The world is going up in flames of inevitability; disaster upon disaster signaling the end. Extremists on one hand, and PC babies on the other; yearning erotically for each other. Ragnarök is here.
That said, our life is great. We have health, wealth and length of days, and we can choose what we want to do and with whom we wish to associate. Posterboys & girls of Thelema in general and of Liber Oz in particular.
We shine in this darkness without caring whether anyone notices. The days of altruism and compassion are long gone; lost in a mist of fake forgiveness and vague future remorse. There is nothing to say to others. Essentially they lost the game because of the imposed inability to leave the mirror. You can only see yourself in the darkness; never in a mirror which some arbitrary authority has placed in front of you.
The realisation that some people are inferior and try to feed off of you under an umbrella of past friendships can be a very hard nut to crack, but crack it must. Great learning experiences; unfettering yourself from others’ grips of desperation.
We shine in that darkness; beacons in the accumulated bad consciousnesses masquerading as gay unconsciousnesses. Cock a thoughtful eye in the blast of the enforced rays of carefree moral morsels. Read: compensation alert, all night and all day long.
Silence, solitude and twilight… That’s where and when the realisation hits you, and you are truly free to create.
Growth needs restraint, resistance, and human culture is certainly no exception. If energy is constant in its leveling, its movements, and in its transformation, then what does it ultimately matter? Let it burn. Let it burn to cinders and ashes. Life is unstoppable and ever transforming the base to the refined, and then back again. That said, our life is great, and we roam on in our own illusions and desillusions, and very happy to be able to.
