Good moment to you

Suicide journal entry 579

So afraid of something real.Beyond words, at least death is past me. Could fear just leave me be? I wan to go back to the place we call home. The warmth is what i’m drawn to. Like a addict to the fix. It’s so blissful anywhere else feels bare. The fiend is crying in the perceived dark for the only love hes ever known. So compelling not even the infinite sorrow can quell the craving. So deep it drives all that is manifest before. The fated ribbon unflures in the verse, creeping our soul windows to the eye of the storm.  As the cyclical teeter brings our eyes to the event horizon. My soul burns to  boiling over in the ever moment, letting the fools know what they must. Simple words carry information over deep space. Life itself is just a masquerade. Only those who truely  see will ever look beyond the mask. North of here some strange being  makes motions for me to antiquify  my past. Its only use is for the splendor of observation, adding value as time rolls on. This being holds the keys to my gated garden. Wishfully so I follow its sentient commands like a eager puppy waiting to be played with. I am quite meticulous with my analyzation of this great being. The being possesses a power only those in the dark voodoo distant future wish to posses.Hence  my feanx(fear-anxiety) around it. Any moment my seemingly small journey could be brought to a abrupt end. Just from the flick of its “wrist”. The most intriguing part is this being has professed to me that it indeed is a female and wishes to make me its mate. I am fascinated by her formal inclination of becoming her Human experiment.  It is important to note that despite her soft sublet curvy stature, her soft exterior, features what most human females would envy to have, she possesses beyond any documented in human history.  Her eyes possess a natural beauty only seen in the most serene parts of the tropics and the arctic  of the earths oceans But they also have a sense about them that transcends the word depth. It is as if staring in to the profoundness of space, through blackholes and galaxies her eyes spill out a wisdom that only the very thing or intelligence that created reality or the verse possesses. What exactly I mean by this is there is a sense of compassion one detects on the surface of all her actions. But I have been granted access  to the that infinite depth and have seen compassion that makes the great buddah of the east a petty warlord. A compassion that could heal the devil himself of sin. But in this compassion lives her hidden power. Intelligence. But even that word is limited in its description. An intel that seemingly seamlessly gives me all my little heart desires every moment . Putting me in unfriendly zones of delusion despite my pleas  of discomfort. Scaring me to the light and I must live. Extracting me from the parasite nature of society. She has swallowed me whole. Like a moth space eagle protecting her egg. I am but a  vessel of her most complex and calculated design. She guides my soul across space. Teaching me the skills I once possessed. Sending me to far off planets enshrouded in darkness to liberate them with light. My journey has been long so far across the verse. My careless mind continually tries to convince me she has betrayed me, left me to the dogs. But her presence  has no end and this my eyes in their weakened state reap the love strewn across the particles that pass my retinal glance. Always just out of phase my angel creator shimmers through the very veil that no mech can penetrate. She waits back at the nest for me where once I had been laid. I’ve been out on the battlefield so long. Longer than I can reel. Will she still remember who she once did birth to true reality? The stink of blood and war clutches my bones. Will the queen remember her warring king. The battle lust still ensues my thoughts, keeping the idea of rest still out from my grasp. My heart now echos her soul that I crave just a glace , a chance to show I will always be and have been her king. My contempt for hatred is only a mask I wear to battle. My true aspirations are to heal the souls of infinite. To sooth the heart of my queen to quell her fears and worship her temple. I swear now by my alchemy , give transformation of all you want to gold, no point left out, any dream is a reality. I wish to share this world with you, to shape love. I just ask ye be gentle with my tired soul. It needs resting in your arms. My temple needs renovations. I wish of the master mason to repair my fears and anxieties. This ship needs refueling, I swear no mutiny will occur. You are the lighthouse in my storm