Tuesday, 10 March 2009

Words feel like death in my soul …

… but I'll post them on this fucking blog for your satisfaction, even if you don't need no satisfaction.

Great philosopher has spoken, there is no God, but there is. I have spoken to him. You realize what a fool you've been, with money. Nothing burns like an angel. I've always admired Satan's sense of humour. Atheism and supermen and immortality. Not real. God's love is real, but I can't feel it. I need a tonic. A wad of banknotes will just make me worse. Voices. It is all voices. But rarely my voices. The soul is immortal. But you can't live forever in the body. Irrefutable facts. I've had realizations. They don't cost anything. You can get them on any mountain, in any cave. Delusions. But nothing common about them. Special delusions. I don't expect you to understand. I don't understand, myself. I am certain of certain stuff. I know there is a desert. I know I am trapped in my despair. Maybe one day I will feel better. Could I feel any worse? This is what happens when you burn too much. I am like a fucking candle! Searching and burning. I look at you. I see you in visions. Are you aware of your despair? How much money do you have? I'm serious. What am I talking about? I'm sure you're perfectly happy with your life. Ha! Unconscious despair! That's what you have. You just don't know it. You've bought yourself a nice house, a nice car, a beautiful death wrapped in a beautiful life. One hundred holy gods couldn't drag you away. Couldn't drag me away. We are trapped. Without fantasies we would fall apart, someone said. But we are falling apart. Right now. This is the crack-up we've been waiting for. I am not a saint. I am not perfect. Who is? Many things still to discover.

It was definitely him. I spoke to him. Big Herb. Astral plane. What do you expect? What do you want from me? He was shouting things at the ghosts. Even the ghosts are afraid. Sometimes. But I was not afraid. I spoke to him. Made him see sense. Told him we needed help, here on earth. Have some mercy, for fuck's sake! That's what I screamed at him at midnight. Yes, I can scream as well. The ***** was there. An innocent bystander. I told him I would see him one of these nights, but he could never have imagined that it would be such a bleeding, howling night beyond the comforts of this earth, this familiar earth, where we all feel comfortable. Nothing to worry about here! Oh no. But there is something to worry about somewhere else.

There is a terrible price to pay for these visions. But I have my own way of doing things. I do not care about the price. I will pay any price. Instinct. Instinct is very important for me. I instinctively know. What do I know? I know nothing. Just like that fucking Socrates! I need a resurrection. I need one today. No one knows the troubles I've seen. Nausea. But what would God want? How would He want me to go about my business? He doesn't care about money. We don't have much to say to each other. It's a sad affair. But Jesus will put in a good word for me.

I am happy as long as I can hear the voices. They tell me everything I need to know. But I am a mystic. Words are not needed. Let's be silent.