Soundtrack, and Swans.

Monad the Gonad

Living with Rhys, feels like having Pan as a roomate. The way he walks around on his toes as the satyr. His silly sense of humor and good nature. He is allergic to the tedious drama that revolves like a clunky dance in the social games. 

Yes, he remains a daily reminder. A friend in good spirits. The embodiment of the phrase: "why so serious?"

He just read this and said "you are so stupid with your satyr satire." "Let's play magic." 

Magick seems ridiculous in the midst of Magic the Gathering.  

subdued sterile innoculated

In and up with control
Fury and sick says good Dog, sit and listen.
Get cut up and spit up.
Last seconds edit it out.
Show death threats in through glass
everywhere we go arrested hospital visits
cage gig
just plug the wait
the life gimmick
hoping a kill in my name
cult guest list
nice clean good job
pretty few people taken
conversation battle war
kill the audience

don't know why

source time

pretty much the same sane

trust no

report

as far as 

keeping me here

reasons

beyond crime

Back giving past

system trusted

don't believe a thing

reputation an average performer

a therapeutic release

the body as a weapon

go with moods

not life planned

witness it

feel it

shove the point in your ass

don't set limits

shitting fluids

eating

nothing at all

not for entertainment

anything goes war

Fought back

welcome that

endure their share

full acceleration

indestructible

normal people live

take whatever

no tomorrow

roulette wheel government

In here to begin with

paint the picture asshole

come and go as you please

be alone

out fascinating,genius, handcuffed butt fucked

looking into this

approached and hung up

newspaper notoriety party

relatives over power

Destroy the epoch

soft rebuild

the mission goes to the end

put fear in peoples hearts

take it out at the base

distributors industry sacrifice

compulsive masturbator

dropping babies down the shower wall

get off.

Millipede Lubricant

Ancestor simulation.

Yes the existence concedes to the chance and possibility. Nueroengrams. Shit, might this extend out to the furthest points? Back to the atomic path origin. 

Yeah, brush strokes and passages. 

Like masturbation. In the end, you end up having just fucked yourself. 

Scold's Bridle

Why? Science does not answer why, but how.
Why is the plea explanation. The salve of psalm.
A lie of logic.

Like shit.
Just like this worthless suck.
Sick of it. You and the colors of your face.
Take off that death trend
small fragile violent wrath
you are nothing after the storm
a vacant space with the eyes of a lost child
no tit for you
starve in that skeletal coffin
condemned to your own macabre escapism

You up there
now this breeze and you can only concentrate on your stilts
not a vantage but your disorienting crutches
One step at a time
pull and lean into it

Curb the muzzle
save that face
dimestore prophet
Not that I give two shits, but three
nestle on your opinion
roost on that coddled saffron burned maggot filament

Why do I  wake like this?
How do I wake like this.
By wearing a mirror.

"Deity mode of speech...

Guerin

...allows even the most ignorant to transform their opinions magically into god-like pronouncements on the nature of things"-Kellogg and Bourland

Tonight I read the Spider Surah (29) before bed. My head stirred with noise. I imagined a spider weaving a nest within my skull. I considered this round orb dense and increasing in mass. Yet the mass assumed the form of contraction. A weight of pressure measured in units of implosive constriction. 

On the night stand next to me sits a mason jar. In this mason jar resides a black widow. I share my sleep with her. Her coal black silhouette poised like a frozen acrobat upon invisible line. Patient and gentle with her soft rigidity, ready for fluid motion through her sylph limbs; eight en pointe. 

I wake and look to see if she still lies beside me. A deadly lover. An irresponsible dreamer. Infatuation that stirs the venom of Eros. The lascivious digestive juices. To be clear: I do not fuck spiders. I just write them love letters. 

An ode to a Ghetto Bitch

Your bulbous black booty all up on the table. 

Legs that hold that shit down

Girl, yo grill be Bizaat!

Be on that case like a bondsman

You got me out on bail yo(sp)

Got me in dat pocket

With that hourglass

straight up on dat ass

I figure, we can kick it some time

you killin it supuh fly

spinnin str8 h8

them kids on reduced rate

them kids aint mine

but we get you some wic

I call you on that line

gimme them numbuhs

fuck them suckuhs

this mothfuckuh droppin 

like a jumpuh

vicious on that tonic

chillin like yo granny smokin all that chronic

this aint no game

gimme sum of dat pain

you know my name

big dawg mickey d pushin

on that h town fang fame

I digress. 

Split Sleep

A Congress of Owls Sigil Working

The Polyphasic Sleep and traversing the Mauve Zone. At the moment, working with an Everyman with 2 naps. Bumped up the water intake and physical activity. Integrated more Soylent to the regime.

This is the app being used to assist in the facilitation of lucidity and scheduling:

Lucid Dreamer 

Yeah, trimming down the coffee is going to be necessary. At least at the AA meetings. Oh shit, yeah, I made a year sober. Think it has been since 5th grade that I have visited this head space. The voice recording feature for journals on this application is really convenient. Just wake up and speak into the mic.

This isn't the first experiment with polyphasic sleep. I attempted the Uberman last year. To much coffee and weed broke me down within a week. weak. The key features of more active time and lucid dreams backs up the basis of this next go 'round. The latter being of significant importance to magickal practices.

Trailer Magick. Look at the yard. You use what is on hand. Like Hoodoo. My friend Paloma has been of great influence in that perspective. The Night side of the tree is where I have been drawn. Recently  obtained the shadow tarot deck.

http://www.shadowtarot.net/

Clipping,it was alright. Might need another listen.

mr traumatik

My Father is currently in Uruguay. My Brother is on the Truman out in the Atlantic. Rhys made out with some girl for the first time. Been painting. 

Grant has elucidated so much of my personal experiences in the Arts

Great album. Reminds me of Defacto

Dogecoin?

My Dreamachine

Lumen: 40-60 watts

78 rpm closed eyes

45 rpm open eyes

illuminate the ghetto, the hood of Secret Chiefs

The slant
merging in the ambiguous formless
a staging area
we is a term for passengers
faithful departure, cattle cars

this non locality is a host
those visitors are vectors
a holiday in the realm of hungry ghosts
watch them roam behind glass
the standards of the herd differ from the pact of the pack

The stent
tied into the network
a prison kite trapped in your dying tree
the night-side is where you will find the real me

Not among the ideal delicacies of the inferiority complex control
here, nested and dormant in that dope collapsed ditch
that hidden serpent lying in the filth
that sacred excrement paste sealing your fate behind that fraudulent death mask

No soliciting.
Don't try to peddle those chocolate dipped isms
Don't offer those compound interest plans of immortality  credits
your carrion courier can save those advertisements of non-import
those limited time shares of rectal export

This time is already on a lease
this tenant owes the Lord of Land
the cohabitant insects govern a swarm of stinging stingy sentinels
a herpetic lesion spilling jism and djinn
into a earthen chalice of living information

She begat the scat, fertile night soil
He skull fucked that bitch with his shit flavor sun beam
now a child controls this anal territory

maturation of an apocalyptic orgasm
salt the earth
burn out the sun
turn the oceans to water

the time of judgement is not cumming
the flesh and heart is now
choose your own adventure
flip to your dog eared dogma
or write the unwritten

Shiofuki of the Goddess
suspends the animation of that blooming
blue lotus
giving the God-head
pigs rooting in red lunar blood

twenty three days of coitus
cephalic celestial lust
the hidden god of fuck
pearls spill on the breasts of swine


swallowing your universe
folding the innerverse
there is no subtraction nor addition
the infrared bondage of innate affliction

The spear of Christ is Set
lodged in ISIS rejoicing
a self dual  pyramid
 infectious identification with the id
 
storms gather around the citadel
three tribes of infidels

Let me leave through a hole in the head
penetrated pesh kabz through the neck
cinch the tie around a government
suited for indifference

weeping tears from hollow bodies
emaciated from the spiritual fast
I am a thorn in your backside
a white knuckled fist in your royal ass
ripping out your bowels
with a length of disinterest

quanta unit of probablity
particles reacting
in the suck of this black whole
an incoherent mess
stained on the fabric of of your reality

"troll the respawn jeremy"