Schaft

Can't breathe without music. I need to bleed, need to free this pent up agony that haunts my bones. It seems the world is descending into apery again, we follow the cycles of years, the sad tear horizon of withered dreams, trees full of yearnings, the cries of the unborn and the dead seem to form a tidal wave against us, boiling waves are to come. Ahead I see violence, who will cause it? Invasion, that which we held to be unbreakable will be broken. The stage is being set for the lawless. I muse in my own head about the winds of time, they blow smoke toward us, the smell of it is beautiful, creative destruction reigns. Screams and groans of hindu monks. Can you feel the earth shaking? The Mayan prophecy was maybe. There are so many other records pointing to the fact that NOW is the turn of an age. Search and find it in any higher esotericism. Look at the stars. Ophiuchus is the chained serpent of revelation, being released here soon. We will be bent and ruined, and from that will spring an enormity, from the chaos flies a false Phoenix, ushering all peoples under its fire. Find shelter, any false shelter is a slaveholder. Like mafia rackets, the enemy creates problems in order to force you to turn to them in order to be saved from them, and you are enslaved to the people you turn to for help. There is only one freedom.