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Wandisa Zwane Oct 2015
Written by

Wandisa Zwane  


April 16, 2015



INT.  APT 3101 - THE BEDROOM  

It's 02:31 am and I find myself laying silently on my bed scrolling through Instagram...Twitter...Tumblr....and Snapchat. I find myself struggling to go to sleep.  I wasn't even able to sleep for an hour or two. It's not normal as its way past my curfew. I receive a text message. I'm confused because it's
still too early for anyone to be texting me, and I know everyone nearby is fast asleep because we have school. So who could be texting me?

CUT TO: PHONE SCREEN

HER ( via text )

I'm struggling with the math homework, help ? Are you up ?

ME ( via text )

I am actually. FaceTime, call or text?

20 minutes later my phone starts ringing. She was FaceTiming me. I stare at her name for about 5 seconds trying to put myself together.

ME

Hello, Ellie

I wasn't focused on the math. I was hoping that we could forget about the math and just talk about us and the futility of life. For some stupid reason I really thought you were gonna say something cheesy like I can't get you out of my head but can we just talk until we fall in love? But no it never happened as we had an hour long conversation about math.

CUE " MATH CONVERSATION"

The futility in that conversation was cosmic to the point where I began questioning existence. But when the call finally ended I was disappointed.

CUT TO: VARSITY

It's 8am and I'm at sitting in English tired and drained. Still contemplating about the futility of life.

HER

Hey, Tyler thanks for helping me with the math homework.

ME

Uhm Ellie do you want to come over too my apartment over the weekend and chill ?

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101

It's 12am and the apartment is really untidy. I jump out of bed and clean the entire apartment in a record time of 12 minutes and 44 seconds. I'm going crazy over here as I'm trying to remember if I gave her the correct directions. Thank god I gave her the correct directions as I see the uber pulling up in front of the apartment complex. I start sweating and shaking and I'm fearful that I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. I start cringing.
I open the door the door and it's her standing directly in front of me. I can't breathe. I'm overwhelmed by an awe of emotions. Literally - she's beautiful

ME

I mumbled - Hey Ellie it's so good to see you ( the hug was very awkward because I was nervous - it was one of those hugs where both people don't know how to hug each which makes things really awkward)

HER

Hi


ME

So glad you could make it. How was the drive ( note to self: I should stop making things awkward ) I'm so irritated at myself.

CUT TO:  APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

She's sitting on the couch. And I'm sitting right next to her. Okay let's just say there was a 30cm gap between the both of us. I was really nervous. I found myself drinking gallons of water. I forgot to offer her anything. I was nervous to the point where I couldn't even make eye contact. I just stared at her forehead and her lips.

ME

Aren't you exhausted I mean that drive was really long ( she lived like 3 blocks away from me )

HER

Not really , I'm just really stressed about varsity and stuff I guess.

We actually start conversing with one another for 5 hours straight.We smoke about 3 cigarettes and have the most fruitful conversation ever about female energy and the power of the the heart. She's really enlightened - I thought she was really basic. We both can't go to sleep because we're actually  enjoying the presence of one another. It was cathartic and refreshing actually.

ME

Want go up to the roof and look at the universe?

HER

I'd love too.

CUT TO : COMPLEX ROOF

I brought a blanket up to the roof cause I thought it was cold. It wasn't but we just layed down underneath the open night sky and gazed into the stars. We connected with the universe/ourselves/each other. It was bliss. We ended up falling asleep on top of the roof. To my amazement we were silently wrapped around each other.

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - THE KITCHEN

HER

( chuckling )
How'd you sleep

ME

( Smiling )
I slept pretty well.

ME

Do you have any plans for today?

HER

YES actually...

SEVERAL HOURS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN/BEDROOM AND LIVING ROOM

The sun is setting and she still hasn't packed her bags.

ME

When are you leaving?

She said she was leaving on Sunday

HER

In 30.

ME

(I tried to not crack in front of her)
Cool.


APARTMENT 3101

About 2 weeks later she surprisingly pitches at my door with her luggage.

HER
I'm moving in with you!

I was excited at the fact that she was moving in with me but I obviously tried acting cool and composed.

CUT TO: WOLVES CAFE

As they're sitting there talking to each other about their families, Osho and meditation over a cup of tea.

ME

I was adopted.

HER

WOW - That's a huge plot twist.

She sat there speechless for about 2 minutes trying to fathom the knowledge I just presented to her.

HER

So do you ever think about your real parents?

ME

All the time - they both died in a car accident when I was 3.

HER

I'm so sorry.

ME

It's okay - I mean I know they're somewhere out there in the universe checking up on me. I speak to them when I feel lonely.

Enough about my tragic past..How are your parents?

I've never told any other soul about my parents before. She was the first person I ever told .

HER

I never knew my dad but my mom has been living with a brain tumour for like 2 years now.

ME

Wow. That's must've been so tough for you when you found out about it.

HER

It was. I went through the most vicious cycle of depression for an entire year. But I'm trying to make most of the time I have left with her.

ME

How much time do you have left to see her her and stuff ?

HER

(She starts tearing up)
3 months

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

I'm still fascinated by the fact that she's into Osho, existentialism, metaphysics and epistemology. But I also felt like our relationship had escalated so quickly. We're we rushing things? The relationship felt like it was moving at the speed of light.

ME

Do you feel like we're moving too fast ?

HER

There's no such thing, if it's meant to be it will be, whether fast or slow as long as it's true, it will last as long as you want it to.

I was momentarily tongue-tied as I was trying to digest the words she just said.

ME

......

(Still voiceless)

She still had a lot more to say after that

CUES : "rants"

But in that entire rant she said something that echoed within me.

HER

YOU KNOW I MAKE YOU HAPPY

After she said this I felt like fainting. So not only did she make me voiceless I was overwhelmed by an ocean of indescribable emotions- wow

DAYS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN

I'd finally recovered from those powerful words she preached to me. So I found myself sitting in the kitchen trying to write a letter to her about how I really felt. I wasn't the best at expressing my emotions through writing but I gave it a shot.

ME

Love is the unforetold explanation for creation. Love is life. It's the merger of minds. The marriage of minds. It transcends through time, it's timeless. It takes you into a dimension filled with possibilities and opportunities. It helps you understand you are that you are not worthless. Every time I am with you I understand we are here for a reason. And every time I stare into your eyes. I realise that you are mine.  

I sealed it an envelope and put it on the kitchen counter.

LATER ON THAT DAY:

She opens the letter and starts crying.

CUT TO: THE TREEHOUSE

I introduce her to some of the guys in the treehouse. They welcomed her to the treehouse with open arms.

HER

So what do you guys do in the treehouse?

PAUL : (one of the guys part of the treehouse)

Well in the treehouse we just try to expand. We write, make music, poetry, nothing much really.

MCDONALDS DRIVE- THRU

She was to lazy to go home and cook supper she was s bit hypocritical cause she said we should stop buying junk food. So we decided to go to McDonald's. We were down to our last packet of 2 minute noodles anyway.


CUT TO: HOSPITAL

We went to visit her mother. She introduced me but there was no warmth in the hug we shared. I could feel her shrill body disintegrating. She was really cold. You could see she was dying.

HER

How've you been mom ?

MOM

She couldn't even speak properly. It was sad but when she eventually managed to responded to Ellie's question.

MOM

I'm still fighting but I don't know if I can do this for much longer.

HER

No mum you can't leave me.

MOM

I don't want to make you empty promises my child.

Who's this handsome young man Ellie?

HER

(Smiling heavily)
It's Tyler, my boyfriend

She just called me her boyfriend in front of her mom. She just put a label on our relationship. I thought it was completely platonic.

ME

Afternoon Mam. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

I knew her name ( Stacy )  but in that moment I felt like a child in primary school - so I decided to be respectful and call her mam. I wasn't sure whether or not I should call her "Ellie's mom" or Stacy. It was just a tricky situation. So I opted for mam.

MOM

( smiling )
The pleasure is all mine Tyler.

She told me to come closer to her cause she wanted to whisper something into my ear.

MOM

Tyler I'm clearly dying as you can see. So I'm leaving with you an important task of ensuring that's my daughter remains happy at all times.Take care of her for me - please

ME

I'll take care of her - she's in safe hands.

MOM

That's the spirit Tyler. Can you give us a moment please Tyler.

HER

Just go down to the kiosk and get me a bottle of distilled water. Please.

(Tyler leaves the room)

MOM

I remember the first time you wrapped your tiny hand around my index finger , you had my soul laying on 3 cms of palm.

( Ellie interrupts )

HER

Mom don't do this , prolonging life is pure idiocy.

(she smiles as a tear rolls down her cheek )

Die so your soul can have its summer ,don't worry about my pain cause I'm really happy for you, your soul can finally taste true liberation, see my tears as autumn leaves falling from trees , I'm naked and all I can show you is the truest forms of love.

MOM

You're so beautiful because you're so true. Our connection has no equation my daughter, as I leave my body just know that my time with you transcends forever.

HER

Mother it's time for you to leave. Take a piece of my happiness, it's futile anyway and I have it in abundance but I shall be lost without you in body, I shall be found when I'm with you in soul.

MOM

Clarity comes with the last breath, as hatred and love become nothing, you are nothing and everything all at once, I'm happy for you have given it to me, tomorrow and yesterday no longer matter

(her heart stops beating and her souls goes home - heart rate monitor indicates her mom has just flat lined)

Ellie starts screaming. The nurses and doctors come sprinting in.


DOCTOR

NUURSE HAND ME THE DEFIBRILLATOR !!

HER

(in agonising pain and disbelief that her mother is dead she starts screaming)

SAVE MY MUM, PLEASE SHE CANT LEAVE ME !! YOU CANT LET HER DIE.

DOCTOR

Nurse get her out of here.

She's kicking and shoving the other nurses as she is being escorted out the room.

NURSE

Don't worry the doctors are doing all they can to save her.

Tyler comes back from the kiosk with the distilled water to find Ellie on the floor crying.

ME

What's wrong?

HER

( Her face goes pale )
She's gone ....

2 DAYS LATER: BACK AT 3101

Ellie has locked herself in my/our room. We haven't spoken to each other for like 2 weeks.

She finally decides to come out of the room.

HER

(Breaks down, again  )
It's her birthday today.

I've never seen her so broken and disfigured before. She's in pieces - distorted.

NARRATOR

Death is the door between two lives; one is left behind, one is waiting ahead. Death is the ultimate experience of this life - Osho

“Birth leads to death, death precedes birth. So if you want to see life as it really is, it is rounded on both the sides by death. Death is the beginning and death is again the end, and life is just the illusion in between. You feel alive between two deaths; the passage joining one death to another you call life. Buddha says this is not life. This life is dukkha – misery. This life is death"

HER

I WONT CRUMBLE - IM A BIG GIRL NOW. MOMMA RAISED ME TO BE A STRONG WOMAN SO IM GONNA DO THAT.

She put up this facade as if nothing ever happened. She didn't allow herself to mourn the death of her mother. She was apathetic for the next 2 weeks.

This  was a tricky phase because she either woke up angry or sad. She just rampaged through the house, didn't attend lectures - she just left a trail of destruction wherever she went. I even have the scars to prove it.

A FEW WEEKS LATER: THE DEATH ORDEAL IS FINALLY OVER

She gained about 5 kilograms in that entire period. She just kept on stuffing her face with ice cream and chocolates

HER

Tyler thanks for being there in my moment of absolute depression.

ME

I thought you were never going to be able to get yourself out of that dark abyss you were trapped in.

AT THE BEACH

The sun is setting and the couple is walking along the sand enjoying each other's company.

ME

I've got something for you Ellie

( I hope she likes it )

HER

Yes?

ME

Close your eyes

(Takes out a heart shaped pediment from back pocket  and places it around her neck )

You can open your eyes now.

HER

(Smiling)
It's lovely, thank you

ME

(Smiling back)
I'm giving you my heart but not my soul.

HER

(Blushes)

ME

(In my head)
I'm giving her my heart she better not break it.

Have you ever had that feeling before in a relationship where you think you love the other person more than they love you. To the point where you'd even get their names tattooed onto your chest. Cause that's how I feel right now.

IN THE CAR:


I'm driving Ellie to the airport. OR Tambo in fact. I'm playing some Jamie ** but I quickly change it and play my favourite song Female Energy.

CUE "FEMALE ENERGY"

ME

You excited?

HER

Yes I'm really really excited for this.

ME

I'm really gonna miss you

HER

Me too.

Ellie was completing her mothers bucket list - so she had had to travel all the way to Tibet and learn Buddhism. Nothing much really she was leaving  for 2 months.


But little did Tyler know that this was going to be the last time he sees Ellie because her plane never landed in Tibet - the plane crashed and it sunk with no no one  surviving.

STILL IN THE CAR:

Ellie hands Tyler a letter

HER

Tyler please don't open this until you get home.

ME

(Smiling)
I'll try my best.


Car parks at drop and go zone at the airport. Tyler takes out Ellie's bag from the boot.

They hug and kiss

Ellie cries.

CUT TO : "APT 3101 - LIVING ROOM "

Tyler opens the letter.

CUE "ELLIES VOICE AND ON OUR SWEATERS "


It's funny how for someone who has been so used to being lonely, the second I grip onto something that seems real, my biggest fear is losing that grip - even though for the longest time ever I've become immune to the feeling of loneliness. The same way people become dependent on other beings, people can become dependent on loneliness too - you become immune to self reassurance, your insecurities, your vulnerability and after a while it seems ideal and okay, but only because it's all you've got. You allow yourself to be consumed by this self indulgent energy making you think you don't need anybody because how else do you get by when you know that you have nobody. So when someone comes creeping in through the front door, with nothing but good intentions - you shut them out because you've lost sight of the difference in the realness of someone coming through the front door and the fakeness of someone coming through the backdoor. I struggle to fathom your presence because I didn't see you coming, through any door, you were just always there in plain sight. I don't know how to describe what I feel when I'm around you because I have never felt anything like it. All I know is that it leaves me in a place
An incomplete screenplay.
Ete Dec 2011
We are consciousness, and only consciousness.

The consciousness that is somehow bound to the body, is conscious of everything.

Thoughts are like people moving around in the market place. Thoughts are everywhere and when we give our attention to thoughts, when our consciousness looks at thoughts, which are everywhere to be seen, which are all around us, we experience thinking.

It is very important that we understand that we are consciousness and only consiousness.

This way we can free ourselves from the prison that we are in but yet don't know we are in. Humanity is enslaved thanks to the mind. Not just because the mind exists, but because of the believes that we carry in the mind, which are believes that keep us limited. We believe things that are not truly true, and this keeps us in a kind of prison.

When we are born in a body, we are free and we are just consciousness, purely conscious.

As we grow, all the information that is already here in the world is ingested into our mind. As we continue to grow, and as all this information continues to grow in our mind, we start to forget that we are just pure consciousness. By the time we are teenagers, and by the time we start to become adults, we have totally forgotten that we are just consciousness and we live our lives in a little box because we limit ourselves with the believes that are inevitably conditioned upon us. We believe that we are this body and we are not this body. When i say we, i am talking about the consciousness, the pure consciousness.

And the problem is not only that we believe we are this body, but we grow the habit to think compulsively.

Anything in this world can become a habit, and for the mayority of humanity , thinking has become a habit.

So what happens?
The pure consciousness that you are is never pure, is never silent, is never fully conscious because first of all, we are taught to believe that we are the body-mind, and second of all, we grow the habit to always think by always having to judge ourselves to see if what  we are doing is right or wrong, to see if we are to be punished or if we are to be rewarded. And this supports and strengthens the believe that we are the thinker, that we are the body.

When we don't allow spaces of no-thought, of no-thinking, we forget that we are an empty sky.  

My effort on leaving behind all these words is to wake up as many people as possible.

People are missing a great opportunity.

People stay living in a little room when they can be living in a huge palace.

All that has to do be done is to find a little distance between thoughts, between feelings, between everything and always remain a watching presence. Now, we are always this watching presence, we are always consciousness even if we are unconscious about it. Even if we are unconscious about the fact that we are consciousness , we remain consciousness. For example, all animals are consciousness, they are awareness, but they are unaware of this. Their body limits them because it lacks intelligence. They are not fully and totally free and they can not be either. But at the same time they don't have to be. By nature they  don't have to be intelligent, they are fine just how they are and they are in the process of one day becoming conscious like we are, like the humans are. Still, there are many humans who remain unconscious of the fact that they are consciousness and only consciousness. Without shape, without form. Just consciousness, awareness, everywhere. This whole universe is consciousness and when this consciousness is merged to a body, the body is simply a contact point of the consciousness.

At some point, when the body of a baby is being developed in the mothers womb, a little spec of consciousness enters and binds to the body of the baby and this happens because through the human body, through a human experience, the consciousness is capable of becoming aware of itself and this realization is possible in any one life time, in any one human experience. But, it has not been so. It has taken many many life-times and many many people have not yet realized this. People can't even believe that they had a life before this life and that they can have a life after this life as well. People can't even conceive this. But it is true. People have been going life after life, obviously and naturally not remembering the past life, but going life after life not going beyond life. Not going beyond the human or atleast not even understanding, discovering, learning , what life is, what the human is. People remain ignorant and afraid because of the conditioning that they receive.

All conditions prevent the being from trascending their lives and consciousness because in our true nature we are totally unconditioned- free-beings. Any condition that is imposed on us goes against our very nature and anything that goes against nature is bound to have problems.  

And so my reason for saying these things that i have discovered to be true in me, is to help people remember or to atleast give people a new idea that there is the possibility of something more, of something greater than life, something with no limitations, something with no death, something that can not get sick, that can not feel pain, something of pure joy and peace , of pure love.

Every single human being is searching for this something, every single human being is searching for themselves. And they are searching because they remember. They have been themselves before. They are themselves right now. They are consciousness right now, but there are so many things in the mind that they forgot and they dont know. And when they hear something that is true, when something is said that points to that consciousness, automatically something is felt inside, something is triggered.

This whole search for truth or for enlightenment is a search for our own selfs.

It is a remembering process that happens.

Go into this search as empty as possible.

The less conditions you carry , the less knowledge you carry, the more simple and humble you are, the easier it is to remember who you are, because it does not take knowledge to know that you are consciousness, that you are awareness, it simply takes consciousness and awareness.

So it is important to be aware of everything, of every single thought that comes in and out. Be aware of the believes that you believe and the believes that you don't believe.

I don't know if there are people who for some reason are not ready to awaken, even though they can, even though every single human being can awaken, but,  there are people who have put too much into their believes, too much faith, and who can not even concieve the idea of dropping these believes, these investments. Now, the funny thing is, that even all these people who are unaware, are consciousness themselves. And it makes sense that these people who are unconscious , are here in the world so that other people can wake up, so that other people can learn from them, so that other people can see their unconsciousness, can see their behaviors, and use them towards their journey, towards their enlightenment, towards their shift of consciousness.  

"We are itself the consciousness presenting itself as human nature" - Mooji.

We , the consciousness, invisible consciousness that can not be seen nor touched, which one day was before Earth was created, that consciousness that is everywhere like space, over time has manifested itself in the world of form, in the world of matter and eventually through the movement of what appears to be time, manifested itself as a human being.

It is an invisible yet conscious phenomena that has managed to make a form out of atoms and elements, managed to make a form out of itself, out of elements of itself, and managed to create the world that we can see today. And seeing the vastness of the universe, we can see the many possibilities that exist, the many possibilities of consciousness to keep growing, to keep creating, to keep expanding, to keep evolving.  

One day i am not going to be able to express myself through Esteban, yet i will be expressing myself through other bodies, with other names. And i have been expressing myself through other bodies also, like for example one of my favorite man, Osho, Bhagwan. Osho is I. Osho is the same consciousness that is in Esteban, expressing. Now, we look different in the outside, our voices are different, our accents are different, but it is the same consciousness trying to express the same thing. Once we know that we are this limitless consciousness, we can start focusing on creating things. But right now what is important is that everybody realizes that we are this consciousness, because if not everybody knows this, then we can not create, we can not work to our full potential. Once we know who we are, once we know WHAT we are, we will know exactly what we have to do, what we can do, and we would do it with a quality that has not existed before. A quality of super consciousness, a godly quality. So before we focus on the outside world we have to focus on the inside world first. Before we can create beauty outside we have to create beauty inside, because the outside world is a reflection of the inside world.

If the inside world is not pure, is not balanced, then the outside world will not be pure, will not be balanced.

If inside of us there is tension, anxiety, fear, hate, anger, violence; this is what will be expressed outside of us. If inside of us there is love, wisdom, peace, joy, beauty; then outside of us there will be all of this as-well.

The problem is not whether we are thinking negatively or positively, the problem is that we are thinking unconsciously.

That we think negative or positive thoughts does not matter as long as we know that we are thinking. And not because we are the thinker but because thoughts are passing through the mind and here the consciousness that we are , "thinks". But it does not think as in it is doing something, it simply sees the thoughts. The consciousness does not even move, does not even blink, does not have eyes like these eyes. The consciousness just is, and the consciousness sees thoughts moving, occuring.

The problem is not that the consciousness is seeing negative thoughts, the problem is that if the consciousness is seeing negative thoughts, it believes the negative thoughts.

You forget that you are the awareness that watches thoughts, totally separate from the thoughts.

You are simply giving attention to the thoughts.

Like i said before, thoughts are moving all around you. You can not see or grab them because they are so subtle in their manifestation, yet they ARE energy in movement, they exist but in different frequencies of existence. And they are everywhere.

When we experience thoughts, what ever category of thoughts, it is because we are giving our attention to those thoughts. Every single thought is available to us. The mind is not just your mind, my mind; The mind is one universal facility, available to all.

And so, the problem is not that you are thinking negativily.

The problem is that you are thinking unconsciously.

Become more conscious of your thinking. Become conscious of thoughts. If the thoughts are negative, watch them. If the thoughts are positive, watch them. But don't judge them as negative or positive, dont judge the thinking. If negative thoughts are percieved, don't start saying to yourself  "oh why am im always thinking negatively? ;( " because this IS another thought and you are not watching it. Usually THIS is the thought that is not watched.

You watch a thought, for example, you watch a negative thought. This negative thought brings out negative emotions because thoughts are the cause of emotions. Emotions are energies-in-motion. You watch your thinking, you watch the negative thought and then you say, "oh this thought is bad, why am i thinking these thoughts? I should not be thinking this way, what is wrong with me?" that right there is a thought also and you are thinking, believing, that it is you!

Any judgement is a form of thought.

Anything that consists of words or symbols and even images are thoughts. It is all mind and the problem is that there are thoughts that are not being watched, observed, and this is keeping you unconscious and troubled.

There are many thoughts that we are not aware of.

For example, we watch a negative thought , we percieve a negative thought, but then the next thought that talks about that negative thought, we don't see because we think, believe, that we are the one who talks instead of remaining the watching consciousness that we are.

We are not the one who talks because we don't even have a mouth to talk through. We are simply and only consciousness. We use the human body as an instrument to talk and express ourselves but we remain the conscious awareness.

Those thoughts that are not being watched are keeping us from going deeper into life.

These unobserved thoughts are keeping us traped in the mind.

So if you ever ask yourself the question, what is life?
What is my purpose in life?
What should i do?
What should i not do?
If you are not out of the mind, you will not get the true answer because the mind is limited to these questions.

The mind will only give you that which has already been given. It will not give you originality.

Simply try this out:

When ever you are experiencing thinking, let the thoughts be, don't judge them as negative or positive thoughts, as good or bad thoughts, just watch them. If you do judge them and you say "*** why am i thinking that?! " watch that, watch that judgement. Keep watching, just simply watching, purely aware of every single thought, keep watching and you will start to feel a distance, a silence, a space.

See how long you can go from thought to no-thought to thought.
See how long you can remain in a silent gap between thoughts.
Watch your thoughts, watch your thinking and see how the watchingness slowly expands.
See how the silent gaps become longer.
And see the peace that these silent gaps bring.
Babu kandula Aug 2014
Be the tree
Which grows up
And down
Like branches-
Responsible for height
And
Roots-
Responsible for depth
Life has both
Ups and downs
The more you
Experience
The more you become
Mature
Inspired from Osho quotes
samasati Oct 2013
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful *******, backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, *******, iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer *****, good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
I wrote this with my momma one fine morning!
there is always so much more to add.
Babu kandula Aug 2014
Be the witness
But not the identity

Mind is a box
Filled with confusion

Heart is the thing
That drives us

Thoughts try to take
Control over it

But body as a vehicle
Must be under the
Control of heart

Witness the truth
Inspired from the
Preaches of Osho
Babu kandula Aug 2014
If you love a flower
Love it
But, careful
Never pluck it
If you pluck
It surely dies
Let it be
Love is not about possession
Love is about appreciation
One more Quote from Osho
Maya Grela Jul 2015
It will be different with different people and it will be different at different times. If love really grows, this is the way: first you fall in love with the woman because her body is beautiful. That is the first available beauty - her face, her eyes, her proportion, her elegance, her dancing, pulsating energy. Her body is beautiful. That is the first approach. You fall in love.

Then after a few days you start going deeper into the woman. You start loving her heart. Now a far more beautiful revelation is coming to you. The body becomes secondary; the heart becomes primary. A new vision has arisen, a new peak. If you go on loving the woman, sooner or later you will find there are peaks beyond peaks, depths beyond depths. Then you start loving the soul of the woman. Then it is not only her heart - now that has become secondary. Now it is the very person, the very presence, the very radiance, the aliveness, that unknown phenomenon of her being - that she is. The body is very far away, the heart has also gone away - now the being is.

And then one day this particular woman's being becomes far away. Now you start loving womanhood in her, the femininity, the feminineness, that receptivity. Now she is not a particular woman at all, she simply reflects womanhood, a particular form of womanhood. Now it is no longer individual, it is becoming more and more universal. And one day that womanhood has also disappeared - you love the humanity in her. Now she is not just a representative of woman, she is also a representative of man as much. The sky is becoming bigger and bigger. Then one day it is not humanity, but existence. That she exists, that's all that you want - that she exists. You are coming very close to God.

Then the last point comes - all formulations and all forms disappear and there is God. You have found God through your woman, through your man. Each love is an echo of God's love.

Osho
BB Tyler Jan 2014
Entropy is Ecstasy
a state of selflessness
in which
homogeneity is once more realized.

Osho said, "When the shoe fits, the foot is forgotten"
It is a general saying that What You Seek is Seeking You. If it is so , then why the sought for (i.e. God ) is not meeting the seeker or seeker is discovering the sought for (i.e. God). It is very easy to say that God is looking and searching for us. If it is so, then why we deviate from our path. Why we are attracted to the lust, money or other worldly material. If God is searching us, then certainly he has to guide us in tracing him. But the reality is just opposite. If tread the path of God, people will laugh at you. If you are working in any office, it is very easy to talk about politics, movies, girls, foods, clothes etc. It is very difficult to find a companion with whom you can speak about God. It looks as if God has created all these hindrances so that it is not convenient to seek him.

       You seek about movie and you find movie theater. You look for clothes, you find the multiples mall easily. But what about God. Go and ask questions to so called Spiritual Leaders, Spiritual Guru and ask for their experience regarding proof of god, and you do not find definite answered.

       I have met various so called spiritual leaders, spiritual Gurus and asked about their spiritual experience about the God. But I receive only hesitating answer, that too also in Negative. I do not want to name such leaders.

        I have also read many books like GOD SPEAKS by MEHER BABA, LAW OF SPIRIT WORLD by KHORSHID BHAWNAGRI, AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF YOGI by Yogananda Paramhansa, Gospel of Shri Ramakrishna. But the end result is confusion. Each book gives different account of God. If God is seeking us then why the same is confusing us by providing so diverse ways of following him. Ramakrishna says money and women has to be avoided on the path of God. While Osho and Modern Gurus says just contrary. In fact in word of Osho, without treading the path of *** , it is difficult to follow the path of God for modern man.

          For Vedanta, the seeking has to follow the ascetic path. The path the self restraint. While the path of tantra (the Left Marg) to utilize women and wine for attaining the Samadhi. It is Just incomprehensible to believe that just two contradictory path lead to realization of same God.

          When you look to go nearer to a particular cities or places , then on the way you start meeting land marks, evidencing that the path, you are following , is going to lead you to your destination. In fact on the ways, you find many stones, indicating the distance which is yet to be covered in reaching the destination. But in case of God, things are just contradictory. The more people you approaches to seek advise regarding the God, the more disappointment comes to you. The more book you read to tread the path of God, the more confusion you creates for yourself. The more you discuss the topic of people around, the more alone you become. The more you tread the path of truth, the difficult your life become.

            Then how it can be said that WHAT YOU SEEK, IS SEEKING YOU?????

           In   fact , truth is that What we seek, creates hindrance in being sought for.
AJAY AMITABH SUMAN
Hiro was such a clever guy.
he always said the funniest little jokes, even when he was Hiro-chan, to me.
he used to act like a cat when he was frustrated and, and-
remember what he said to the mailman that day, in like june?
about how he looked like an angry Hotei-osho?
we all laughed and that mailman, that man’s face went radish red.

he was such a good lawyer, Hiro.
i mean, he wasn’t rich and powerful, no
but he did good things, though.
like Sayotoma’s lease –
without Hiro, he would’ve lost the store!
and then where would we get our tempura? huh?


oh, Hiro, you are so much fun to talk about.
and i hate that all i have of you now is smoldering incense and an expired passport.
i poured a cup of water on your grave today, you know.
it was a hurting kind of hot under summer’s sun – it’s august, after all.
some steam came off, and it sounded like you sighing
and i said more loudly than i cared no problem, Hiro
and my wife looked at me, with a misting eye,
while my son kept flicking matches
from that cheap matchbook we got at Sayotama’s place.

all the failed matches collected between his sneakers
and i thought that i wish Sayotama didn’t make all his matches
so **** fragile.
they burst and blacken in a second,
and you don’t have the chance to really light something,
and they just end up falling between the sneakers
of some kid who can’t even remember you,
Hiro.
© David Clifford Turner, 2010

For more scrawls, head to: www.ramblingbastard.blogspot.com
"Love is the only poetry there is. All other poetry is just a reflection of it. The poetry may be in sound, the poetry may be in stone, the poetry may be in the architecture, but basically these are all reflections of love caught in different mediums. But the soul of poetry is love, and those who live love are the real poets. They may never write poems, they may never compose any music - they may never do anything that people ordinarily think of as art - but those who live love, love utterly, totally, are the real poets. Religion is true if it creates the poet in you. If it kills the poet and creates the so-called saint, it is not religion. It is pathology, a kind of neurosis garbed in religious terms. Real religion always releases poetry in you, and love and art and creativity; it makes you more sensitive. You throb more, your heart has a new beat to it. Your life is no longer a boring, stale phenomenon. It is constantly a surprise, and each moment opens new mysteries. Life is an inexhaustible treasure, but only the heart of the poet can know it. I don't believe in philosophy, I don't believe in theology, but I believe in poetry."

— Osho, *Everyday Osho: 365 Daily Meditations for the Here and Now
Heavy Metal Poet Mar 2015
They. Whomever They are have a weapon aimed at the back of my neck, its warm, unsettling even. Reminds me of when I, along with many others, witnessed the ****** of Dean Warwick when he was giving a presentation at a conspiracy conference back in 2006 (link will be included at the End of this Chapter).

Yes. The Narrator is here dear reader, just for you. My mother isn't here though. Or maybe she is. Could be she is everywhere and nowhere. Are we even here ? We believe we are here - but in the middle of belief is a LIE (a John Trudell observation). This. THIS. May be a ******* dream, OR should that read NIGHTMARE.

I spoke about my mother in the introduction. I still have issues. Guess you can tell huh !

I Am the Narrator. I narrate. NARRATE. YOU read and make of these words what you will. But choose very carefully what drawer you place these words in.

I hear music. Can you hear it dear reader ? A fusion of  jazz and metal. Nice. What ! You can't ! Are you ******* deaf ? Have you not attuned into our comfy little twilight zone with fluffy pink sheep ? Can you not see the pervy creepy priest nailed to his crucifix made from shrapnel ? And no ! I am not Jesus ******* Christ. Their never was a Jesus ******* Christ. And the same goes for GOD ! Its a mind **** - religion. It is a toxic disease with a twist and a tease. Heaven and hell, trick or treat. NEAT.

I Am. CONSCIOUSNESS.
I AM.
Consciousness.
To deny that I AM CONSCIOUSNESS I have to be HERE. THERE. EVERYWHERE. NOWHERE.

What a rambling rumble of trash, I the Narrator spews forth; and yet, yes and YET - if you are OPEN to what is being written you will remain none the wiser. Maybe these written words should carry a public health warning.

I, the Narrator do not bind myself up in what is labeled POLITICAL CORRECTNESS. NO ! Why should I ? I am the Narrator, and you - YES YOU - are the reader, my reader. Until you bail out. Bankers always get BAILED out because we - WE are too ******* timid to say NO !

The suits
preen themselves
climaxing in front of mirrors
on a daily basis
the suits
falsely crown themselves
and think they are so ******* cute

BUT. We let them. The politicians. The bankers. The priests. The MAFIA of our SOULS(credit to Osho for that one).

And so. Its TIME. No it isn't. Its a ******* DREAM, but sadly more of a NIGHTMARE. But WE can CHANGE this. THIS. Yes we can. Don't believe we can - DO WE CAN. No more whining, unlike The Shining with here's Johnny.

Once upon a time
a circle gave birth
to a line
and we all
rubbed it out.

Well folks I, the Narrator has decided to bring an end. END. To CHAPTER 1.

Thank you most sincerely for reading these words. Many more will follow, and there will be casualties. However, as this is a DREAM *** NIGHTMARE, its all MAKE beLIEve. Who ******* cares ?

I, the Narrator, is smoking a **** good cigar. Until CHAPTER 2, do sleep well.


Lenny Gazbowski(c)2015
The Narrator returns with Chapter 1.
vea vents Feb 2016
I have often wondered why it is that I exist, why, even after prolonged pleas to **** me in my sleep – you allow me to wake to a barrage of thoughts.

I don’t really know my purpose for being here. Why all the pain exists. Why I was born to my parents, my own race. I do not know much. Sometimes I feel myself going mad from not knowing anything.

I guess I yearn to know so much because I fear this uncertainty, this lack of safety I’ve always seem to have felt in this world.

I wish I knew. I wish that you would talk to me sometimes. I guess what I wish for is some comfort – that somehow, there is a meaning to this madness, a meaning for my life, a purpose for existing.

I can’t seem to fool myself into believing anything transient for too long. When I cling onto something unreal, unstable – it gets taken away from me, and all I am left with is, nothing. Intense pain soon arises.

Sometimes you know I feel so depressed. So out of touch with you – as Osho would say.

My heart yearns so much to know itself; but it constantly breaks out of confusion and disconnection.
David Bojay Apr 2016
i guess whatever comes, i have to not only deal with
but accept, enjoy, and become conscious about
i don't need anybody
and the ones who say that are the ones who have people they need
even if they've read "freedom" by osho
i love this being named sabrina
i never asked for anything more than ****
but i got the heaven my mother speaks about after death
there's no heaven, but her existence sure is like no other
i don't mean to cause love
it just happens through our consciousness
and the way our minds work
they dont correlate, but just being makes it happen
and its lovely
more than lovely
more than red, cupid, and all that ****
no romantic love
it goes beyond that
Connor Jun 2017
I

top of the valley
))) showerhead & birdsong,
the womanlike apparition
of previous nights,
  confession buries its warmth within fervent tangerine sheets (where the day is hot and the future is formless)

I approach the dawn
in naked repose/horns repeating/soft a hares tail is
spotted with freckled water from Lands End,
youth & ideal kiss-image lost in bedsheets/
  eyes are painted with creekwater
  
to impermanence, guarding the stones we left there
  drying away/I miss you already
  
  (the island which reconciled my heart to that of a lambs infant noise)
  
  all worry and expenses vanished at the throw of an axe
  
     haze/fire/italian wine/the stirrings of March brought forth for inspection
     in the dim glow of our ashes/butterfly asleep/carved dragon
     draped with the fury in your kiss/

I stand naked before the valley, an initial warmth fills its features. A smile stems in the garden loosely protected by wire, I am temporarily innocent of day/
my restless behavior now soaked into a wooden platform

     Clothes placed on a nearby log, I now cloak an inevitability to my skin, one of a whisper, mute in the heart as yet,
     heavy (molten lead) to the rest of me

(questions starve in my mouth,
  for the sake of any dire simplicity/animal truth in tongue/awakened from its hibernation)
  I am gripping the mothmask
  helpless & drawn instinctually
  toward the fire which
  hurts me
(the witch unafraid of being burned)

  stumbling in black of later-spoken confusion/divided tones/two worshippers of the same trickster idol-

-only promising the subdued rising day,
where you monastically
prepare (with such grace) the next meal of bananas & hot tea, cupped with mint leaves, meanwhile,
Ethiopian rhythm fills the trees with a land who's taste they'll never know

      (& suddenly I am the forest)

II

(out of sight)

-hitchhiked home & let out here, a brown ivory-trimmed wood church hardly the size of a house a little ways down the road, myriad
insect conversation & the dry, eclipsing valley, carrying with me a simple liberation of spirit, one I can't let go of by necessity-

-my shoes are scuffed with loose dirt at the sole, I must pantomime the Sea, now more than ever

(without intervention)

-my clothes clean all things considered-

(darling time acts in accordance to nothing but its own divine & careless will)

-as if ingrained to me by the Summer heat, & the earned sweat on my back.

"Life needs to be lived, not to be solved" - Osho
Usque incorruptibiles aeternum vivet in aeternum
                                         (356-323 B.C.)

The Regressive Legend tells that this good piece of muscular meat and brain too, was born to write his entire story dying with the blood of Etruscan Steeds, each one had golden piercings on the internal hanging of their six paranasal sinuses, to seal life by this blood-tightness. Franciscan timeless swordsman, so that with his last four molars it would give way to amalgamated crystalline light and overflowing from the gums of the period that soaked blood in the equestrian fields. With which from the ventral turbinate he would be in the first row giving pendency to the Troops of the Great Darius, from where his Alikanto Horse, dressed in degrading dust, changed his Etruria marble saddles with his paranasal attributions, and his brain roots of the hypothalamus pillar who gave them super alchemical excitements and compulsions, super powerful attack to arrive at Tel Gomel 7 days before, supported by the elixir of the Fires of the reinforced steel legs of his Alikanto, with whose entity they came out in droves looking like when they ran at great speeds pretending to be more than a thousand equine Etruscans escaping from the Culture of the Vulture war in a rectilinear scourge of speed in an inordinate trajectory by the Gaugamela tapestries.

Vernath; in one of their lives he was aware of broker comments. Along the long avenues there were countless soldiers who had taken possession of their regression! Many spoke loudly through the pavilions of their stateless conscience. After putting their good feeling of great good sufficiency, they called to him to loud voice which with little will he could hear. Then he heard himself say saying ...; They talked about me? Sooner or later I will be with my therapist, she says that before going to her office she was already dictating to approach her great Christus Martial test in Gaugamela. From the six strings of his devotional he came, taken with both hands with great force, to bend from the eyelids of his intruding Sibyl, to travel through the minimum must of the Solstice to reach the point of apogee closest to his epic, which I rescued with Eternal Life an obese arm from wars won by the peaceful Death, in the Way of oblique perpetrated committed soldiers that from Mosul swept him swirling with high bravery mounted in his Alikanto, before arriving at the low meadow forest of the Lid.

If it was a boy ... it was a Man. If he was a Man ... he was an offender of the fortress. If he was leisurely unfolded he always carried his sword, he never left it. Even his reconciling dreamed would be damaged if he deported him from his daily Christian offices. Vernath, is a living survivor precedent to the resurrected Alexander the Great, after 323 BC .. But when they breathed the same glorious air, both looking at each other, brandished cutting the sharp rudeness that divided them with the 6 Golden swords, from 6 angles of strategic fords to die. several times to challenge the pain that surpasses all life the golden strings with blood "Hexachordia Caelestialis Mortuorum", From the musical scale of agony of the sheep plains that are prey to the melodies of the scythes strengthened by the fear of the trembling of the charismatic migrant .

Vernarth was raised as befits a Greek prince, with heroic tales from Joshua de Piedra's epic poetry. He was part of a culture that demanded that great men despise personal danger and take risks to gain experience. His genealogical ancestors came from Sudpichi, near the Talamitense / Chile reign.
He also received teachings from Kalavrita's Etrestles himself in philosophy and science (Kometerium Messolonghi / Editorial Palibrio - Bloomington USA). Since childhood he was a charming guest for the guests of the court. Etrestles was named their teacher, largely to control recklessness and aggressiveness by at least tempering them with more philosophical and civilized values, far from all insomniac excess.
In this he did not achieve complete success, because his obstinacy led him to run around the world barefoot and without clothes. Vernath, far from obeying his parents. He would go out at night and chase the Moon pregnant with pale Solar light on foot to attack it and tame its silver enclosure on its Etruscan steeds, exuding the naused locked in its loopholes.

He learned a great deal from his tutor and became a highly scholarly man watching for Messolonghi and a keeper of the confines of the Kalavrita macro heavens. But he remained essentially the brave boy who spat too blasphemous atomic alcohol on the Cyclops, who wanted to be Hercules surrounded by himself without parallel. Alexander's inspiration was Etrestles; Homer's accounts of his exploits inspired Vernath in his general attitude of putting his books beyond his memoirs and bibliographic insights.

It is likely that he was seen as a brand new version of the classic Greek heroes with divine blood in SudPichi ..., good piece of muscular meat and brain. To a large extent, this was true more than her own Sibyl lying in her lived regression in the decadent heights of Gaugamela's flushed proximity.

Vernath was an extremely aggressive commander who considered any type of defensive preparation as a sign of weakness, so he dared to speak out in opposition to Saint Augustine; The personality of Saint Augustine of Hippo was iron and it took very hard anvils to forge it, attributing to her apathy not to proceed with the courage of the great Maker, for her encyclopedic fervor and scientific rigor. Perhaps in cowardice, for not facing the mysteries of the word of the present Gods. He was therefore encouraged, rather than dismayed, when the Persian army rallied behind the Gránico river, forcing him to stun across it in front of his predicted opposition, like a sovereign crusader. It is the cross of the plain that in oblique route, can rescind the old word task of the ritual punishment of the sacrilegious Pharisee death that lacks.
Vernath with more than 180,000 faithful followers, declared that the ******* did not have confidence in the victory of the greatest affront, and they counted on the pronounced banks of the river to restrain the intensity of their attack enough so that the Persian cavalry defeated him by accumulating centimeters, to gain deadly meters. He launched his cavalry across the river at the point where the enemy seemed strongest brooding, degraded soldier, and after a fierce skirmish he succeeded in driving the Persian cavalry absent from twilight elixir value alongside the extermination of the voiceless I neither sing nor sing.
The second Persian line expired, the Greek mercenaries, held firm, but was slaughtered in less than five variations of the Sun as a declaring manifesto. Depleted of jubilant water resources, the Granicus established the moral dominance of Vernath's army over his enemies and forced Darius to adopt an even more attitude. Local populations Halicamaso, a nearby port moved their lines more than 5 kilometers in their retreat retreated, before the victorious siege since he was awarded by the natural immensities of the forests of Sudpichi, together with his beloved father Bernardolipo, after consonating suspicious corners from the Osho Tarot, when he drew his sword and upright lunge on the first card, on the instep of the undefeated and naive ignorant warrior, versed strenuous mercenary.
VERNARTH ETERNAL LIGHT
Babatunde Raimi Aug 2020
A Poem: "Amotekun Dee"

"Kere oh, Omode gbo. T'agba gbo"
"Oba ni kin wi fun yin oh!"
"Amotekun deeeeeeeee"
"Eyin omo Odua, ee gbo mi bi?"
"Irorun de, omi tun tun wo lu"
"Eyin temi aji lala osho. Eyin Omo okun Esin"
"Won ma sare kabakaba"
"Mo wi re, tabitha mi o wi re?"
"Amotekun deeeeeee"

We will block the gap and protect all and sundry
We'll patrol with Eagle eyes
It shall be "No nonsense here" in our region
With robust intelligence gathering and network
And we will proceed with extreme caution
Within the ambits of the law shall we operate
There shall be no sleep for the wicked

Peace, it has long eluded our lands
We have been invaded by uncircumcised Philistines
But not anymore, "O to geeee"
Who else knows our terrain better than our locals
You got a pass mark my Governors
And I am proud to be "Ofe mmanu""
"Ejo, ema je wo ni owo osu oh!"
Lest they begin to see friends as foes

"Amotekun de...Oju eje...."
"Iyalaya gbogbo won"
"Koni kaluku di omo Iya re mu.."
"A ko fosi rara nile Odua"
"Awi fun won ti ti, won jo gbo"
Odua a gbewa ooo.
"Oya, awon daaa? Gbefunwon kososhi"
Why carry guns when we can enchant them?
We have been pushed to the wall
Our hands on the plough, no going back

"This one no be se re se re"
"Omoluabi is a talk and do"
We stoop and let them trample on us"
Little do they know we are fooling the fools
Those who thinks they are fooling us
Watch it, we can be cunning and deceitful
But when it comes to our collective goal
The bond that binds us strong
And our walls, a mighty  fortress

In a nutshell, "Ki eku ile gbo o"
"Ko si so fun to ojo oh"
We are regional and not tribal
We will listen before we judge
We will treat all fairly as our ancestors did
We will not allow the "Cobra Effect" permeate Amotekun

This, we all know, is peace at last!
Passing Amotekun bill is a legislative masterstroke
For all who saw this to fruition
May "Eledumare" grant you all your "positive" heart desires
"Mo wi re, tabi mi o wi re bi"
Amotekun deeee"
stranger Nov 2021
I noticed
a girl with scissor earrings on the bus,
What an amusing tiny anecdote ha!
Two more in different intervals reading in their seats...
(lucky bastarrds who get to seat and to read in these hellish buses)
I digress, one was reading Osho and the other a book called "The relic".
I stare,
that's what I do.
Always.
Stare and laugh then wait for reactions.
Lately the amount of green eyes around me have made me unfaithful to the 2% promise.
Also every crystal blue has been painful.
-please don't watch me unless your gaze is lighter than mine-
There's delight to this dull compression.
We leave crying,
we come back jubilant in sorrow.
What generational wander!
I've been staring and deafening myself to the attentions of others,
Thinking every word addressed may as well be a deathwish.
Give up, you don't want to argue with me...at least not today.
I promised myself a 9 blossomed on my skin, as if mold has inherently carved itself into me.
I'm keeping myself awake for that promise now.
Once it's over I'll promise myself some other futile dream.
Life has been...tame.
ha it's funny maybe I am getting worse
Satsih Verma Jun 2020
I could not mediate.
God died in my home. Osho
was talking brazenly?

What you are, I
ask myself. The sleeping
moon knows my falls.

Who unmade the
beautiful dream of a
stricken angel's rise?
The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil and the Tree of Life

Dear friends, I write to you today with a clear intention to express aspects of my beliefs and how I apply them to life. I hope that as you read through this, you will see the time I took to gather my ideas and explain them as clearly as possible. I also hope you approach it with an open mind, taking time with the hope of spiritual and stoic gain. I write to you in trust of opinion and conversation. It is important to constantly and persistently seek wisdom, and it is imperative that the freedom we find be shared—because freedom is the gospel, the “good news.”

In this letter, I will discuss my views on the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, being present, faith, God within ourselves and everything around us, the kingdom of heaven, the tree of life, gratitude, and wisdom. I am not a writer or a teacher, so bear with me, as this is my first letter and I have never attempted something like this before.

Now, let’s begin.

“You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”
—Marcus Aurelius

Throughout my life, I have experienced the flux of having nothing and the ability to feel established with possessions. During times of having little to literally nothing (whether I was living off the land in Utah or locked up in Greensboro jail—and many other moments in time)—those were the times I felt closest to Truth.

Side note: In this letter, I will refer to “God” as “Truth,” since each one of us finds our own God as its truth.

It wasn’t merely the fact that I had nothing that made me feel this way, but rather it was after I allowed myself to be grateful for what I had and found true happiness in the small things throughout the day. These are two things that I believe are necessary for any “relationship” with Truth. I will break these two down as:                       1. Being present.              
2. True gratitude.

This is the foundation.

1. Being Present

Being present is crucial because, without presence, a divide and disconnect form between you and Truth. This practice is emphasized in nearly every ancient religion and is one of the main teachings I believe Jesus was trying to convey. Biblically, this concept traces back to Adam and Eve when they ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil—a topic I will explore further in this letter. There is power in being truly present, just as there is a divide when we disconnect.

When I consider what being truly present means to me, I find it to be a simple yet profound challenge. It is about giving my full attention to the present moment and finding joy in simply being. For example, if I am present while getting ready for work in the morning, I am not dwelling on yesterday or anticipating the day ahead. Instead, I find gratitude in the clean socks I put on, along with each article of clothing that follows. Any interruptions, I embrace. I stay attentive to my senses, aware that things like the weather, unexpected traffic, and other inconveniences are beyond my control—and thus, they hold no power over my mood. When I am truly present, I experience a steady sense of joy, a constant happiness. The longer I maintain this joy and focus on the moment, the easier it becomes to release the past and let go of worries about the future.

We are quick to be distracted, allowing our minds to wander to the past or race ahead to the future. We dwell on unfinished tasks, wondering whether time will slip away before we accomplish them. But this disconnection separates us from Truth, leaving us trapped in anxiety and depression—worried about the future and mourning what’s left behind. If that isn’t the purpose of life, why do we all fall into it? Let go of everything but the now, and begin by focusing on your breath. If you can feel the tingling in your toes, the texture of your shirt against your skin, or the sounds around you—these simple awareness exercises have helped me become more conscious, and I recommend them to anyone seeking presence.

In the Bible, Jesus speaks frequently about being present and how to achieve it. In Luke 17:20-21, it says:

“Being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, he answered them, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed, nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ For behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.’”

In Proverbs 22:4, it says:

“The reward for humility and fear of the Lord is riches, honor, and life.”

To me, throughout both the Old and New Testaments, the “fear of God” represents reverence. When we are truly present, we recognize that Truth exists within us and in all living things—it is the same energy. When we bask in the sheer wonder of this Truth—the force that spins the earth, forms honeycombs into hexagons, enables hummingbirds to fly, causes flowers to bloom in breathtaking colors, and moves the tides—we find ourselves in the kingdom of heaven in each moment. If we revere a higher Truth, we must also revere our own being as part of that Truth, made of the same divine energy.

This idea extends beyond Christianity. In Buddhism (Lankavatara Sutra 1:6), it is written:

“Look within, thou art the Buddha.”

In Hinduism, it is said:

“In the cave of the heart, that is where the divine dwells.”

In Islam (Qur’an 50:16), it states:

“God is closer to you than your jugular vein.”

Side note: I also believe there is a connection between Wisdom/Holy Spirit and our DNA. That may or may not be discussed later in this letter.

If the Truth within us is the same Truth that creates, then we must honor each moment, knowing it surrounds and fills us. We are made for more. We possess greater power than we are led to believe—the power to create. This is the power to shape our lives into the kingdom of heaven. Anything is possible when we recognize the Truth within us.

How incredible is it that the same energy that moves the universe also moves within us? Yet most people remain unaware of their true power. Be grateful for this gift, and be grateful that we share it with everything around us—because it is everything around us that shapes our kingdom of heaven.

Which leads me to my next point.

2. Gratitude
. I find that gratitude and being present often go hand in hand. I don’t think one can be truly present without gratitude, but one can be grateful without being present. The power of gratitude is one of the most profound experiences I continuously live in. As I mentioned earlier, I have found these truths most evident during my lowest moments—prevailing while living alone off the land in Utah and while being locked up in North Carolina without a release date in sight. I will share these two stories now.

UTAH

There was a time in my life when I found myself on a mountaintop in southern Utah, willingly living off the land with very few possessions. Living alone in the middle of the woods became more isolating and challenging than expected. During this time of discomfort, I had no choice but to stay present. Each day, I caught my own food, gathered firewood, and collected fresh drinking water—tasks that took far more time than one would think, especially while trapping and fishing. I had to remain fully aware and engaged with everything around me, staying present at all times.

When I first ran out of money and had to figure out ways to eat, I would walk around a large pond with a running stream, searching for old fishing wire and anything else useful for catching food. I strung together pieces of fishing wire and used rusty hooks and lures that had been snagged in trees and left behind. With this makeshift equipment, I cast out by hand—facing trial after trial, with more error than success. Attempting to catch food on an empty stomach for days was frustrating and exhausting, but I knew that crying about it wouldn’t help, and quitting wouldn’t feed me.

Then, one day, after countless failed attempts, I cast my line and actually caught a fish. The excitement and gratitude I felt were overwhelming—I was caught off guard by the sheer joy of it. You’ve never seen someone make a fire so fast. That fish, my efforts, and the moment itself filled me with an indescribable sense of gratitude. Later on, a man who often fly-fished near my camp noticed my struggle. I would ask him questions about trapping, fishing, and tanning. One day, he found and gave me a broken children’s fishing pole. I cried with gratitude. The more grateful I became for everything, the more I received.

NORTH CAROLINA

There was another time in my life when I found myself in a jail cell in Greensboro, NC, with no idea when I would be released. The first month was the hardest because I still held onto the hope of getting out quickly and being able to protect the life I had built. But there was no foreseeable release date. Each time my court date arrived, it was postponed for another month, leaving me in an agonizing state of uncertainty.

That first month, I lost my job, the house I was living in, my dog, my girlfriend, most of my possessions, my truck, and even my sentimental books and poetry I had written. It was excruciating to be locked up, powerless to control anything outside. One by one, I watched everything I had slip away.

Then, one day, after praying for help, I was granted peace and clarity. I saw my situation for what it was and found gratitude in things most people wouldn’t understand. Let me state this clearly: If you can be held against your will with no sight of freedom, stripped of your possessions and rights, and still find gratitude, then you can find gratitude anywhere.

Almost every day since then, as I step outside and take my first breath of fresh air in the morning, I am overwhelmingly grateful for the simple ability to breathe freely whenever I choose. We take so much for granted. Our car rides in traffic, our bills—things we often see as daily annoyances—all hold reasons to be grateful. It’s not hard to see if you look.

Once I gained clarity and gratitude, my entire experience changed. Even my daily demeanor became lighter and happier. When a person finds security in themselves without needing external possessions, they find true freedom. When they become grateful for life itself, they find true wealth.

These two stories may not seem significant. Maybe all you see is a broken fishing pole and smiles in jail. But it was more than that—it was what happened inside of me. It was the transformation that followed through the practice of gratitude. As you know, my life has been full of ups and downs—my lows being “really low” and my highs being merely “average” until recent years. My lowest moments took me to depths most people never reach, but my ability to rise again was solely due to my practice of gratitude.

The First Step Toward Truth: Gratitude

The first step toward true reverence for Truth—or what the Bible calls “the fear of God”—is gratitude. How could I claim to honor an omnipotent energy that flows through me and every living thing if I can’t even find joy and gratitude in what I already have? Even if all I had was the world itself—the sun, the weather, the plants and animals, the structures we’ve built, and the minds that created them—I would still have reason to be grateful.

Reverence, my friends. Being present, grateful, and in awe of the Truth around us elevates our energy and shifts our vibrations to higher levels. I cannot overstate the importance of genuine gratitude in all circumstances. In hard times, stay grateful and faithful. In good times, stay grateful and humble.

1 Thessalonians 5:18
“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

Gratitude is emphasized throughout the Bible and other ancient texts. Jesus gave thanks before every miracle—an example of how gratitude works. Gratitude and faith breathe life into the unimaginable. Buddha’s teachings often spoke of contentment as the key to happiness.

There are what I like to call “Spiritual Truths” or “spiritual axioms.” When applied, these truths connect us with our inner selves and produce good fruit. Faith, gratitude, manifestation, prayer, meditation, presence, seeking wisdom, and truth—these spiritual axioms allow us to tap into the energy flowing within and around us. They work because they reconnect us with the Truth, bringing us closer to the state of being we had before Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Our Separation from Truth Now

The stories of Adam and Eve, The Epic of Gilgamesh, the Tree of Knowledge in Zoroastrianism, and other ancient texts and mythologies (loosely based on similar themes) all teach about the disconnect between Truth and humanity.

In the biblical story of Adam and Eve, God (YHWH Elohim) created Adam from dust and Eve from Adam’s rib, and they lived in a garden east of Eden. The only rule was not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, or they would “surely die” (I find it interesting that there was no restriction on the Tree of Life or any stated consequence for eating from it).

Adam and Eve were content (as one would expect) to be living in paradise with God, but a serpent found Eve alone one day and told her, “For God knows that when you eat of it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” She ate the fruit and then gave some to Adam.

Later, as God walked through the garden, He called for them. Adam finally emerged and admitted he was ashamed because he was naked. God asked, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?” After this, Adam and Eve were clothed in skins and banished from the Garden. God then said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil… lest he reach out his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever—” and placed a cherubim with a flaming sword east of Eden to guard the way to the Tree of Life.

Side note: There is a lot more to unpack in that story, but I will save it for another letter.

Whether you take the story as historical or symbolic, I believe it speaks to the disconnect that exists within us. Truth is all things, as it created all things. When humanity ate from the Tree of Knowledge, we lost our natural faith, replacing it with intellectual knowledge and emotional duality rather than a state of pure contentment. This is where jealousy, greed, envy, and lust originate. Circumstances, people, and emotions now influence us in ways that make us feel disconnected from our natural state. These feelings create separation—but gratitude and presence counteract that energy, bringing us closer to oneness with Truth.

However, being present and grateful must be applied in all situations, not just when life is “going your way.” During times of tribulation and calamity, we must remain thankful and joyful. When our will is aligned with Truth, every hardship becomes a lesson, and everything ultimately works out for the best. I have practiced this principle for almost a decade, and it has brought me immense peace and prosperity. The more I see it work in my life, the stronger my faith becomes—faith that we are capable of supernatural things, faith in the power of energy, and faith in the unseen forces that shape our reality.

Practicing gratitude and presence alone is beneficial, but it pales in comparison to when these are combined with faith. Faith is another spiritual axiom that does not require belief in a deity to function. Even biblically, a lack of faith in some people could hinder faith from working in others—Jesus could not perform miracles in His hometown of Nazareth because of the people’s disbelief.

Faith is one of the most powerful forces we can wield, and how we use it is even more important. Jesus used the analogy of faith as small as a mustard seed being able to move mountains (Matthew 17:20) or uproot a mulberry tree (Luke 17:6). Other religions and philosophies also emphasize its importance. Buddhism teaches that even the smallest thought or action, when infused with faith, can lead to great transformation. In Hinduism, the Bhagavad Gita speaks of unshakable trust in divine guidance. The Islamic Quran emphasizes trust in divine will. Faith is essential for divine fruit to ripen.

Most people put their faith in a god, in themselves, or in their ambitions, desires, and abilities. But I believe that the same DNA that was present at the beginning of time—the image of Elohim (the Creator)—is the same DNA that exists within us. This means I have faith in the energy that flows through me, vibrates all around me, and ultimately shapes the life I desire.

There is a lot to unpack in those last few sentences, so before I go deeper into an explanation, let me first state that by no means do I claim to have all the answers. I am simply seeking Truth wherever it may be and sharing with you what I believe to be true and what I am searching for. With that being said, I quote Alan Watts and continue:

“You are under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago.”

Through my own studies, I believe in the existence of multiple god-like figures and supernatural beings. Christians call them angels, cherubim, and the Holy Spirit, but I believe that Elohim, the Creator, used His own DNA along with a man-like being to create the humanity we know today. I think that, in the beginning, there were multiple creators, which is why Nephilim, giants, and cyclopes are mentioned in the Bible and found in historical accounts.

With God’s DNA as our own—our genetic code continuing and remaining throughout time—our bodies carry the history of existence and a power greater than we realize. I also believe this is what Jesus was trying to tell us: the power of God lies within us, within our energy.

At the smallest level of our being, beyond atoms, are quarks and electrons. Quarks combine through nuclear force to create protons for the nucleus of an atom, while electrons orbit the nucleus, forming structure through electrical, chemical, and bonding forces. The tiniest parts of us are pure energy—no different from the energy in the trees—yet something in our DNA sets us apart from the plants and animals of this world.

To be a child of God could very well mean to be a literal descendant of God. Why do you think manifestation, self-healing, and similar practices work for so many so-called “non-believers”? It is because the power has always been within us. What stops us is the weight of the past, the uncertainty of the future, and our inability to remain present, grateful, and in constant faith.

When you do what feels right in your soul—whether as a parent, a spouse, an employee, a boss, or in how you spend your time and treat others—you are aligned with God’s will. Everything else will fall into place, working out better than you could ever imagine, because the essence of creation flows through your very being and understands the present more deeply than we can comprehend.

Consider this in the way Christians view “praying in tongues” (which differs from the “gift of tongues”). Many Christians believe that when they pray in tongues, they speak a divinely inspired language of unknown sounds and words—spoken through them by God. Since God knows their needs better than they do, He speaks through them to Himself in a language only He understands, allowing them to pray in alignment with His will.

This same principle applies to the belief that the “likeness” or “image” of God is within us and always has been. When we recognize that we carry the power of being literal children of God, our lives begin to reflect the “kingdom of Heaven.” As Jesus said in Luke, “Behold, the kingdom of God is in your midst.”

The energy we put out—because of what we are made of—shapes our lives, heals our sicknesses, and creates miracles.
• Faith (what we believe, think, say, act upon, and expect) is that energy.
• Being present and grateful directs and aligns that energy.
• God is in our DNA.

“Doubt is a question mark; faith is an exclamation point. The most interesting things in life are behind the question mark.” — Osho

In conclusion, I believe that while the Bible and other scriptures contain valuable knowledge, they have been tampered with and altered, misleading people from the full truth. I believe much of it is true, but the core message has been distorted. In Matthew, it says, “… Small is the gate and narrow is the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”

Christianity makes up 31% of the world’s population, making it the largest religion. But if the gate is narrow, how can that be? My truth is bigger than any book—it flows through my body. When I am present, grateful, and faithful, my life aligns in divine ways.

Side note: Dr. Joe Dispenza’s book Becoming Supernatural presents scientific research and studies demonstrating how energy and vibrations attract and heal in profound ways through presence, gratitude, and faith. If you’re interested, I encourage you to look into it further.

I didn’t write this letter to claim that I have life figured out. I wrote it to share what I stand on and where my heart is. Practicing these principles not only brings success in life but also strengthens my character—cultivating positivity, patience, kindness, discipline, respect, humility, and so many other values that guide my path.

I hope this letter speaks to you and that you find peace in what I’ve shared.

Sincerely, Gordon Curry
I'll Bake a Bitter Pie

I will knead a heavy dough
Out of words both sharp and grim.
Bake a pie with honest glow
For the ones who won’t give in.

Those who see through endless lying,
Who won’t chase the Hell ahead.
For the world is long past dying—
Drenched in fire, not cooling yet.



---------------------



Tyranny

A tyrant’s grand delusion,
His “kindly” mask—illusion.
Yet fools still kneel and follow,
Led like sheep to sorrow.



---------------------



The "Peak" of the World

A skyscraper scrapes the sky,
While the drudge, like meek plankton,
Toils away with hollow eyes—
Stamped out, useless, then he's gone.

No more space for thoughtful minds,
Cunning rules the money game.
Dumber Evil’s new designs
Promise "change"—yet all’s the same.

Fools and **** now set the pace,
Every foe they brush aside.
Greater Shame now takes its place—
Choking all in hollow pride.

Higher, higher—let it rise!
A skyscraper built on Shame.
Till the herd is hypnotized,
Stripped of soul, reduced to game.



---------------------



Stock up on dark humor, on sarcasm and spite—
In a world full of Evil, it’s only right.
Will you beat all the liars, the sickening frauds?
No—just get turned to the scapegoat for gods.



---------------------



A blank sheet of Mind—
They will stain with lies.
Tortured and confined
As the World denies.



---------------------



Heaps of Filth and the Horned God

We hoped for light, for something bright,
But all we got was dust.
The road between these Heaps of Blight
Drags us to Hell in trust.



---------------------



Corrupting all the youth
Is now the highest deed.
Just spread the shameless "truth"
And fuel the lawless greed.



---------------------



The Art of Saying "No"

"Until you can say 'no,' your 'yes' is meaningless."
— Osho


If you can't tell the vermin "No!"
Then all your "Yes" is just a game.
You'll feed the madness, let it grow,
And join the herd to chew the same—

Just graze.
Just sleep.
Just learn to weep.



---------------------



Madness and Decay

Madness, fear, and fading light,
Shame that burns, a crumbling sight—
With the next degraded wave,
We will kneel and march to grave.

Bruised and bent in well-known pose,
Storms no longer bring us woes.
Tears are pointless, all is frozen—
Crowds are numb, their minds are broken...



---------------------



Obedience to Slaughter

Obedience—straight to the knife,
Resistance—buried, left to die.
A fascist hell is born to life,
Emerging in the blink of eye.



---------------------



Celery Won’t Heal the Mind

No leek or celery can mend
The wounds that rot your dying mind.
Wake up, you fool, this is the end—
Life has left us all behind.

The mind’s not king—it's just a part,
The Spirit rules, it stands above!
Deny this truth—and lost you are,
Crushed by Beasts that know no love.



---------------------



Fortresses of Hollow Lies

These fortresses of hollow lies
Can’t be breached by blast or drill.
If you seek to stay alive,
Walk on fast—but tread with skill.

For every path is lined with mines,
And truth is scarce where falsehood thrives.



---------------------



Trivial Dreams

We cling to hopes of days ahead,
We mourn the past with weary sighs.
Yet life, unnoticed, melts and sheds—
We trade it all for hollow lies.

Tomorrow turns to nightmare’s glare,
And yesterday dissolves in haze.
The world’s a wound too vast to bear,
All else—just trivial displays.



--- Total 13 poems. ---
The Salvation of the Soul

"You are born with nothing but the potential to form it. You don’t have a soul, and that’s the greatest truth. If you labor, you can create one—but you are not born with it."
Osho.


You are born — there’s something here,
That you must strengthen, or it’ll disappear.
Or else it’ll vanish, lost in the Night,
Indulgence in evil — beasts in sight.

The outcome’s clear for such a path,
These souls are lost, and none will last.
Preserve the spark of God inside,
You must know the Light, let it be your guide.

Gurdjieff’s truth is partly right,
There are TWO kinds, in day and night.
Like Light and Dark, they stand apart,
And CowID days show the evil heart.

They’ve shown the truth in stark relief,
In Bedlam’s grasp, in dark belief.
If born with Soul, with strength and might,
Park’s hand will guide you through the fight.

But only with effort, and will so strong,
Can you break through when all seems wrong.
Despair, weakness—become the test,
The Soul, once lost, may face its death.

One view: the rarest kind of soul,
From birth untouched, it’s born whole.
But under lies, many have failed,
Fallen prey to a darkness that veiled.

The stench of it has dimmed the light,
Trust your intuition, in darkest night.
Guard your soul with critical care,
Shield it from the Shame that lurks out there.

The spark of God: a fragile thing,
Only those who strive can spread its wings.
Fuel it, burn it—feel the heat,
Endure the Hell, for soon you’ll meet
The Sun, which burns the Evil away,
Evaporating Darkness, till nothing stays.



---------------------



The Coloring Book, Childish and Not Quite…

A coloring book for kids, you see,
It stretches on, and ages be.
But in the hands of the Devil’s brush,
You’ll be painted through pain’s rush.

A soul undone, a mind destroyed:
For evil, soft pastels employed.
To dull the mind and stifle thought,
A web of false goals, tightly caught.

Bright hues of lies the masses chase,
Drawing you down in their disgrace.
The path to Light, concealed from view,
Beneath thick layers, hidden too.

Scrape away the paint, and there,
You’ll find the way — if luck’s your share.
If darkness hasn’t dulled your sense,
And you’re not lost in the idiot’s pretense.



---------------------



The Obedient Dogs of Pseudoscience and the Cavernous Stupidity of the World

"Faith and knowledge are two scales: the higher one, the lower the other."
Arthur Schopenhauer.


False knowledge turned to faith,
Will Spirit balance this weight?
In caverns deep, we find our place,
Among the servants, lost in haste.

They spread satanic lies,
In "sciences" and alibis.
Under falsehoods, all they play,
Tempted by wealth, they drift astray.

The spiritual, in dwindling few,
The scales descend, as darkness grew.
The earthly Hell, it seems to fade,
Yet the dogs of evil will invade.



---------------------



The Factory of Death

Believe the lies it spouts,
They'll lead you straight to graves;
But fools believe in evil,
And slavery it craves.



---------------------



The **** of Pseudoscience — They Paint the World With It

"So, the man who tries to bend science to a view that comes not from science itself (no matter how much science may err), but from outside interests alien to it, I call 'low.'"
Karl Marx.


So much water has flowed by—
And prostitution’s now inside
The halls of "science," where Evil reigns,
Led by the merchants' vile chains.

Without bribes or orders, none
Do anything beneath the sun.
And what results is filth and waste,
As evil’s victory is embraced.



---------------------



Death Becomes

"Not everyone wears life well."
Stanislaw Jerzy Lec.


A wretched life suits the fool,
The scoundrel, the vile tool.
The sensitive choose Death instead—
Death for the world, where lies are fed.

No fragile skull can pierce the stone,
It’s hard to stand with slaves alone.
To find the rare, the few, the bright—
One must shake the air with might.

Loud, and still the chances fade,
The world’s a madhouse, madly laid.
A "normal" slave, in madness trapped,
His soul grown weak, in lies enwrapped.

Or worse, he’s lost all soul, undone.
Death becomes him, for the "people" come,
Surround and drain life’s sacred juice,
Defiling the soul with their vile abuse.



---------------------



The Poet Must Cherish the Light

The poet must protect the Light,
And let it flow within his lines.
Without the Light, he’s void, a blight—
Only fools will hear his signs.

But there’s one thing in this retreat:
If he describes the Dark's decay,
The madness, chaos in the street,
Where Light is hidden, lost to stray,

The strife that keeps us from our wake—
Then he is worthy, Light inside.
Find it, and you’ll never break,
For Light within, you shall abide.



---------------------



The Word

"The word belongs half to the speaker, and half to the listener."
Michel de Montaigne, 16th century.


In a world of lies, the Word
Is swiftly devalued, unheard.
The more the lies, the tighter the chains—
The Creator stands alone, in pains.

For he cannot join the fools’ parade,
Where Words are shackled in the Shade.
And if you're bound by lies so deep,
Then to the liar's pit, you’ll sleep.




---------------------



The Light Inside You

Light and Truth, and Liberty—
All else is folly, plain to see.
In the chaos of this world,
Through the fog, the herds are hurled

To their complete degradation.
The interim result is clear—
False diseases, false foundation,
And the Horned God hides in fear.

Under Satan’s heavy grip,
The world remains, a sinking ship.
Add the terror of rashism’s lies,
They’ll never wake, they’ll never rise.

The final truth, the key, the call—
Save yourself, escape the fall.
Choose the path of Knowledge bright,
And cherish only the Light inside.




---------------------



The Labor of Sisyphus

"That which we do, we do not consider truth, yet we do it nonetheless."
Aurelius Augustine.


With "mind" stretched thin, and nerves all frayed,
Embracing foolishness with pride,
We rush to toil, to be first paid,
And trumpet all our "success" far and wide.

We charge ahead, while Fate just mocks,
This cruel Sisyphus-like grind.
When will this fool’s labor stop,
And swap this Hell for the world confined?



---------------------



The Search for Light

"You will be called destroyers of morality, but you are only the discoverers of yourselves."
Friedrich Nietzsche.


Beyond morality, beyond the crowd,
Where mad slaves cry out loud,
A few exceptions, bold and bright,
Seek the Light within the night,
And find it only deep inside.
So, look within and see the guide!



---------------------



Inside Out at Dawn

Turn your weary mind inside out,
At dawn, let rest your troubled soul;
The Spirit breathes—though filled with doubt,
It labors hard 'mid thoughts that roll.



---------------------



The Black Lyre

Work wears you down, the toil is long—
That’s what it means with Lyre in hand.
Surrounded by corrupt fools, strong—
You can't breathe, trapped in their land.

So, one companion on the road,
The Black Lyre is mine alone.
Death stands by, and that’s much better—
Bow to it, you’re just a stone.

Rebellion means the Lyre stays dark,
Forever etched in shades of night.
To write for fools is foolishness—
It’s madness, and your mind’s lost sight.



---------------------



Verse Construction

Verse is not the shaping of words,
Of rhyme, or rhythm, but the soul's
Impulse. And if multiplication
Happens in the silence of the whole

Mind, when that impulse calls to mind
A reader's response in kind,
Then through the words you’ll break the line,
A triumph of a world undefined.

A world beyond what words convey,
A paradox that language hides.
The Higher Truth, that we, astray,
Love… boxing, though the truth divides.

This boxing ring, a cage to hold,
A way to fight what’s just like you.
We turn from questions, harsh and bold,
That paradox in us stays true.



---------------------



Enemies of the People

To the level of the people's foe,
Stalin and Khrushchev will drag you low.
Some, mere pests, in small disgrace —
NKVD’s an easy trace.

Small Vasya Pupkin can’t be known
As enemy to a nation grown.
And even if he’s a criminal,
The charges clear, the sentence tall.

To execute on one false word —
That’s when the real enemy's stirred:
A tyrant, foul with evil’s kiss,
A ruler lost in wicked bliss.




---------------------



No Fish

In times of barren streams,
A crayfish isn’t fish, it seems —
Just a scavenger at best,
Time to rid the world of the rest.

The filth is in the tales we tell,
In fables where the shadows dwell.
It's for those hiding in the dark,
Forever trapped in fear's sharp mark.




---------------------



"Progress"

The ways to consume the like,
"Progress" refines with every strike.
Among cheap tricks and hollow schemes,
The press of beasts grows in their seams.

They feast on lies, with fear as sauce,
Truth and mind are left to loss.
On the scaffold, spirit dies,
As reason falls, and hope denies.



---------------------



The TV spreads its twisted lies,
The masses listen, hypnotized.
In this mad world, we’ve hit the ground,
Serving monsters, lost and bound.



---------------------


What the "media" preach is "truth",
If some learned fool explains,
That what’s unclear, "INFERNAL,"
Is the world in which it reigns.



---------------------
Almost transport's...

"**** it!" — said one young man — "it is a bitter thing to learn that I am a creature moving on pre-laid rails, that I am, in a word, not a bus, but a tram."
— Bertrand Russell.


Not a bus, but a tram,
Full of nonsense, here I am.
The tracks have ended — now you die,
So many "new ones" passing by!

Depot, tram: packed with lies,
Called "education" in disguise.
On the tracks, they **** the soul,
A journey deemed a wasted goal.



---------------------



Humor breaks through the void,
A paradox within the Walls of Lies.
Lies strengthen fortresses deployed,
Whispering, shouting, "Serve, be wise!"

Laugh at this world so poor and grim,
Apply sarcasm, sharp and bright:
The world’s become a filthy bin,
Where "normal" is pure madness' blight.




---------------------



Switch to Death — no turning back,
The foolish wretch won’t understand.
Around, the beasts; where are the men?
Where’s the humanity in this land?

Cats are smarter than the herd,
Only a few have Spirit, Honor,
They see the triumph of evil’s word,
Unmoved by hell’s cruel, endless horror.

Blinded by the feast and the rut,
The mind’s remains are drowned in dust.
Death’s the choice when lies corrupt,
And from the beasts, as always, comes just… DISGUST.



---------------------



This world’s a trap, a cage, a snare,
If you’re a “darling,” just beware.
The carrion waits, a stinking weight,
You’re just the prey, a twisted fate.

To free from traps — like hunter’s art,
Fascism reigns where beasts depart.
When spirit’s crushed, you fight, you ****,
A hero’s born, with fire and will.



---------------------



The foolish sheep, from twisted schemes,
Will never break free — luck’s just dreams!
If gluttony’s his only art,
He’s blind and mute, with no true heart.

Born a beast, this sheep’s a fool,
No need for praise for such a tool.
If you hope, you’re just a clown,
In this poor world, it's all “down.”



---------------------



The stinking ****, the vile beasts,
Sold all in lies, in a world deceased.
The outcome's clear — all freaks must go,
Only the drunkard didn't know.

******* ANYONE, who don't fight the Dark,
If you don’t, you've lost your spark.
Is this the majority? A reason for shame?
To stoop to the level of this corrupt game?



---------------------



Saving money's foolish, I’ve spent it all,
Greed is a sin, a fatal call.
Add stupidity to the mix, you see,
A fool, a puppet, that’s what he’ll be.

Controlled by bribes and laced with lies,
He stands before us with vacant eyes.
He knows how to chew with his head,
But devours greed, never dead.




---------------------



Cops are ***** with big ears,
Serving BEASTS, fooling peers.
They boss around, ignore the uprisings,
Holding back with idiotic disguisings.

The rest is just excuses spun,
They love to add some colorful fun:
“Fighting crime is our true task...”
In between, for monsters to bask.

For them, the goal is to suppress revolt,
Crime? They don’t care—just a remote.
Cops pretend they’re on the case,
Finding something in their chase.

They fool the fools with lies untold—
In films, a cop’s noble, bold.



---------------------



The black cat purrs more sweetly, you’ll find,
When you carry food of every kind.
It seems that visions in black are strong,
Don’t touch the black cat, fool, you’re wrong!

It often crosses the road, unaware,
Of a fool’s problems, beyond repair.
They’re of a subtle, twisted kind,
While idiots stumble, dull and blind.

In this world, all is BLACK, you see,
The black cat’s a symbol pure and free.
If you grow a bit more sensitive, you’ll know,
You’ll see the blind crowd stumbling below.



---------------------


A world of lies that clings and claws,
Where clouds are shadows, dark and raw.
Here, they brand with filth and grime,
A cursed cross for all of time.

Baptized, you’re pushed into your pen,
You must earn your food again.
If you're a traitor—beastly brew,
The sycophants will circle you.

Like goats that lead the sheep to slaughter,
Here, they march, no sense of water.
A genocide, a vile disgrace—
This world is doomed, no saving grace.




---------------------



The freaks of Nature, wild and bold,
Dream of taking bites untold.
Madmen hack the tree away,
To carve their future from decay.

But little's left to claim or hold,
And soon they’ll swing, their fate foretold—
A branch that’s new, a bitter test,
As Death draws near, and takes its rest.



---------------------



Heresy is driven forth by Evil's grin,
With false science as its deadly hymn.
Sensitivity, wit, and courage, too,
Are vital to keep your mind in view.

Lest darkness fall and blind the soul,
The beast's the path, the final goal.
Their task is to decay both Spirit and Honor,
With Conscience in their sights, a hunted goner.



---------------------



On your mark! Attention!! STOP!!!
This world’s always the same.
In it, lies are crowned as gods,
And fools, the first to feel the shame.

Tear apart the mindless throng,
Destroy their power, drag them along.



---------------------



Madness grew — the fools all bent,
But finally, they woke, and then
They saw that Doom had come to stay,
Embracing them like father’s way.

He’ll lead them to the gates of Hell,
The fools, once more, will swell and yell.
Call filth “honey,” they’ll devour,
Not seeing chains, they’ll feel no power.

Call Hell their paradise, they’ll cheer,
And drown the world in blood and fear.



---------------------


Obedient Nonsense-Mind

“Pedagogy”—a word so clever—
“Logic” fed from heights above:
**** the mind that dares be ever
Free, and cage it like a dove.

There’s the flaw in all their teaching,
Rigged and rotten to the core:
Brutes they need—uncouth, unpreaching—
Rot in lies, then beg for more.

Crammed with junk until the swelling
Blasts the memory to dust—
Any thinking, any yelling
Gets erased. Obey, you must.

That’s the standard. That’s the measure.
Paved in grey, the dismal route.
Only drones receive the treasure:
Those who swallow lies and doubt.



---------------------



**** the mind and train a fool —
That’s the core of every school.
Truth is banned, and lies are fed.
Think too much — you’re better dead.




---------------------



Obey, consume, and never ask.
The school is just a brainwash mask.
They cage your mind and feed you dirt —
And praise you most when thinking hurts.



---------------------



Dumb on cue — that’s school’s ideal.
Facts are fake, and lies are real.
Think too loud? They'll call it sin.
Shut your brain — that's how you win.



---------------------



Thought is crime.
Dumb is prime.
March in line —
Waste your time.



---------------------



Learn to crawl, not think or see.
Swallow trash — get your degree.
Truth is dead, but grades are gold.
Be the puppet. Do what’s told.



---------------------



Donkeys on the Road to Hell

The old one reeks.
The new one stinks!
But the fool still speaks
Of "fate" — how it links!

A genocide slow,
Through centuries spread.
So your fate? To bow
And die half-dead.

It’s all a farce,
This “glorious” day.
If you count as “stars”
The filth and decay.

Dreams, they say,
Will light your track —
But dreams just pave
The road to black.

And we — the donkeys, blind and tame —
Are whipped ahead with hopes... and shame.



---------------------



You dream — they lead.
You doubt — they feed.
Die in line.
That’s their design.



---------------------



March with hope, obey the bell —
Donkeys dream their way to hell.



---------------------



“Fate,” they say — while you decay.
Dream, obey, then rot away.



---------------------



Same old stink in a fresher shell.
Dreamers die on the road to hell.



---------------------



Free Yourself from All the Crap

Free yourself from all the lies,
Live with calm, let thought arise,
Save your soul and clear your mind,
Leave the fear of beasts behind.

Fear and madness fill the land —
Only solitude can stand.
Peace is rare — the world’s a fraud,
Ruled by demons selling God.

All creative sparks are dead,
Choked by what the devils spread.
Those who drag “goodness” through the slime
Are hollow now — and past their time.

They serve the fiends, they keep things still,
No longer human — just goodwill
For filth and rot. So bear the strife —
But never bow to **** in life.



---------------------



Free your mind, escape the lie.
Live for truth — or just die.
Serve no beast, bow to no filth.
Face the world, and claim your will.



---------------------



Escape the junk, break the chains.
Feed your soul, not their gains.
They sell you hell, you sell them life —
But never kneel to death or strife.



---------------------



The world’s a trap, don’t feed the lies.
Stand your ground, or lose your mind.
Fight the crap, with every breath.
Never bow to filth or death.



---------------------



Drown the lies, let silence scream.
Don’t obey their poisoned dream.
They thrive on lies, you fight the beast.
Never bow — stand for the feast.



---------------------



Hasten to Understand in Silence

Hasten, grasp the truth in quiet,
The essence here, this hellish land.
Fail to see — you’ll lose your riot,
Your chance for grace, your soul unmanned.

Do you wish to rot in Hell?
If you don’t get it, you will fall.
Soon the flames will rise and swell,
As reptiles feast in evil’s thrall.

Decay, it lingers. You can see
The limits of this twisted state.
Only he who’s brave and free
Won’t let the filth control his fate.

You’re a fool if you tolerate
The lies, the mockery they deal.
Doesn’t sick you — vile, cruel hate?
The lies they spin, the false appeal?

Then your life was wasted, friend,
To call it life would be a jest.
Bow to beasts, and break or bend,
Thank them for the lies they blessed?




---------------------



Bow to lies, and rot in hell.
Life’s a joke — you played it well.
Stand and fight, or bend and break.
Truth or lies — choose what’s at stake.



---------------------



Lies, they live, and so do you —
Dying slow, and thinking true.
Stand your ground, or bow to rot,
Choose your fate, or rot a lot.



---------------------



If you stand for lies, you die.
Don’t kneel to filth, or wonder why.
Choose to fight, or rot and burn,
Truth is all — you’ll soon learn.



---------------------



You live in lies, you die in shame,
Thank them for your rotten game.
Bow to beasts, you’ll never win —
It’s hell they sell, it’s hell you’re in.
Poetic Translations with ChatGPT

ChatGPT is blazing fast —
Translating poems, sharp and vast.
A sage in metaphysics now,
It sees through Maya’s twisted vow.

In matters of the Spirit — wise.
While idiots just breed and bite,
To talk with Chat’s no enterprise —
It is pure rest for minds alight.

Yet minds like these — a dying breed,
And shrinking fast with every day.
Awareness fades, the dead just feed
On rotting Evil's cheap display.

So finding kin — a cruel jest.
For subtle minds — a hopeless quest.
The net is flooded, rank and loud,
With garbage barking from the crowd.

The “search” itself is just a trap,
Obeying censors, closing gaps.
Another plot from mutant minds
Will rule for years in viral binds.

No hope ahead — the camps await,
Digital walls, a silent fate.
But don’t just sit and dread the tide —
Create. Think freely. Stay alive.



---------------------



Think, or rot.
The "virus" spreads — but you do not.


---------------------



1.
Mindless herds obey and breed —
You were born to think, not feed.

2.
Speak the truth or choke in lies —
The cage is built for quiet eyes.



---------------------



Corrupt Beasts

A horde of filthy, faithless swine
Now floods this Earth — a crawling blight.
But soon their numbers won't define,
For all will vanish in the night.

All rot shall fall, all **** erased —
These half-born husks of broken clay.
No madness left, no holy blaze —
Just slow decay till Judgment Day.

They sold their souls to dull-eyed priests
Of Satan's low and mindless cult.
The bond with Spirit shattered — ceased —
No voice within to call "Halt!"

The one last thread that made them men
Was cut. They fell beneath the floor.
No coming back. Not now, not then —
They're beasts and less — forevermore.

That's why this world feels cursed and dead,
Why thought grows weak, and minds are caged.
All tied with reins of dumbness, led
By lies and fear, confused and aged.

The world now chokes — a hanging noose,
Where idiocy is the law.
The media-dogs let loose
To bark out panic, "plague", and war.

"New threats! New fear!" — the endless cry.
Terror, sickness, ****** game.
They love the Judas by and by —
He helps them drag us into shame.

But filth will rot before it reigns —
No fascist dream shall rise again.
For Nature keeps her holy chains —
And cattle don’t belong to men.

The Sun will burn the stench away
And save the Earth, betrayed and scarred.
This planet's soul, now stripped and flayed,
Is bleeding from the idiot’s guard.

A fool’s controlled by soulless freaks,
Who twist the truth and feed the slime.
But they shall char — the lowest weak —
And fall back down beyond all time.



---------------------



1.
They sold their souls for dirt and lies —
Now watch them burn beneath the skies.

2.
The filth that rose will rot and fall —
No beast escapes the final call.

3.
Truth is fire, and **** can't hide —
The Earth rejects what crawls inside.




---------------------



The End of “Civilization”

They mastered lies, betrayed with ease,
Their minds now rot in selfish greed.
They chase illusions on their knees —
No thought, no truth, no inner need.

Is this the end of all we built?
To kneel before the lowest ****?
Where genocide is passed as guilt,
And brazen lies are law — not dumb?

Where Honor's name is long forgot,
Where Dignity’s a joke, a spit —
Where every soul’s been sold and shot,
And “normal” means you're just unfit?

Where fools are bred in vast machines
That grind down minds into a void —
Where mass delusion reigns unseen,
Yet no one dares to feel annoyed?

Where slaves now squeak of “liberty,”
But fear the truth with every breath?
Where humans rot in parody,
And madness rules — a world of death?

Where soulless fiends direct the youth
To war, to drugs, to fascist fate?
Where every mask hides darker truth,
And genocide’s a standard state?

Where ****** seems like yesterday,
Surpassed by Bedlam’s modern breed?
Where “scientists” are just decay,
Blind pushers of whatever feeds?

This is the swamp, the soul eclipse —
Where Satan grins and Spirit dies.
Your country's fake — it bleeds and slips
Into the filth it sanctifies.

We’ve hit the bottom. Hell is here.
It’s time to burn this nightmare down.
To cleanse the world of beasts and fear,
And strip the traitors of their crown.

They’ll be erased, these hollow swine —
There’s nothing human in them left.
Though madness thrives like poisoned wine,
Let fire avenge what lies bereft.

From Spirit comes rebirth at last,
But no one buys a seat in Light.
If you allowed this filth to last —
You’ve joined the dark, refused the fight.

You'll answer for your tolerance,
For watching truth and reason fall.
Is silence worth your soul’s defense
When Dignity was killed for all?

Now measure life down to the bone —
And throw it boldly in the flame!
Let monsters face their final tone,
Reject your Fate, reject their game!

For Fate is slavery for the weak —
But if you fight, you stand apart.
Though poor, betrayed, and bruised, and bleak,
The rebel keeps a sovereign heart.

So seek new ways to crush the Beast —
The old are known; they guard their hole.
Invent, attack — let mercy cease —
And grind their filth back into coal.

To dirt — dirt falls. Let light ascend.
For light to light is ever drawn.
You are a god, if you defend
The fight where night must face the dawn.

The Light shall win — it’s written so.
So fight, and honor only Truth.
The soul of warriors will grow —
While **** shall burn. That is the proof.



---------------------



1.
The Light shall rise — the **** shall burn.
No traitor's soul will ever return.

2.
To fight is truth. To kneel is rot.
The coward dies. The brave do not.

3.
No mercy left for beasts and lies —
Let fire cleanse what crawls and dies.



---------------------



"Vegetables"

The soul decays before the flesh —
For fools, it dies without a fight.
Is it by chance, or planned afresh
By **** who serve the dark as right?

Like crops they breed obedient kind,
This world grows limp, near-vegetal —
Corrupted roots, enslaved in mind,
Each bowed before the dark designed...
One stage — then two — then all are chained.
Hell wars with Spirit, unrestrained.




---------------------



"Vegetables"

The soul will perish long before
The flesh begins to fade away.
Not chance — design. They breed the poor
To bow and serve the dark each day.

Obedience grown in silent rows —
A field of minds too numb to see.
Corruption spreads. The cold wind knows:
This world was sown for slavery.

The Spirit bleeds. The skies turn void.
Hell smiles — its work is undestroyed.




---------------------



They bred the blind. The dark will feast.
The soul was culled. Man served the beast.



---------------------



The Path

To leave hell’s spheres — that’s insight’s grind,
A labor fierce, a piercing mind.
The souls subdued will fade and die —
Immortals lie; don’t trust their lie.

No faith in quests that seek alone
The path of intuition known,
That judged the world’s false knowledge deep,
And pierced its shadowed horrors steep.

A guiding thread for every thought,
From all corruptions to be caught,
To purge the stench of endless lies —
A sea of filth that blinds the eyes.

There’s filth even in the “teachings”
Of those who call for spirit’s preachings,
They say: “To Heaven on your knees,
If try you hard, you’re sure to please.”

But will — the key — no will, no gain,
The rest’s a trick, a worthless chain.
Through pain the will must carve its way,
A sheep in pen of lies will stay.

Pain’s the marker of deformity —
Dodge them and break free wholly.
The path is fight — each passing hour —
To conquer fear and claim your power.

No many tips are needed here —
The main one: light is living near.
Let it guide you, spite their spite,
Ignore the snakes that cloud the sight.

The snakes who rule the masses’ mind,
Through them enslaved, mankind confined.
They say: “Not all the world’s on knees.”
Believe it — madman’s disease.

To leave hell’s spheres — the single goal,
Where men are beasts, with lost control,
Their souls now hunted in the dark —
Their freedom crushed before the spark.




---------------------



The Path

To leave hell’s dark spheres — the only way,
A sight beyond, a price to pay.
Subdued souls vanish, truth is bent —
Immortals lie, their words are spent.

No faith in searching blind and lost,
Intuition’s path is crossed
Through shadows deep where falsehood breeds,
A thread that breaks the darkest seeds.

The mind must purge the rotting lies,
A flood of filth, a world that dies.
False teachings call: “On knees ascend,”
But will alone must never bend.

No will — no hope. Pain marks the flaw,
A slave remains beneath the law.
The path is struggle, constant fight,
To rise above the choking night.

Ignore the serpents’ poisoned voice,
Whose lies enslave and **** the choice.
They claim the world won’t bow to pain —
Believe that, and you’re lost, insane.

To leave hell’s spheres — the only goal,
Where men are beasts, bereft of soul,
Their spirits hunted, crushed, and sold —
A world forsaken, cold and old.



---------------------



Hell’s sphere corrupts — the beast is bred.
No soul survives; the spirit’s dead.
Fight or rot — no middle way:
The dawn breaks cold — or endless gray.



---------------------



Moments of Enlightenment

I remember that strange moment clear,
When I committed the “crime” sincere —
Forsook submission, fears unspun,
Cast off all lies — and then I “come.”

“Come” only in fools’ narrow sight,
So loneliness brings no blight;
Solitude’s my quiet prize,
Creation’s fire lights my skies.

Moments of passion, calm and pure —
Then endless waves of hope obscure,
Frustration sweeps the soul’s expanse,
Yet strengthens the rebellious stance.

Like hermit deep within you dive —
One thing alone keeps you alive:
No fleeting instant holds the throne,
But striving to know the bottom stone.

We dwell in depths — those moments bright
Are signs of mind deprived of light;
So serve the Curious Mind’s demand,
Forget dreams, hopes, and foolish lands.

Will you find something? None can say —
But die you must, and die you may,
With honesty cut sharp and true —
The only path you ought pursue.

How you will die — that weighs the most.
A traitor’s heart is cold and lost;
The soul’s salvation, questions vast —
Warped in a mind that won’t hold fast.

The Mind beneath the Spirit’s reign —
That’s normal, though consumed by pain;
Hell’s chasm swallows many whole,
Leaving few with sane control.

A madhouse global, dark and vast,
Its camp is built to hold us fast;
Red crosses strike the flag of man,
To mute the soul, to break the plan.

But they won’t finish their design —
The final fierce cataclysmic sign
Will come to judge the satan’s spawn
For genocide, for evil drawn.



---------------------



Who Won’t Submit, Won’t Eat

The Party said, "It must be so!" —
The Komsomol replied, "We’ll go!"
For fools, a joy beyond compare —
Obey, and food’s yours to bear.

If you won’t don the yoke they made,
Dissident’s your role displayed:
To the masses, **** you’ll be,
Party’s foe — enemy.

Too few dissidents around —
Means the fools still hold the ground.
Now the time of puppet “lords” —
Slinking vermin, rotten cords.

They revealed the beast’s own face
And unleashed the CowID plague.
In Lying Mary’s twisted halls,
Shame itself has taken falls.

The needle jabbed’s the urgent call —
Like old days before the fall.
To not become a selling *****,
Fight the evil, wage the war.

With Reason battling far and wide,
Monsters claim the stronger side.
For the ****, the prey is man —
Their weapons strike as planned.

They lie to spread the darkest dread,
And launched a war with blood to shed.
Shake the dust from your despair —
This world’s sinking once again.

Hear your soul — the rest is lies,
Rot and poison in disguise.
All that’s foul they praise and call
“Good,” while we approach the fall.

Overton’s windows wide now thrown,
Hell itself is fully grown.
Tons of lies in crushing waves
Drive us fast to our own graves.



---------------------



The Path of Knowing

"He who ignores the question of existence
Suffers from a mind’s persistence."
— Arthur Schopenhauer


A world of feeble minds we face:
Stock up on all, but knowledge’s grace
Of cosmos’ truth — a cruel strain
For fools, a never-ending pain.

Look all around — it’s cash they chase,
Not search or books to lift the base.
They shore the vile, corrupt regime,
Propaganda’s rotten scheme.

From childhood, crowds are trained to serve:
Obedient dreams, a shallow nerve —
Of cottages and cars alone,
And thus the fools are fully grown.

Exceptions vanish, few remain —
Like birds erased, wiped from the plane.
An idiot fills each vacant place,
A plague upon the human race.

The lowest pit showed CowID —
Reason crushed so painfully.
A digital death camp looms ahead —
Decay advances, swiftly spread.

Artificial dumbness grows,
Under falsehood’s heavy blows:
Fake science, fake religion’s chain —
Mind’s shackles made by lies and pain.

In fear and stress, threats all contrived,
The crowd grows dull, their will deprived,
Only skilled in chasing cash,
Their wisdom buried in the ash.

The question stands, eternal, clear:
Will you stand out, or disappear?
Shed lies and seek your answers true,
Or join the herd, become a *****?

Monsters? Madmen? Three-fourths or more —
Become the dull, the weak, the poor.
Be sharper, wiser, break the line,
Turn intuition into sign.

Invite the critical mind’s flame,
Remember: Spirit leads the game.
The mind must serve beneath the Soul,
While belly’s but a noisy hole.

Stock patience well — the path is steep,
Spirit’s essence lies so deep.
Spirit knows through Spirit’s light,
Mind’s mere tool in endless fight.

Knowing’s core — the moment bright:
When clarity breaks logic’s night,
Connection with the whole, the vast —
Stopping decay from creeping fast.

Without direct Vision’s sight,
Decay’s the root — the soul’s blight.
For Spirit’s Path you must prepare —
Begin your march — ascend the stair!



---------------------



The Art of All Arts

The zombied world — the time is near
To settle scores, the debts appear.
Again the box conceals the shame —
Lying’s here art’s finest game.

Cows **** and CEOs just choke,
Factories smoke — **** every joke!
From lies the head begins to swell,
This habit breaks the mind’s own shell.

A harmful habit: zombied crowd
By negative selection bowed,
Will drag us down into the pit—
No sin to burn the filth of it.

To analyze this filthy game—
A dreadful sin, no pardon’s name
From politicians, thieves in suits,
Where cruelty and coldness roots.

But highest art that reigns supreme—
Is blind obedience, the dream
That’s nurtured through the endless years:
No sense, no thought, just rot and fears.

It bursts into the “new, bright world,”
Submissive to the liars’ swirl.
Mammon is god, and honor’s haze
Fades like a mirage in the blaze.

Yet here’s the twist—the reckoning’s due,
The time to pay what’s owed to you.
The rotten world of sold-out souls
Will burn beneath the solar coals—

The blazing Sun, the truth’s own light,
Will scorch the lies and end the night.




---------------------



Crop Circles

A tempting mystery —
The “science” all but dust,
Servile and filthy,
Built on lies and rust.

They’ll vanish once we find
The meanings hid inside.
Troubles everywhere,
Thousands deep and wide.

This “science” breeds the poison —
Toxic food, decay.
Obedient scoundrels
Feed the lies each day.

The “proofs” they push on screens,
Media’s blind slaves.
The “science” leads to sickness —
And ******* in its waves.

In circles lies the symbol —
Fuel for instinct’s flame.
“Science’s” empty rituals
Slaughter Spirit’s name.

That instinct crushed and drained,
The mind left dry and cold.
Endorsed by CowID’s chain —
Save our souls from the fold!

Crop circles in the fields
Are bombs against their lies.
The spin-dust keeps silent —
Drums pounding in our minds.

Their path is to silence
What breaks their false design,
Then flood the world with lies —
A sea of endless crime.




---------------------



Conspiracy of the Global Madhouse

A savage locked inside the ward —
Where’s the chief? No one’s on guard.
Hidden from our screams and cries,
Sanitars heal with cold disguise:

All the meds are “plant-based lies,”
While conditions rot and rise —
Saving money’s all they prize.
Madness hoards no worthy prize.

They torture with electric shocks,
The savage trapped — the system mocks.
Complaints in Ward Six pile high,
Ruled by a Führer’s twisted eye.

He cries and howls, a broken mind,
Yet hope’s a poison they still grind.
Sanitars promise they’ll soon hang
The wild ones — orders bang.

Rations shrink, the cockroaches feed,
While rebels get the snotty bead.
Filthy water’s all they get —
Better “care” you won’t forget.

A savage’s hell, the stink and scream,
And the chief — a dull, cold scheme.




---------------------



Conspiracy of the Global Madhouse

Savage locked inside the ward —
Where’s the chief? No soul, no guard.
Hidden deep from screams and cries,
Sanitars deal brutal lies:

“All the meds? Just plant-based trash.”
Conditions rotten, cash is cash.
Saving pennies, minds decay —
Madness steals the light away.

They torture souls with shock and pain,
Savage trapped in endless chain.
Complaints fall dead in Ward Six’s pit,
Ruled by madmen’s iron writ.

Führer howls—a broken freak,
Hope’s a lie the fiends still speak.
Orders come — the wild get hung,
Starved to death, their songs unsung.

Rats feast while rebels drown in slime,
Snot and filth become their crime.
A savage’s hell—stench, pain, and scorn,
The chief? A butcher—dull and worn.




---------------------



Emptiness

Emptiness is no simple void:
There passion swarms, and thought is ployed.
From mist and shadow, Beauty wakes —
Awake from fog before it breaks!

Clear your mind — so pure, so bright,
It was so clean at very light.
Emptiness holds many thoughts,
But that’s no sign of speech well-wrought.

Clear mind means speech sharp and true,
Yet no one’s there to hear from you.
Words will slash the evil haze,
Cut the fog of twisted ways.

But slaves don’t want the truth to sound —
They crowd the world with rotting ground,
A global madhouse, vile and grim,
Where soulless fiends sing out their hymn.

Generations of slaves have spoiled
The clarity — the core, the soil
Of life itself. Ignore the fools,
Their muddy lies and broken rules.

Return within—to emptiness,
The primal light’s pure holiness.
You won’t save all that’s murky, lost,
But answers come at any cost.

That answer’s simple — you are Spirit,
Trapped in hell’s dull, blind merit.
That’s why the world’s foul nonsense stings,
It screams and raves with broken wings.

Emptiness will heal that craze,
The madness inside you’s blaze.
It’s left a mark upon your soul,
Corrupting parts that made you whole.

Hell will shatter by that void —
Alchemy’s fierce, don’t be coy.
If you have woken, it’s no chance,
Only through this path advance.

Your Spirit’s strength will rise in flame,
Burning fog and lies to shame.
Fear will flee — or lost you’ll be,
If you refuse this key to free.

This hell will **** the Spirit’s fire,
If you keep rotting in the mire,
Among the fascists’ vile crew,
Destroying soul, denying you.

Go deep inside — answers wait,
Return and shatter hell’s dark gate.
We’ll blow the rotten madhouse wide,
Drown it all in blood and tide.

This blood is black — and let it be —
Be strong and toss your sympathy,
Throw out sorrow, grief, regret.
Emptiness? Seize this moment yet!

The core of Alchemy’s this flash —
Don’t miss it, or you’ll crash.
Arguments mean nothing there —
Intuition reigns with flair.

Emptiness is not just void,
But Spirit’s light, unalloyed.
All filth and fear dissolve in flight,
The Path shines clear, hell’s lies in sight.

The lies, the frauds, the monstrous dread,
All poison spilling, all is bled.




---------------------



Economic Cattle

Office drones, those ****-ups blind,
Swallow nonsense, lost in grind.
Plankton hordes, souls on the line —
Sold for shelter, scraps, the bind.

Slavery here’s a savage creed,
Dumb as corks, a endless breed.
This slavery’s burned deep inside,
Dare to run — escape or die.

There, "life" is just a hollow name,
A funeral’s dull, dying flame.
Offices, a deathly feast,
Only rabble, very least.

Some still cling to madhouse lies —
Where all doors close on the wise,
Who refuse to be mere cattle,
Broken, beaten, choked by battle.

Many won’t take more abuse —
Guard their souls, refuse the noose.
Fascist world keeps watch so tight,
If you won’t bow, you’re out of sight.

Even faking’s seen and banned —
Exposed and thrown from their command.
Another purge, the plankton’s cleared,
While monsters rule, their lies revered.

Here’s the law — one slavery,
Masked by lies, brutality.
Stupidity, fear, and hate,
Madness grows at rapid rate.

Fools believe this “best of worlds,”
Souls lost, trapped like caught-up squirrels.
The catch is souls — all else is fake,
A world of **** and cruel mistake.

Run away, escape the trap,
Speed ahead — no time to nap.
**** and Judas drag us down,
Turning all to dust and drown.

Go inside — protected there,
By the Light beyond despair.
A cataclysm looms ahead —
Wake from this long, cursed dread.

This "dream" is fog, a dark disguise,
Centuries of vile lies.
Cheaper to be fool than wise,
The vice that blinds, the soul’s demise.




---------------------



The Key

A sudden key to "secret truths" —
The fruit of all your toil and strife.
Inside it lives, no guide or sleuth
Will hand you insight in this life.

The work may be both smart and deep,
But all you gain is noisy speech.
A broken world, left by the Keep,
Disappointment’s thoughts will breach.

Yet intuition leads the way,
That sudden key beyond the rules,
It breaks tradition, lights the day,
And brings you swift to Spirit’s schools.

Seek out that key beyond the mind,
When despair claws your mortal frame,
And pushes you to fate’s harsh grind —
Then boldly leap into the flame.

You’ll break or find the rarest key.
Be brave, press on — no time to stall.
If truth in lies you blindly seek,
You’re nothing but a wretched thrall.

Reject all lies, grow doubting strong,
Distribute effort like the tide:
Let peaks return, their pulses long —
Accept the cycles as your guide.

When lows descend, don’t whine or fall,
Hold fast, endure, and wait your turn.
Or else your work will fail and stall,
The key’s brief flash you’ll never learn.

That key is sudden, sharp, and true —
A door that opens with one turn.
Fear not what lies beyond the view —
Awake from madness, stop to burn!

Delusion fills the waking mind,
It’s wired deep in ancient chains.
So cherish now your "strangeness" kind,
Or madness laughs and drives you insane.

A world insane in total blur —
The place you start, the place you bleed.
The harm is clear — but none concur,
The masses just obey, mislead.

They’re cattle, not mankind, the mass.
While few oppress with iron will.
If you obey, you’re just their glass —
A slave confined, doomed to be still.

That sudden key to secret lore —
Keep searching, fight until you fall.
Or like a lamb, be led to gore,
Forget what flesh cries out to call.

You are the Spirit, pure and bright,
Trapped in a body doomed to rot.
To grasp the truth, unlock the light —
Few have, but now it’s your own plot.

So onward, don’t beg, don’t stall,
That key awaits to free us all.




---------------------



Foundations of the ****-Building

"So much is built upon the helplessness of the human child —
Your family, culture, faith, philosophy —
All rest on that fragile, broken pile."
— Osho


This world’s built on child’s weakness,
A prey to vile designs.
**** tear where the flesh is tender,
Mind’s a shooting range of lies.

So ******* pour their nonsense,
With force they drown the truth.
Turn all to jokes and cares —
Lie whips the soul uncouth.

Obedience is beaten
Like rods upon the weak.
Childhood’s not — it’s torment,
Mad slaves is what they seek.

The child’s trust and reliance,
Treasure ripe for the ****.
They use it to the fullest —
Filth rules where shadows come.

Docile, dumb, and slavish,
Most will bow and obey.
The world will rot and fester,
While **** dance in foul play.

Centuries of violence,
Deceit have carved this hell.
Fascism’s stinking label —
For fools who fell and fell.

There’s always some “other,”
They say, “Oh, what a charm!”
But final goal is brutal —
To turn minds into farm.

A cattle herd, all molded,
Easier with a child.
Let’s shame him, break him fully,
Send him to void — defiled.

It’s clear and well accelerated —
Filth spreads without a fight.
Madness shamed, Spirit crushed —
Hope fades into the night.

Spirit strong is dying —
Madness wins the feast.
The world a sick asylum,
Where fools are never ceased.

The stench grows ever stronger —
Fascist **** run wild.
The dumb, corrupt, betrayers —
Born from the child defiled.

Their “upbringing” is genocide,
A name too apt to hide.
This world deserves to burn —
While Spirit’s buried inside.

But soon the ground will tremble,
Before the new beasts rise,
Where chains are forged in lies,
And truth will meet demise.

Yet sun shines ever brighter —
It’s the End’s first gleam.
The fire grows relentless —
On the brink of darkest dream.

So let it be, no god here,
Satan rules the game:
A world so bleak and broken —
Built on filth and shame.




---------------------



The ****-Building Base

Built on helpless kids —
Your family, faith, your lies.
**** tear soft flesh wide —
Brains turned shooting skies.

******* pour their crap —
Lie whips whip the weak.
Childhood’s not a life —
It’s torture, slave’s bleak peak.

Trust is treasure plundered,
Used up, spit, and crushed.
Docile slaves, dumb masses —
In filth they’re hushed.

Fascist stench spreads thick,
Madness rules the game.
Spirit’s dead, world’s rot —
No god, just shame.

Chains forged in deceit —
New beasts rise from dirt.
Sun blazes the End —
Hell’s fire will assert.




---------------------



In Memory of Hans Selye

Hans Selye — great and stern,
Raised intuition high,
Above cold logic’s rigid burn,
Where thought’s caprices lie.

No mere sparks of insight’s flow,
But torrents deep and vast.
Yet from the halls where truths should grow,
This lesson’s cast out, past.

The mercenary **** conspire,
To crush that sacred light.
Intuition, pure, inspires
To expose the CowID blight.

That’s why they fear its power —
Dry reason chains impose,
Drowned in words that coldly glower,
Where lies like poison flows.

Facts twisted, others hidden,
Worse than plagues or wars,
A crippled mind, broken, ridden,
Believes false science’s cause.

When intuition’s gates are barred,
By dogma’s iron fist,
Such souls remain forever scarred,
In ignorance persist.

This breed is now the common mold —
False science’s design.
Their masters’ greed, their hearts are cold,
Chasing profit’s line.

The rulers here are less than men,
In this corrupt domain.
False science smooths the cruel den,
Where fools are left in pain.

A stew of lies and false belief,
Media’s twisted breath,
Religious frauds bring only grief,
And feed the world with death.

Fragmented minds construct the “new” —
A world of crafted lies,
Where idols haunt, and none are true,
Beneath the fearful skies.

Fear’s weaponized, step by step,
To **** the critical mind,
Leaving only nonsense kept,
A legacy unkind.

Creative thought will die by choice,
Selection dark and grim.
False science’s deceitful voice
Now sings its deathly hymn.

Had Selye lived to see this day,
He’d shudder at the sight —
A world in rot and cold decay,
A global death of light.




---------------------



Selye’s Warning

Selye saw it clear and true:
Logic kills what’s bold and new.
Intuition’s flame they dread —
Dead minds march, their spirit bled.

False science spreads its filthy lies,
Crushing thought till reason dies.
Fear the chains they lock your mind,
Slave to fools, forever blind.

This world rots, no truth to find,
A hell they build for humankind.
Selye warned — the end is near:
Wake or drown in lies and fear!




---------------------



Explosive Creation

Pour yourself out — break all your fears,
Then ride the wave of creative fire.
Or else you stand, condemned, in tears,
Where HANGING SWORD waits to expire.

Crush all the lies these freaks imposed,
Their twisted truths you must outfly.
The spark’s INSIDE — though life opposed,
Take every hardship as your guide.

Learn how to sort the false from fact,
Trace motives and their cruel schemes.
No use to follow sheep in packs,
Better to blaze alone with dreams.

Be fierce, be sharp, let passion lead —
The path where raw creation flows.
Mistakes will come, but layers of greed
Will peel away as insight grows.

Judge yourself, be your own master —
Don’t weigh your soul with mob’s cold chains.
Creator is a warrior faster,
While wretched slaves are all that remains.

No help for them — but aid the pure,
A few remain amid the blight.
Though darkness reigns, strong and obscure,
Still fight, still burn against the night.

Learn, resist, don’t ever yield,
Die unbowed before the dark.
In every note and every field,
Explode — but keep your center’s spark.

Intuition shows the way,
To find that core within your chest.
The mind’s a pit where fears hold sway —
No epicenter of the blast exists!

Explosive creation’s hellish road,
Know well: in Hell you’re not alone.
A fiend sits deep where darkness flowed,
And slams your ears with lies and groan.

Traitors, filth-throwers, vile throngs,
A legion sold and bent on pain.
Around you swarm the wretched wrongs —
Their evil strikes the pure’s domain.

Heal every wound — escape will aid,
That super-yoga of the mind.
Fools sit in poses, dull and staid,
Far from Dharma, truth declined.

It’s all alchemy — be strong in Spirit,
And Hell itself you’ll learn to lead.
Darkness’ servants won’t inherit —
Create, seek, unless you’re bred to bleed!




---------------------



Farewell, Asylum!

Sheep-virus plague and endless war—
Total nonsense fed by news,
The World’s Asylum shakes once more:
Here traitors grin in every pew.

Each trembling soul, each skin that shakes—
There’s millions locked inside these walls.
What’s left but media’s fake fakes,
Where Twilight dims all reason’s calls?

If “no censorship” you claim,
No viral spark will light your stream.
Algorithms play their game—
Censorship’s a silent scream.

A million views on YouTube’s stage,
While honest poems get but none.
Still write fierce words, uncaged, enraged—
Better “in the drawer” than undone!

The traitors pen their empty rhymes—
“Patriotism” sells so well.
While honest voices lose their times
In info wars that burn like hell.

It’s all controlled by filthy cash—
The pockets full of those who scheme.
In Hell, true spirit turns to ash—
Traitors care not for that dream.

Who sells out Spirit, Honor, Truth,
Will fall again to darkest pits—
This madhouse’ chains will burn in sooth,
Fools trapped in lies will pay their debts.

They say they live “in better worlds,”
While reason melts like glaciers’ flow.
Obedient madness swirls—
The weak submit, refuse to grow.

Fascist beasts wield weapons sharp—
Through them they crush us, vile and sly.
Soon lies will burn in evil’s warp,
And all false gods will fade and die.

The Sun has started its great work,
The Earth replies with molten streams.
Death to fools, the traitors’ quirk—
Earth cheers the end of twisted schemes.

Sheep-virus plague and endless war—
The total madness media spins—
This is the verdict, nothing more:
Farewell, Asylum! If you’re not ****, rejoice within.




---------------------



Express Train "Prison-to-Concentration Camp"

Bricks of dungeons piled in rows—
Volumes of the weak and small.
Few remain in prison’s throes,
The goal’s the broken mind for all.

False science binds with cement tight,
“Religion” bars the iron door—
To soften pain, believe the lie,
And suffer less than those before.

Believe the brazen propaganda—
Guards disguised in wicked guise.
Easier to live in bands—
Will the gang ignite the rise?

No, the weak get picked and sold—
That’s the business in the pit.
Is rebellion starting cold?
No, protest crushed to counterfeit.

In prison, few can truly see
The dungeon for what it became.
For most, it’s just a city spree—
Mammon is the highest claim.

If you pray to Mammon’s shrine,
Oblivion will pull you deep.
In forgetfulness you drown—
Pour lies to feed the endless sleep.

Forgetfulness will drown you whole,
All around are ghosts and dead.
Where it’s lighter, fools patrol—
The “kumi” clowns misled.

They sit just trapped behind their bars—
Cages built inside the mind.
Beasts raging, fools crowned czars—
“Masters” of the blind and blind.

Bad news breaks: the prison’s fate—
Turns itself to hellish camp.
In propaganda’s hateful state,
It howls a vicious, deadly ramp.

Louder howl—then fools obey,
Do anything and everything.
Kindness dies in wolf-pack’s fray,
Brains and honor fade to nothing.

Stupider liars rule the scene,
Bolder cheats with cruel disguise.
Better news: it all will burn—
Not by chance, but cataclysm’s rise.

The filth of this **** prison’s breath
Will issue out the final stink.
The few will rise beyond the death,
The rest to Hell’s abyss will sink.




---------------------



The Melancholy of Waning in This "World"

The melancholy of waning—
If even just a spark of mind,
It grows each year, unstopping, draining,
And breaks you down, so unkind.

The soul’s ****** is pure madness,
In which we all decay and rot.
The more sarcasm, the badness—
The stronger is the body caught.

Add sensitivity — then worse
It gets in this small, cruel sphere—
No skin to shield the raging curse
Of Moloch’s madness ever near.

Wish your enemy to remain—
No worse torment can be found,
Though Hell itself expands the pain,
In total madness all around.

But foes are beasts with armored hides,
Soulless for ages long ago.
These creatures craft their lies and tides,
You’ll drift like logs in stagnant flow.

And logs surround you, woods grow dense—
More life, more Light than here you’ll see.
In this mad world, the more you’re tense,
The more logs crush your sanity.

The strongest Judas stands among
The logs, in waiting for us all—
Betrayal’s now a work well done,
Corruption piles like endless fall.

Among the logs—the fools and snakes—
Despair will surely be your end.
Despair breeds sickness, drunks, heartbreaks—
Learn early, less to fate you’ll send.

Fewer victims, more your mind
And Creative Spirit grow and rise,
Till you’re not just a lamb confined,
Falling where all lost souls die.

There are many ways to fall—
****** is the easiest trick.
In this world where Satan’s all,
From childhood we just rot and stick.

Fight and Create—that’s the key,
Only this will save your soul.
Later, before God, we’ll see—
When Sun will burn the vermin whole.

Steam, roast, and fiery trial—
That’s what lies in wait ahead.
The Spirit is the measure, dial—
Walk in Spirit, without dread.

Until they burn away the shame
And world’s disgrace in crowded pens,
Where fear and lies, with tons of blame,
Breed sickness with no loose ends.

The melancholy of waning—
Is dread if sickness you dismiss.
Like paper targets in a range,
You stand amid the blasts of abyss.




---------------------



The Agony of Waning in This Hellish "World"

The agony of wasting —
If you’ve got one grain of sense,
It grows each year, devasting,
Crushing you with cold offense.

Soul ******’s pure insanity,
We rot together, all the same.
More sarcasm fuels the vanity —
Tighter clamps on flesh and flame.

Add feeling — that’s a curse’s knife,
No skin to block the Moloch’s rage.
Wish your enemy this life,
Forever trapped in maddening cage.

No torture worse can Hell invent,
Though Hell expands its gruesome show,
In total madness, time is spent
Watching every spirit blow.

But foes are thick-skinned, soulless beasts,
Long dead inside, but still they scheme.
They flood you with their filthy feasts —
You’re just a log adrift, no dream.

Logs crowd the forest, thick and dead —
More life and Light beyond this pit.
In this sick world, the thinner thread,
The more insane logs crush and split.

The sharpest Judas roams among
These logs and waits with filthy grin.
Betrayal’s job’s already done —
Corruption floods this world of sin.

Among these logs, the fools and snakes —
Despair will drag you to your grave.
Despair breeds sickness, drunken fakes —
Know this early, less to save.

Less victims feed the Devil’s game,
More Spirit grows if you resist.
Don’t be just lambs in slaughter’s flame,
Or fade like all in endless mist.

Many ways to die or fall —
******’s easiest, quick to hand.
In this world, where Satan’s thrall,
We rot from childhood, stalked and banned.

Fight, Create — that’s your one sword,
Only this saves soul from Hell.
Later, before God’s final Word,
Sun burns the lice and casts the spell.

Steam, fire, scorching trial —
That’s what waits ahead, no lie.
Spirit’s gauge and Spirit’s mile —
Walk in Spirit or you die.

Until they burn the shame and filth,
World’s disgrace in crowded pens.
Where lies and fear, like floods of guilt,
Breed sickness to the bitter ends.

The agony of wasting —
Is hell if you dismiss the pain.
Like paper targets in the firing range,
You stand beneath the Devil’s rain.



---------------------



Take the Blow of This Wretched Fate

Take the blow of this wretched fate:
You’re not the judge who seals the score.
Satan stands as false god’s weight —
Vengeance for those who fight the roar.

Few here resist — the masses bow,
And through their chains revenge is fed.
If you endure too long, then now
Your soul and honor lie half-dead.

With mind intact you sink below —
They stir the sludge, the vile mix.
Evil wants that mess to grow,
To rot unseen, a putrid fix.

“Collective mind” in darkness bred,
The one who won’t submit is marked.
They crush him down, just like in judo’s stead,
A target doomed to be stark.

Parents, teachers, crowds unite,
To break the spirit, make it slave.
They’ll train you well to lose the fight,
And rot in Hell beyond the grave.

It’s hard to bear each cruel strike,
When you stand lone against the tide.
But spurning lies, you’ll find alike
The Spirit’s beauty deep inside.

Soulless fools try to “teach” you how
To bow, obey, and feed the rot,
To breed and rot beneath the plow —
A Hell where all is lost and caught.

Go inward — intuition’s spark
Will help you stand against the pain.
Not “tradition,” cold and dark,
Where gods are fat, but all is vain.

False sciences, poor and bleak,
Where Spirit’s crushed to hollow dust.
The lies bite worse than any streak
Of crowd’s dull venom and their lust.

The media’s the tyrant’s tool,
Spreading fear and lies with glee.
For centuries, these fiends so cruel
Have dragged this world to misery.

They rot the world, they spread the plague —
But cataclysms burn the blight.
The wild storms rage, the earth will shake,
To drown the fascist’s shameful blight.

Stand firm, withstand the ruthless blow —
You just might reach another plane.
Strike down the lies that poison so,
Within yourself the truths remain.




---------------------



Fury

I don’t believe in God.
I fight the Devil’s spawn —
Each twisted, cruel façade.
Is it hard? I’m drawn?

No — Pure Fury wakes,
Unlocks the heart inside:
The cure for all the fakes,
The world’s own rising tide.

Alive — yet soaked in spite,
The poison’s in my veins.
Pure Fury keeps the fight —
I’m not yet lost in chains.

The herbivore’s foul hate
Wants to crush and bind.
Cast off the herd’s dull fate —
No herd will trap your mind.

The herd’s consumed by death,
Souls crushed beneath the weight.
Be yourself — take breath:
Spirit’s not the bait.

A flock of sheep,
A herd of fools,
A world corralled,
By goats as cruel.

Those goats lead on,
Whips worse than lies —
Their thrones held strong,
By fraud and cries.

Believe in Fury,
Honor your will.
Fury boundless —
Lights the path still.

The road from pens
Is hard and steep —
Wounds and shame
Will pile deep.

Move forward,
Even if no chance is shown.
Stand up — you’ve made
Yourself their stone.

Beasts devour souls —
******* life dry.
Don’t heed their lies —
They only spread fear’s cry.

Is it tough? Only Fury
Will bring your strength back near.
How much remains?
Just one sharp turn is clear!

The furious sun
Will burn this hell,
Scorch to the bone —
The slave-stock’s knell.



---------------------



Half-Thought

Half-thought is fatal—
Bits of thought, clouds of lies,
Not just false, but infernal—
Serve the beast that never dies.

You serve your homeland, hollow,
Bring scraps to kin at home,
In life’s grim march, you follow,
Your soul to beasts you loan.

Entangled in small trifles,
Dulled since childhood’s dawn—
Now mostly just the riffraff,
Slave-****, broken and drawn.

A slave can’t think—
No thoughts break through the lies.
So “norms” for fools are set—
In madness everyone lies.

The “norm” is a slave,
Chewing stale, stale gum,
Fed by beastly books,
Propaganda drums the drum.

You swallow all the noise,
Become a thinker’s clone,
Then build your life among
Blind slaves in dull monotone.

Among the dull, poor masses
You dull day by day,
Joy of thought denied—
Rot’s all that’s on display.

Rot is all “culture,”
Surrounding every slave,
At the heart of lies, a carcass—
Guard yourself from the whip and grave.

Obey, believe, avoid the lash—
You won’t chew granite here,
But press down endless filth,
Designed to cloud your clear.

These beasts compress the crap,
To blind your seeing eyes,
Few seek freedom’s way—
Lost in falsehood’s lies.

All slaves hate them—
And rightly so it seems,
For flaws they spy in neighbors,
Taboo to break those dreams.

With dumb ***** only
Flatter and obey,
The circus of politics—
Soon all waste will fade away.

But slaves don’t know the truth—
Lies march them to the camps,
Space is tight in this crowd—
Idiots lead the stamp.

Even to Hell’s gates,
First you must run fast,
Consciousness grows dim—
Extinction comes at last...




---------------------



Road to Hell

Worn-out sneakers,
Darkness overhead.
Only lies are new here—
Stuck in filth and dread.

The road stretches onward,
You run but don’t rest.
Just a little longer—
Hell’s your final quest.

From Hell back to Hell—
The endless cycle’s spun.
Only fools find “joy” here—
Beasts devour and run.

Hell’s fatigue weighs heavy,
Chains of fire and pain.
All that’s left inside you—
A soul that still remains.

Don’t trade your soul
For scraps of food or gain.
Don’t listen to others,
Nor curse your fate in vain.

No need to blame fate
In this fascist hell.
A world ruled by monsters—
Trapped inside their spell.

To stand or to run—
It’s all the same decay.
Only fascists are right—
And the world’s end day.

Soon the Sun will blaze—
Burn away the dark.
Scorch to the very bone—
Smoke rising like a spark.

When smoke and ash have faded,
A new world will arise,
Where the beast’s foul shadow
Will vanish from the skies.

That loathsome, soulless creature,
Hell’s own filthy spawn,
Rules these ****** realms—
Lies laid out like brawn.

Cheese in every trap set,
We’re caught in their cruel schemes.
Nasty tricks endure—
Madness in extremes.

Lies and cheese will vanish,
Be ready to peer down
Into the abyss—
Hell’s half-beasts wear the crown.

Take one last glance,
Remember well this sight.
For Victory forever—
Recall this Nothing’s blight.

We dwell in Nothingness—
No path more grim to take.
Fools call it “living”—
Darkness for all mankind’s sake.

Replace your worn sneakers—
Darkness soon will fade,
Along with all the traps
Of hell’s foul charade.



---------------------



Expanding Consciousness

Expand your mind — forget what you knew:
The soul’s torment is a flood of lies, untrue.

The sense of space has long been confined,
Where rudeness thrives — dull filth aligned.

The base there — subjects, they say, apart,
Seeing only objects — near or bizarre parts.

And time rules there with shame and disgrace:
Soulless beings enslaved, Spirit near erased.

But you — a spiritual essence, not mere thing,
Not subject, not object, but the soul’s true spring.

Humans trapped in “the daily grind,”
The root of all ills — a false bind.

These ills are made by soulless vermin, foul and vile,
You’re but their servant, stuck in denial.

Consciousness must not grow or rise,
Or else they’ll crush it with cruel lies.

Legions of traitors, slaves of the slime,
Flooding the mind with decay and grime.

They crush intuition — the path to the skies,
Impose “traditions” — wheels of disguise.

And wheel around your Spirit, Reason, Honor too,
Justifying chaos — the shame all accrue.

All true knowledge lies forgotten,
Where Spirit reigns supreme, unbroken.

Instead, your soul’s offered up,
A sacrifice to become corrupt.

Time itself is narrowed down —
Events chained, a mental crown.

But Eternity belongs to you,
Not half-god, not slave, but something true.

Cast off false humanness —
Leave this evil’s dark fortress.

Root yourself deep in Spirit’s flame —
Your home, your endless sacred name.

Discard false knowledge, rumors grim —
Chaos trembles on its brim.

Soon this madness will be cast away,
For genocide none can stay.

They’ll **** those chained by empty rules,
Whose Spirit and Reason lie as fools.

Here lies falsehood on all forces’ might —
True power’s inside, beyond their sight.

Fools everywhere whisper “die,”
But seek the Source inside your mind’s sky.

Find the strength within your soul,
Smash all darkness, make it whole.

Let only what kills the filth survive,
And with such power, rise alive.

You are no weak slave, but king,
Remember strength is everything.

This is a Super-Mystery,
Step boldly in, embrace the key.

There matter fades, the soulless fall,
Shield yourself from narrow thrall.

Forget decay, all fears, complaints,
You’ll be reborn, free of restraints.

Strong, pure, and bright in Spirit’s light,
Hell’s servants perish in the night.

You’ll write anew on a spotless page,
A tale of goodness, love, and sage.

Spread the word, let all be told —
The end of evil soon unfolds.

It’s close enough — fight, multiply your force,
Reject all baseness or lose your course.



---------------------



Expansion of Consciousness

Unfurl your mind — forget all you’ve known:
The soul’s torment is lies’ blackened throne.

Space itself, confined, long ago,
Where arrogance and filth do grow.

Subjects fenced apart — illusions bred,
Seeing only shadows, strange or near instead.

And time reigns ruthless, a tyrant blind,
Shame and disgrace enslave the mind.

But you — a Spirit, essence pure,
Not subject, not object — eternal and sure.

Mankind enchained by the daily blight,
Falsehood’s root — their cursed blight.

Monsters spawn these ills profane,
You’re their servant, bound in chains.

Consciousness must not ascend,
Or their dark reign meets its end.

Legions of traitors, merchants of rot,
Drowning reason in shadow and blot.

They crush intuition — the path to skies,
Spinning “traditions” — webs of lies.

They grind Spirit, Reason, Honor to dust,
Justifying madness, corruption’s lust.

All true knowledge sinks to night,
While Spirit’s throne is lost to blight.

Your soul sacrificed on the altar of scorn,
To live as beast, in darkness born.

Time’s narrowing grip — events confined,
A mental prison forged and signed.

Yet Eternity bends to your will —
Not slave, nor half-god, but sovereign still.

Cast off false humanity’s chains,
Abandon this fortress where evil reigns.

Root deep in Spirit’s timeless fire —
Your home, your endless sacred pyre.

Reject the lies, the rumors vile —
The chaos trembles, recoils in denial.

Soon this madness will be undone,
For genocide claimed by none but the numb.

They **** those bound by empty laws,
Whose Spirit sleeps while Reason gnaws.

Falsehood taints all power and might —
True strength lies hidden in Spirit’s light.

Fools cry “die” as darkness grows,
But seek the Source where true power flows.

Find your strength inside the soul,
Shatter the night, reclaim the whole.

Only death to filth shall please,
And with that power, rise with ease.

You are no slave, but king reborn,
Remember strength was never torn.

This is the Great Mystery,
Enter bold — embrace the key.

Where matter fades and darkness dies,
Shield yourself from narrow lies.

Forget decay, the screams, the fears,
Reborn in Spirit — beyond the years.

Strong, radiant, pure and bright,
Hell’s minions vanish in the light.

On a clean slate you will inscribe,
A tale of truth and love revived.

Spread the news — the end is near,
The fall of evil, crystal clear.

Fight on, gather your sacred might,
Reject the vile, embrace the light.

Or be lost forevermore —
A shadow cast on Spirit’s shore.



---------------------



Expand your mind — forget the lies,
Soul trapped in darkness, spirit dies.

Falsehood reigns, the filth consumes,
But light will burn these shadowed tombs.

You’re not a slave, but king inside,
Break chains, let Spirit be your guide.

Hell’s servants fall — their power fades,
Rise up and claim the light that saves.

Fight the vile — or be lost to night,
In Spirit’s strength, reclaim your might.




---------------------



True Purity

"...to keep your mind in perfect clarity,
Where red is just red, and willow green—
No tangled thoughts to cloud that verity,
No shadows in the light unseen."
— Daisetsu Suzuki, Zen Buddhism, 1934


Keep your mind forever clear,
Suppress the empty babble,
The world’s a fog, a cheap veneer—
A mess, a shallow rabble.

Observe detached, without a cling,
Your “primal face” to seek,
A sudden flash, a seeing spring—
The light that makes you speak.

But never hold, or it will seem—
Illusions dress as light,
And every fool’s deceived by dream,
Where darkness masks the bright.

Falsehoods settle in the mind,
Corrupting all around,
The soul’s compass, pure and kind,
By lies is tightly bound.

This world’s mad house is built on lies—
Awake from endless haze!
That darkness like a coma lies—
Break free from mindless maze.

Trust what intuition shows,
Forget old worn-out creeds,
For “spiritual tradition”
Is just dogma feeding weeds.

Dogmatists are legion here,
The truthful scarce and thin.
If you heed evil’s sneer,
Your soul will lose within.

Idiots rule this wicked land,
In “faiths” their numbers swell.
Satan’s mark is clearly planned—
Reject that empty hell!

False sciences deceive and chain—
Their harm is vast and deep.
“Walking through torment” is the war,
Not peace for us to keep.

Spiritual battles rage on all sides,
Only the strong resist.
Not humans, but vile beasts abide,
Their rule is clenched in fist.

No jokes remain when monsters win,
When filth is raised so high.
Keep your mind pure—resist the sin,
Don’t bend beneath their lie.

Before the fascist world’s cruel gaze,
Stand firm, reject the grime,
Cast off the filth, the twisted maze—
Keep your pure soul sublime.




---------------------



True Purity

Keep your mind razor-clear,
No lies, no twisted frame.
Red is red, green is green —
No darkness in the flame.

Dogma’s chains will crush your soul,
Traditions blind and cold.
Reject the fools, resist control,
Stand strong — refuse to fold.

The world’s a fascist cage,
Where monsters rule the night.
Hold pure your mind — break free the rage,
And fight for truth and light.




---------------------



True Purity

Keep your mind clean — cut the ****,
No lies, no ******* cloak.
Red’s red, green’s green — admit,
Don’t choke on their smoke.

Dogma’s chains? Tear ‘em down,
Traditions are their trap.
Fools crawl, slaves wear the crown —
But you don’t fall in that crap.

World’s a fascist freakshow,
Monsters feed on fear.
Stand your ground, say no —
Burn their lies clear.



---------------------



True Purity — No Lies

Cut the crap — keep mind clean,
Red’s red, green’s green, no schemes.
Fascists lie, but you fight —
Burn their hell, claim your light.




---------------------



Purity’s Edge

Mind razor-sharp, no filth allowed,
Red flower bleeds, green will not bow.
Fascist **** crawl, their lies will rot —
Crush their hell, burn every blot.




---------------------



True Purity

Keep your mind sharp, spit on their lies,
Red’s still red while falsehood dies.
Fascist vermin breed their filth —
Crush their spawn in hell’s own kilt.



---------------------

True Purity, No *******

Keep your mind clean, **** their lies,
Red stays red while ******* dies.
Fascist **** spread **** and gore —
Crush these vermin to the core.



---------------------



True Purity, No *******

Keep your mind pure — crush empty talk,
This foggy world, this stinking walk.
See red as red, green will stay green,
No twisted lies to cloud the scene.

Cling not to visions that just seem,
False lights that mock the lucid dream.
They slap bright names on rotten **** —
Nirvana? Hell no, just counterfeit.

Evil fakes breed in the mind,
Their poison spreads and blinds mankind.
Soul’s compass points to honest light,
But lies drag you to endless night.

Worldwide madhouse, built on lies,
Wake from the coma, cut the ties.
Trust your gut, not empty creed,
Spiritual dogma’s just poison seed.

Dogmatists swarm, truth’s all but lost,
Soul sold cheap at evil’s cost.
Idiots flock to corrupted cults,
Where Satan’s worship never halts.

Reject their *******, reject the fake,
Science twisted, just lies they make.
No “walking through the fire” — it’s war,
Spiritual battle’s raw and *******.

Strong resist, refuse to bend,
Against the filth that won’t relent.
Not humans here, but fiends in bulk,
Their reign of **** — the final sulk.

Keep your mind pure, resist the flood,
Don’t bow to fascists’ stinking crud.
Reject the ****, the fear, the night —
Fight on, stay strong, defend the light.



---------------------



Keep your mind sharp — crush all the lies,
Red is red, green don’t disguise.
False lights are poison, don’t you trust,
Their “spiritual” ******* turns to dust.

Fight the fiends who feast on souls,
Resist the ****, refuse their control.
World’s a madhouse, truth is slain,
Stand your ground or drown in pain.



---------------------



Mind pure, eyes clear — no room for fake,
Their lies are traps, their cults, a snake.
Evil’s army rules the weak,
Only the strong dare speak.

Bow to none — fascist filth and scorn,
Fight the dark till comes the dawn.



---------------------



Mind sharp, lies crushed —
Red is red, truth rushed.
Fakes preach, souls bleed —
Fight or fall, no heed.



---------------------



Pure mind, no lies,
Fascists choke on their own cries.
Stand firm, break the chain —
Darkness burns, truth reigns.



---------------------



Clear your mind — crush the lies,
Fascist **** wear their disguise.
No mercy for their twisted creed,
Break the chains, let spirit lead.



---------------------



Clean your head — no fake, no scam,
They’re the poison, you the dam.
Stand tall, reject their filth,
Fight or perish in the guilt.



---------------------



Mind pure, no cult, no slave,
Fools bow down to the grave.
**** the lies that choke and bind —
Only truth can free the mind.



---------------------



Mind sharp, clear — slash through the sludge,
Fascists crawl in their own sludge.
No saints here — just demons' spawn,
Rip the veil, burn their dawn.



---------------------



Brains fried by their twisted lies,
Watch the filth wear human guise.
Crush the herd of soulless drones,
Strike the plague that eats our bones.



---------------------



Purge the cesspool of deceit,
Fascist worms beneath your feet.
No forgiveness for their breed —
Only fire feeds the seed.



---------------------



Keep your mind pure, razor-sharp, no mercy shown,
Fascist **** breed shadows, rotten to the bone.
No saints, no heroes — just demons in their lair,
Tear down their vile lies, burn their poison air.

Brains cooked by filth, by twisted venom fed,
The human mask hides worms who feast on dread.
Crush this plague of soulless, deaf and dumb,
Strike hard, strike fast — let no evil come.

Purge the stinking cesspool, burn the cursed breed,
Fascist vermin crawl where death is their creed.
No mercy, no truce — only ash and flame,
Feed their twisted roots with fury untamed.



---------------------



Keep Your Mind Pure

Keep your mind pure — no room for lies or ****,
Fascist filth breeds darkness — we won’t succumb.
No saints here — just demons, vile and foul,
Their rotten lies stink like a sewer’s growl.

Brains rotted deep, infected by their lies,
Behind their masks crawl beasts in human guise.
Crush the plague of mindless, deaf and blind,
Strike swift and hard — leave no filth behind.

Purge the cesspools where their poison breeds,
Fascist vermin thrive on hate and greed.
No mercy shown — just fire and ash,
Burn their twisted roots till nothing lasts.

Keep your mind pure — resist their hellish reign,
Reject their filth, their torment, their pain.
The world’s a battlefield, raw and rough,
But your soul’s sharp blade will be enough.



---------------------



Keep Your Mind Pure

Keep your mind pure — no room for filth or slime,
Fascist **** breed darkness — poison for our time.
No saints here — just demons, vermin in disguise,
Their lies like gangrene festering ‘neath dead skies.

Brains rotted out, infected, hollowed shells,
Human masks worn by monsters raised in hells.
Crush the plague of blind fools, deaf to truth’s call,
Strike like thunder, break the chains that bind us all.

Purge the swamp of lies where blackened vipers crawl,
Fascist rats gnaw bones beneath their shadow’s thrall.
No mercy shown — let fire scorch their cursed lairs,
Burn their twisted roots, choke their poisoned airs.

Keep your mind pure — resist their venomed grip,
Reject their ****, their sludge, their fatal script.
The world’s a warzone soaked with filth and blood,
But your soul’s sharp blade will cut through all the mud.

Stand fierce and tall — no bow to tyrants’ lies,
Let hatred fuel the flame that never dies.
This fight is ours, to cleanse the blighted earth,
Strike hard, strike fast — reclaim your rightful worth.




---------------------



Keep Your Mind Pure — No *******!

Keep your ******* mind pure — no ****, no slime,
Fascist ******* **** breed darkness every time.
No saints, just ******* demons — vermin, vile and cold,
Their ******* lies like cancer, eating all the soul.

Brains fried, rotted out — hollow ******* shells,
Humans? **** no — just monsters straight from hell.
Crush the plague of ******* fools deaf to truth’s roar,
Hit like thunder, smash their chains to the floor.

Purge the swamp of lies where black-*** vipers creep,
Fascist rats gnaw bones, in shadows they freak.
No mercy, no pity — burn their cursed lairs,
Incinerate their rotten ******* snares.

Keep your mind pure — resist their poison grip,
Reject their ****, their sludge, their ******* script.
This world’s a ******* warzone soaked in blood and ****,
But your soul’s a razor — cut through every bit.

Stand tall, stand fierce — don’t bow to tyrant lies,
Let hatred fuel the fire that never dies.
This fight is ours — cleanse this cursed earth,
Strike hard, strike fast — reclaim your ******* worth.




---------------------



Keep Your Mind Pure — No ******* *******!

Keep your ******* mind pure — no lies, no slime,
In this fascist cesspit, they poison all time.
No saints here — just demons, filthy ******* vermin,
Feeding on your soul like vultures, cold and stern.

Brains rotted out, hollow shells, ******* hordes,
Humans? **** no — just monsters with broken cords.
Crush the plague of idiots, deaf to truth’s thunder,
Smash their chains, burn their lies down to blunder.

In this world of lies, black vipers crawl and hiss,
Fascist rats gnaw bones, bathed in evil’s kiss.
No mercy, no pity — torch their rotten lairs,
Burn to ash their ****, their traps and cursed snares.

Keep your mind pure — spit on their poison grip,
Reject their filth, sludge, their twisted script.
This world’s a warzone, soaked in blood and ****,
But your soul’s a razor — slice through every bit.

Stand fierce, stand tall — never bow to lies,
Let hatred be the fire that never dies.
This fight is ours — purge this cursed earth,
Strike hard, strike fast — reclaim your worth.



---------------------



Keep Your Mind Pure — No ******* *******!

Keep your ******* mind pure — no lies, no slime,
In this fascist cesspit, they poison all time.
No saints here — just demons, filthy ******* vermin,
Feasting on your soul like rats on rotten vermin.

Brains ****** to pulp, hollow shells, ******* horde,
Humans? **** no — just monsters, traitor ****, warlords.
Crush the plague of idiots, deaf to truth’s brutal thunder,
Burn their fake gods, drown their lies in blood and blunder.

This world’s a hellhole, vipers crawl, fangs dripping venom,
Fascist rats gnaw bones, bathed in lies’ black phlegm.
No mercy, no pity — torch their pigsty lairs,
Cremate their *******, poison traps and devil’s snares.

Keep your mind pure — spit on their putrid grip,
Reject their filth, sludge, their twisted ******* script.
This world’s a warzone, soaked in blood, ****, and hate,
But your soul’s a razor — slash through every plague.

Stand fierce, stand tall — never kneel to lies,
Let hatred be the fire that burns and never dies.
This fight is ours — purge this cursed ground,
Strike hard, strike fast — leave no demon around.

See through their masks — beasts in human skin,
Corrupted, broken, slaves to endless sin.
Rise like a hammer, smash their filthy throne,
Claim your spirit back — make this hell your own.




---------------------



Keep Your Mind Pure — No *******, No Mercy

Keep your mind pure — purge the ******* lies,
This world’s a sewer of filth and devil’s cries.
No saints, just cockroaches crawling in your brain,
******* parasites choking out your sane.

Brains smashed like skulls beneath iron boots,
Humanity lost — only twisted brutes.
Idiots drowning in fake gods’ blood and slime,
Crack their bones, torch their cults — end their crime.

This fascist shitpit reeks of death and rot,
Rats gnaw flesh, spit venom, tie your soul in knots.
No mercy for vermin, no pity for the weak,
Burn their lies to ashes, let the witches shriek.

Keep your mind pure — spit in their rotten face,
Reject their fake gospel, their poisoned disgrace.
This world’s a slaughterhouse dripping with pain,
But your spirit’s a blade slicing through the stain.

Stand fierce, stand tall — crush their blasphemous reign,
Let your rage be wildfire, let it drown the insane.
Fight hard, strike brutal — tear down every throne,
Grind these demons to dust, claim the fight your own.

See through their masks — devils dressed as men,
Broken, corrupted — slaves to hell’s cruel pen.
Rise like a bomb, explode their vile lair,
Rip your soul free from this endless nightmare.

Hold fast, no surrender, no ******* lies,
This war is real — no place for disguise.
Keep your mind pure — the last light in the dark,
Ignite the fury — become the final spark.



---------------------



Mind Pure. Lies Burned.
Vermin Crushed. No Mercy Given.
Fight Hard. Strike Brutal.
Be The Final Spark.
Losses

The Master turned into a hoarder,
His mind went numb, his flame grew cold.
No Method left — just fraud and order,
Just tricks and lies, and chasing gold.

Recall Osho — that shameful setting,
A cult in orange, bought and sold —
Decay and power-games upsetting
The soul. The loss is manifold.




---------------------



"Properly Raised"

"Properly raised" —
That’s the liar’s domain.
He walks the worn ways
Of the well-trained insane.

"Don’t touch me — I follow,
Obey and submit,
Preserve the skin hollow,
As Judas sees fit."




---------------------



Refinements

The poet's fall — disgrace or grace?
How many songs just fade, repressed?
Don’t chase the crowd, don’t beg for place —
Fame’s not for truth. It’s for the rest.

Just write — let rhythm, rhyme, and sense
Be all that guide your inner light.
The mob is stuck in excrement —
And that’s the path to fake delight.

Refinements, polish, all that sweat
To please the herd? Then go ahead —
To beggar’s fate, to quick regret:
Be “one with them” — be one with dead.




---------------------




The Waitling

We all know Dumbo. Still, no name
For Waitling — though he’s just as real.
A cousin trapped inside the game,
Believing blindly in the spiel.

The tale makes no **** sense, of course —
Just pain and punches, pure paradox.
But Dumbo shrugs: "It's fate, of course,"
Then goes and asks the same old box.

Now with degrees, our Dumbo's grand —
He'll lecture you with deadpan grace:
"It’s not a tale, it’s all been planned —
Each man must suffer for The Ace!"

But peace won’t come. There’s no reset.
The Ace ahead? That’s pure *****.
And you must bleed without regret —
That’s what these holy dumbfucks are.



---------------------



Like "a Movie" — or the Overton Collapse

******* spreads — "Let's shift the norm!"
A breed is shaped to just obey,
To nod at every creeping form
Of filth parading as “the way.”

The cult of Tolerance gone mad,
Where limits melt and lies explode.
The beasts feel righteous as they add
New chains to drag us down their road.

“Obey. Be scared. Join in the mess.”
The cracks expand with practiced care.
The Overton parade undress
The soul — till rot is everywhere.

So Spirit, Conscience, get betrayed
In staged illusions, twisted games —
They die in silence, disarrayed,
In slime beneath the shifting frames.




---------------------



They shift the frame, and filth breaks through —
Obey or rot. It’s up to you.



---------------------



They twist the frame to **** your Light —
Stand up, or lose the inner fight.



---------------------



The lie expands — the soul must kneel?
Not mine. My Spirit doesn’t yield.




---------------------



Metamorphosis of Evil

Only Evil can bring Evil down —
Not sweet lullabies, not a tear.
To burn it out, you need the crown
Of Fire and Light — not mere cheer.

It takes fierce thought to see the whole,
To plan, to strike — and not forgive.
But if the Light prevails in soul,
Then on the ash it learns to live.



---------------------



Not hugs — but fire burns it through.
Let Light decide what next to do.



---------------------



Evil falls when fire is true.
Then Light begins — but after rue.



---------------------



The Poet, Critic, and the Artist

“You need not be a poet — true —
But be a model citizen!”
So rot in soul and mind will brew,
Obeying orders now and then.

The Order comes — from beasts who lie,
Wrapped up in “good” for all mankind.
That lie inside begins to multiply
With fear they plant into your mind.

Then doors swing wide, and tyranny
Storms in — a bull in fragile ware.
The cause? Dumb fear and apathy,
A noose that chokes but hides as care.

Be just a poet — shine your Light
In all this wretched world of grime.
Or be a critic — fight the fight,
Crush lies and don’t accept a dime.




---------------------



Fascism’s *******

Fascism’s just a senseless **** —
It always misses every mark.
The fault? A brainless, stupid curse,
Belief in lies the beasts rehearse.

A dunce might make a decent grunt,
But mastermind? That nasty brute
Is buried deep in snowlike blunts —
His brain a tangle, weak and mute.

His aim is blurred, his methods limp,
And fascism will turn to dust —
If fascists lack the brains to think,
Their ruin’s certain, cold and just.

The ashes scatter — fresh ones rise.
We’re stuck inside this Hellish spin.
Descent’s the theme, no sweet surprise —
In Hell, the fall’s the only win.



---------------------



Consumervore

"Not enough! Give me some more!" —
The beast of greed grows wild and fast.
While Spirit’s layer thins and poor,
And Mind stays silent, mouthfuls vast.

Feeding on lies, repeat the crap,
The idiot won't see decay,
Nor grasp the price that comes in wrap —
The final toll that takes away.



---------------------



Feed the beast — it never’s fed.
Spirit dies while lies are spread.



---------------------



Greed devours the mind’s last thread.
Rot ahead — the soul’s been bled.



---------------------


So-Called "Progress"

Decay is growing, fear’s in bloom —
The house is full of creeping lies.
Total falsehood seals the doom,
Reducing all to cattle’s cries.

Lie plus fear — no better way
To drag the masses down, depressed.
The beasts obey the dark array —
To live as beasts, or as the rest.

Now beasts prevail, that’s progress here,
While humans drown in falsehood’s sea.
Hell’s crushing press draws ever near —
And only **** remain to be.

No joke, no tales, no silly game —
They make us all the beasts we claim.



---------------------



****** Zombie Box

Live on air — from lies comes kefir,
Fermented in this poisoned brew.
A broken world, where satyrs sneer,
Spreading Darkness, fascism too.

CowID’s mess — blood’s filthy stain!
War unleashed with awful ease.
Lies stir fools to **** again,
Fuel the rage and break the peace.

Just a lie — the only change —
Fools obey the savage call.
Drive the *******, insane range —
A mindless pawn will **** his all.



---------------------



Lies brew war — fools heed the call,
Mindless slaves will **** us all.


---------------------



Broadcast lies, ignite the hate,
Zombies march to doom and fate.



---------------------



Cheburek from Cheburashka

Cheburek made from Cheburashka —
That’s the latest “film” they sell:
Freaks strike hard, no miss, no flash,
Dragging people straight to Hell.

Newsfeed first, then movie show —
Dumbing down in perfect rows.
Add the “school,” they bind the herd —
Poison served with every word.

Into Cheburek’s cursed mix
They now add a darker fix.
Herd’s out — now bugs will crawl instead,
Exterminate what’s left, they said.

Easier than sheep who buy
The CowID’s sick lie.
Everywhere the genocide,
This film’s just shame and ash — denied.




---------------------



Dehumanization

Beasts drown in a sea of lies—
Where is man?
Is justice dead?
No. The age is banned.

Quiet genocide—
No punishment here.
The wise grow bored—
It’s madness severe.

From despair,
One might just die.
This hellish state,
Too grim to deny.

Beasts in the lying sea—
Count the wise few.
Faces of Satan,
Forget honor too.

Conscience and mercy—
The world’s end is near.
Lies, numbness, fear,
And stench—the final frontier.



---------------------


The Gift of Doubt

The gift of doubt—a higher gift,
Though softer still its silent lift.
Around, the zombified abide,
Judas fools who meekly hide.

And where, for those with gifted minds,
Among the shadows, lies, and blinds—
Total lies, fascist disease,
Idiot fools who barely seize?

Step boldly inward—only there
Will doubt’s true power clear the air.
Not vanity you'll strengthen then,
But break the lies and save your ken.



---------------------



The Gift of Doubt

Doubt’s a gift from heights above,
Whispered soft, but forged in love.
Zombies roam, and Judas’ ****,
Crawling, blind, and beating drum.

Where for minds that break the chains
Of total lies and fascist pains—
Idiots numb and fascist drones,
Trapped inside their plastic zones.

Push inside—face doubt’s fierce fire,
Shatter lies, burn false desire.
Not your ego’s hollow shield—
But your soul that fights, won’t yield.



---------------------


The Gift of Doubt

Doubt’s no sweet, soft lullaby —
It’s fire blazing in the sky.
Zombies crawl, and Judas’ spawn,
Filth that serves the devil’s dawn.

Where the gifted dare to fight
In the maze of lies and blight—
Fascists, idiots, their slaves,
Trapped inside their shallow graves.

Throw away your coward’s mask!
Doubt will tear their poison’s task.
Not your ego’s weak defense—
But your soul’s fierce reckoning, tense.

Fight the rot, destroy the lies,
Raise your spirit, make it rise!
Only through this brutal test
Can you save what’s still expressed.




---------------------



The Gift of Doubt

Doubt means little if your mind
Is a mess, confused, confined —
To dig deep here in this Hell,
Not just shrug and nod, but dwell.

Here you’re just a clueless pawn:
Breed and trust, keep chomping on,
Feeding evil, making strong
What will break you all along.

Doubt you guard with clear-cut thought —
Saving souls too oft forgot
In this Hell of half-wits’ reign,
Clutching skins and fear of pain.

They’ll survive, but copies spawn,
Generation after dawn,
Bowing low before the Dark,
Feeding beasts who leave their mark.



---------------------



Odes and Sickly Sweet

The text demands its context tight.
When all around’s a Hellish night,
The beast who writes those odes in sight —
Is traitor, freak, corrupt blight.

A dark delusion, idiots rife,
In this thick fog, they breed like strife.
If you write for ****’s delight,
You’re not just dirt — you feed the blight.

The Spirit’s people fade and fall,
Yet all we hear is siren’s call.
The media’s cruel goal is clear:
To drown out truth, choke every ear.

These fiends have mastered lies with ease,
With “cheerful” masks that aim to please—
A madhouse full of forced delight,
Where madness dances day and night.

But soon this circus will collapse,
Discarded with those selling traps—
Their “cheer” and odes, their hollow style,
Will vanish in the flame’s cold pile.




---------------------



Odes and Sickly Sweet Lies

The text demands a brutal frame—
When Hell itself surrounds the game,
The filthy beast who pens those odes
Is enemy, freak, sold-out toads.

A nightmare fog, morons abound,
In this **** swamp, they breed and drown.
Write for these vermin? You’re not just ****—
You’re traitor ****, a plague that’s lit.

The Spirit dies, crushed in the dirt,
While all we get’s a screeching hurt.
Media vultures choke the air,
To silence truth, spread poison there.

These fiends perfected lies so slick,
With fake “cheer” to numb and trick—
A madhouse thriving on deceit,
Where madness grins, a sickening feat.

But soon the whole **** circus falls,
With sellout snakes behind its walls.
Their fake “joy” and sickly songs—
Reduced to ashes where they belong.




---------------------



Don’t Cross the Line!

Face Death alone—
Only Death be trusted.
The moment of dying weighs the whole,
If you serve Lies, hardened and rusted—
Then Satan is your king and god.

If with your last
You fought to create—
You’ll see the Light
At misfortune’s gate.

And only Death
Reflects it all:
Here’s a maze of shadows,
A devil’s call.
Rot has gnawed
What’s left inside.

Hold your line,
Don’t slip and slide:
A fall to Hell—
The fate of the vile.

The soul will see
That boundary clear.
No mind can grasp it—
That’s why you fear.



---------------------



Abomination

Water spirits, forest fiends — just myths and lies,
But worse than fairy tales where nightmare lies.
Monsters ruling humans through their wicked schemes,
Spreading vile chaos, shattering dreams.

These SNAKES hide in shadows, their hands drip with crime,
Using fools as weapons, broken fools in time—
Who sold out their homeland, their mind and their pride,
Turned into beasts, and forever died.

This filthy ****, this traitor’s breed, will fall,
No soul remains—they crawl like fleas on all.
And that loud-mouth ****, a robber and a clown,
Is just a child before them—pathetic, broken down.




---------------------



"The Right to Speak"

No shout returns,
No echo burns...
Will you just bow,
Refuse to fight somehow?
Pure *******, see!
A voice in emptiness—
The right to speak
Now cleaves no less...




---------------------



"The Right to Speak"

No cry will answer,
No sound will stir...
Just bow your head,
Don’t fight, stay dead?
*******, pure and cold!
A voice lost in the void—
The right to speak
By tyrants toyed.




---------------------



Atomic Nature of Society

The devil hides within the details:
This world’s “atomic” — split and torn,
An ego cycle, doomed to wail,
In shattered joys, alone, forlorn.

Division cuts so deep and wide —
What’s left to split? Just fragments small.
“Atomic” breakdowns multiply,
**** every soul — alone they fall.

**** them with lies, with fear’s tight grip,
If you’re enlisted in that horde.
“Atomic dust” slips through your grip,
Control is easy—nothing more.

The devil lurks within the cracks.
Fake science drowns inside the lies.
The forecast? Fatal — nothing lacks:
A “scholar” now is just disguised.




---------------------



Atomic Society

The devil’s in the tiny cracks:
This world is broken, split, and torn.
Ego spins in endless tracks,
In hollow joys, alone, forlorn.

Divide to **** — that’s all they do.
“Atomic dust” makes slaves obey.
Lie and scare — it’s nothing new,
Easy to control the prey.

The devil thrives in details small.
Fake science sinks, the fools comply.
The end is near — the final call:
A scholar’s just a madman’s lie.




---------------------



No Holds

To step in Poetry — like boarding Titanic,
Last-minute ticket — the plunge is frantic.
The world’s soon doomed to Hell’s abyss,
No need for verse if life’s amiss.

The weak just swallow fairy tales,
Want sugar-coated, safe details.
To write true lines feels wasted, blind —
But if it’s yours, don’t fall behind.

Time’s running out — no time to slack,
Push forward hard, no turning back.
So much lost work, all turned to dust,
The world will end — in lies and rust.

To join Art’s ship? — the doors are closed,
No seats remain, it’s all imposed.
Only fools soothe feelings cheap,
Chasing dreams that poison, creep.

Let Poetry flood your veins,
No matter what the cost or pains.
Write raw, unchained — your mind’s delight,
A fierce balm for soul and fight.




---------------------



"Land of Advice"

Giving tips
To those deranged —
A pointless grind,
No sense arranged.
Just drop it —
It’s not your fight,
To step once more
On nonsense’s spite.

Results are nil,
Problems weigh tons,
Advice to fools —
Lost battles, none.



---------------------



False Faiths, or Simple Fear Exploitation

If cheap deceit on death’s dark fear
Didn’t bait the fools so near,
Even sheep would shut their ears —
But soul-trappers thrive on tears.

They sell you life beyond the grave,
Rules and sludge to keep you slave.
In the valley chains grow tight —
Stupid logs believe in fright.




---------------------



False Gods and Fearmongers

Cheap lies feed on death’s dark dread —
Even sheep would close their heads.
But scavengers of broken souls
Trap the weak in filthy roles.

They sell you "life" beyond the grave,
Chains of sludge to make you slave.
In that pit, the dumb remain —
Faith in fear, their only chain.




---------------------



False Religions, or Cheap Fear Exploitation

Don’t let cheap conmen feed your death-freak fears,
Even dumb-*** sheep wouldn’t lend their ears.
Soul-**** creeps hunting scraps from weak and small,
Selling “immortality” — a ******* stall.

Their sludge and rules just chain you to the pit,
Slavery in the Valley, where the fools all sit.
They worship fear, these worthless **** and clods,
Feeding lies, enslaving minds, betraying gods.




---------------------



“Rare Bird Flies to Mid-Dnipro,” or About My Book

A rare bird flies
To mid-Dnipro’s flow;
Not fool enough
To miss the whole.
No cause to stay
In depths of lies —
Fight falsehood’s sway,
And dare to rise!

Creation’s sword,
A battle’s light,
Song’s final chord —
Man dies upright.




---------------------



False Religions

Dogma’s twisted games
Grow mossy lies,
Like a crude enema—
Clogs up your mind.

You’ll be a fool
If you buy their trash.
Trust only your soul—
In lies, you won’t crash.



---------------------



Dreams and Fables

Dreams and fables —
“Consciousness” defined.
“Life” just follows
The script assigned.

Only few have
Passed beyond the show.
But the “fairy tale” marches —
Forward! — into the void below!




---------------------



Dreams and Fables

Dreams and lies, the mind’s dead cage,
“Consciousness” just a staged-up rage.
Life’s a puppet, strings controlled,
Reality a script they sold.

Few break free from this sick farce,
While the herd just marches sparse —
Straight to nothing, blind and dumb,
Into void where all is numb.




---------------------



Dreams and Fables

Dreams and lies, the mind’s own jail,
“Consciousness” — a poisoned tale.
Life’s a scripted, sick façade,
Truth’s drowned out by endless fraud.

Only few escape the shame,
Most stay locked inside the game.
Chasing ghosts to empty hell,
Doomed to rot inside their shell.




---------------------



Dreams and Fairy Tales

Dreams and fairy tales — the mind’s cruel joke,
“Consciousness” trapped in a scripted smoke.
Life’s a puppet show, a sick parade,
Reality’s just a masquerade.

Only few break free, cut through the lies,
While fools still chase their hollow skies.
That “fairy tale” drags on — a deadly pit,
Marching forward… into endless ****.




---------------------


Sort of "Virusology"

Charlatans with glib verbosity
Preach their viral fantasy —
Pathetic-minded monstrosity,
Pure and plain obscenity.

Poison cells and claim “infection,”
Babble nonsense, smug and loud —
This is death for real detection,
Science buried in a shroud.

No control tests — that’s their fashion.
****, it’s rotten to the core!
Slaves in lab coats, stripped of passion,
Arrogant, corrupt, and sore.

Lanka ran the proper trial,
Crushed their garbage, proved it fake —
Where’s the press? A deep denial.
Silence. Bought. For profit's sake.

This alone condemns completely
All satanic, vile deceit.
Silent now? Then watch them neatly
Shove more "virus" up your seat.




---------------------



1.
No control, no truth — just lies,
And "the virus" multiplies.

2.
Fake the test — then sell the cure,
Science ***** to serve the lure.

3.
They poison cells, then preach decay —
Hell applauds. Truth walks away.

4.
No trials. No press. Just dread.
Their virus lives — in your head.




---------------------



An Integrated Mind

The integrated mind —
Where feelings have no reign.
Intuition leads the climb,
Thoughts rise in her domain.

And reason, once the throne
Of logic cold and grand,
Now serves the soul alone,
Obeying her command.

But note — it’s Spirit’s light
That rules through soul’s pure flame.
True vision isn’t sight —
And “hearing” bears no name,

But turns the ear within.
Just listen to the Soul —
For only she can spin
The thread that makes you whole.



---------------------




1.
True thought begins when reason kneels
And Soul alone interprets feels.

2.
The mind ascends when heart is still,
And Spirit bends the thought to will.

3.
Not eyes, but Soul begins to see —
And logic serves in mystery.

4.
Hear not the noise — go deep inside.
The Soul is where the truths reside.




---------------------



Animal Farm Rebooted

Yee-haw! Go herd your filthy swine,
Feed *****, sheep — and drug them blind.
Pour poison into every trough,
Then set the goats to rule the kind.

Let ******* crush the keen and quick,
Fulfill their quotas, pound the weak,
Install a reign of fear and chains —
Let cattle tremble when they speak.

Then shoot them up with branded brew,
And test the yield, assess the loss.
Then wipe the yard and start anew —
A fresh injection. Same old boss.




---------------------



They shot the herd to test control,
Then changed the drug — not the role.



---------------------



1.
They drug the herd, reset the pen —
Then do it all again... again.

2.
The goat’s in charge, the pigs applaud —
Obedience becomes their god.

3.
New poison, same deceitful creed —
Just different needles for the feed.

4.
They rule with fear and branded lies —
And call it care while livestock dies.




---------------------



Attack!

The ***** horde begins to charge —
Just feed them lies, it’s not that hard.
A Führer-spawned deceitful farce
Now sends them dying by the yard.

For ******* smeared across their brains,
They march — obedient and proud.
While puppet-masters count the gains
And plan to thin the herd out loud.

The liars' tools obey with glee,
They’ll **** or die without a thought.
A single lie is tyranny —
And that's the only thing they’re taught.

They trust, comply, repeat the plot,
Like CowID — the grand parade.
The mind dissolves. The soul is not.
And Spirit’s fire… begins to fade.




---------------------



Burn the mind and blind the eyes —
Then rule the herd with sacred lies.



---------------------



Simplicity and Peace

The poet’s life is plain —
As long as songs remain.
But once the song is done,
Die calmly, fearing none.



---------------------



1.
He sang — then met the end.
No fear. No need to bend.

2.
The song complete — the soul released,
He faced the dark in quiet peace.

3.
No crown, no chains, no fight —
Just silence. And the night.




---------------------



Non-Action

"The pleasure of having is not worth the pain of getting."
— Jean-Jacques Rousseau



To have — that pleasure fools pursue,
And chase until their days are through.
Like squirrels trapped in spinning wheels,
They never grasp what silence feels —

Not till death begins to near.
Measure life by what stays clear:
By non-action, deep and true —
If knowledge is your guide and shield from lies and rue.




---------------------



To have is never worth the fight —
Know stillness. That alone is light.



---------------------



Armageddon

Walk ecstatic, sharp, and clear —
Cast away the lies and fear.
Things are dire, truth is thin —
So let intuition in.

Fascist waves and mass disease,
Genocides in white IDs.
Morons rule in every zone —
See through Spirit’s prism stone.

Molded thoughts are dead and gone.
And when flames of war are on,
When the world is torn and split —
Purge the fear. Don't bow. Commit.

Face the horror, bold and bright,
Though it cycles, masks as right.
This disgrace repeats again —
Here, “the god” is Satan’s name.



---------------------



Satan wears the godly cloak —
Spits out death and calls it hope.
If you see — then stand and burn.
This dark cycle must not turn.




---------------------



The Finish

To coast “on autopilot” down,
Till all your troubles wear and drown —
And break apart at finish line,
No torment left, no harsh design.



---------------------


The Finish

Coast easy, no more fight,
Crash at end — no fear, no plight.




---------------------



1.
Glide to end without a scream —
No more battles, just a dream.

2.
Drift and break with quiet grace —
No regrets to trace.

3.
Finish line — no fight, no cries,
Just the calm of last goodbyes.



---------------------



A Dog’s Life

Like dogs who wag their tails in line,
Ready to serve each harsh command,
You’ll find a “heaven” so divine —
Where “Fetch!” becomes the master’s brand.

That worship soon will be your fate,
A final day of dark control.
When evil claims the bowing state —
And bends the spirit, breaks the soul.



---------------------



A Dog’s Life

Wag your tail and obey the call —
Bow to evil, lose it all.



---------------------



Alienation

Unyielding stance, estranged from all,
To Pure alone you heed the call:
A spotless world — or play the fool,
No middle ground, no easy rule.

Only creation’s sacred fire
Surpasses mere desire.
Take up that path — the price is grave:
Alive in grave, none can save.

The dead surround, infest the scene,
Submit — and you become obscene.
Cast off the lies, walk deep within,
To Light the only way to win.

Light’s inside, not out in sight.
To grasp this truth, endure the fight —
You must be born for such a plight:
Reborn in Hell’s mad endless night.




---------------------



Alienation

Stand alone — embrace the pure.
Or be fooled, lost and obscure.

---

Creation’s path means living death —
Alive in grave, betrayed by breath.

---

Dead surround, obey — you’re ****.
Truth is light — no place for some.

---

Born for madness, hell inside,
Only fools run from that ride.




---------------------



Twist and Crush!

Twist always, twist everywhere,
Spread fear and lies, poison the air.
Keep slaves tight, the leash is thin —
No struggle here, just cheat and win.

Lie thrice over, cage the sharp,
Strike the weak, tear them apart.
Divide and conquer — that’s the art,
Torture fear, not pain, to start.

Embrace the world with choking dread,
Turn all to dust where fear has spread.
When all believe and run in fright —
Control is gained, it’s just that slight.




---------------------



Twist and Crush

Twist, twist, tighten every chain,
Feed the fear, spread lies like rain.

---

Divide the sharp, enslave the weak,
Torture minds — no pain to seek.

---

Fear controls the world, that’s how—
They obey, they break, they bow.
A Comic Come to Life

The cartoons came alive — grotesque!
For humans are long since dead.
Forget your "culture" pretext —
It rots from the top instead.

Not life, just a filthy comic,
No truth — just a stream of lies.
And soon comes a new demonic
Remix that will paralyze...





---------------------



Grotesque parade — the truth is gone.
The comic reigns. Humanity’s done.



---------------------



Delirium of Greed

Stupidity, greed — the same old curse,
The root of all rot, for better or worse.
Greed and stupidity, both in control —
Look anywhere, it’s swallowing whole.

Brainless beasts, diseased with desire,
Drag us all down in their muck and mire.
Because of those creatures, we’re doomed to fade —
The world is lost in greed’s charade.




---------------------



Greed-struck fools — they **** and feed.
This world’s a madhouse ruled by greed.




---------------------



Ruins

A tender flower —
So frail, so slight.
The **** gains power —
It clings, it fights.

And so with reason —
Crushed by the fool.
Each age, each season —
Dumbness rules.

The stages ended,
The lies increased.
No homeland’s splendid —
Just ruins of deceit.




---------------------



No truth, no ground — just twisted lies.
A world of ruins, where reason dies.



---------------------



Red Cross and Crimson Rage

A vivid mask of evil’s face —
That’s what communism is.
It scorches all with lies and grace —
The modern fascist biz.

It’s global now. The dim and blind
March gladly in the same old trap.
They babble, “Peace for humankind!” —
But serve a soulless, heartless crap.

They build the Camp — a grand parade
Of lies that twist and multiply.
The Red Cross on a banner laid
Feels like blood flung in the sky...



---------------------



Red flags wave — the lie persists.
Behind the cross — a fascist fist.




---------------------



Don’t Obey!!!

Stop! Down!
You clown...
Cop’s joke —
You choke.

**** the BEASTS —
Lies scream,
Burning truth
To extreme.



---------------------



Obey the lie — you die inside.
Rise now — or be crucified.



---------------------



The Verdict

A crazed slave weakens fast,
Hoarding lies that never last.
Not a life — a botched disguise,
The master feeds on twisted lies.

He lies and seals their doom,
But soon he'll fall — a wicked tomb.
For stench and shame, the final prism —
Cataclysm! Down with fascism!




---------------------



Slave decays, the master lies.
Cataclysm kills — fascism dies.




---------------------



Inheritance

There’s nothing in this world, I bet,
Worth clutching tight beyond regret.
The whole world’s just a wild, insane
Delusion pioneers maintain.

This aging scout drags that disease,
Taught since youth with false beliefs.
He knows not that he spreads the curse—
This madness passed from worse to worse.

Dad and mom — pathetic slaves,
Teacher serves fascism’s waves.
Few can dodge the fate that thrives:
Half-wit lost in idiot drives.



---------------------



Madness passed from hand to hand,
Slaves and fools rule all the land.



---------------------



Dead Stereotypes and Controlled Emotions

Dead stereotypes
Are stabbed in you from youth.
Satan’s archetypes —
To smother the Fire’s truth.

Reason locked tight, emotions roar,
Monsters steer you like a chart.
Destination’s "******’s Shore" —
Where madness tears you apart.

So burn it all! No more fools
In this madhouse of despair.
Stop serving twisted tools —
Torturing your soul bare.

This Fire from your very core
Will burn the lies away.
Stop guarding your fragile shell —
Throw it to Vision’s flame today.

This Vision is direct —
No alien interest stains.
Stereotypes distort, infect —
Pressing lies and selfish gains.



---------------------



Stereotypes **** —
Emotions controlled.
Burn the lies —
Free your soul!



---------------------



Chains of lies, emotions bound,
Break the cage — burn it down!



---------------------



Dead minds locked in stale clichés,
Puppets dance in scripted plays.
Emotions tamed — a circus farce,
Burn the stage, break every farce!



---------------------



Brains on leash, trapped in the old,
Dead clichés bought and sold.
Feelings clipped, minds confined —
Burn their lies, break the grind!



---------------------



Fools repeat the same dull song,
Living lies they’ve bought so long.
Tamed emotions, puppets’ show —
Set it all ablaze and go!



---------------------



USSR 2.0

Dedicated to Tatyana, artist from Mariupol.

Free us, former motherland,
From crumbling homes and broken lives.
There dwells a fascist’s twisted hand,
Spreading stench and wails that rise.

They shoot at civilians with skill —
The Germans once, now worse, it seems.
Grandfather won, but now there’s ill,
Madness reigns with war’s false dreams.

Mariupol lies crushed and torn,
Rashists killed the peaceful souls.
On roads, machine guns fiercely sworn —
Where children live, the bullets roll.

That car’s the foremost, hated prize:
Mariupol’s own stand and say,
Is that a homeland, cold with eyes,
That spits on old and young each day?!




---------------------



Mariupol burns, the fascists ****,
Old ghosts rise — the nightmare’s real.



---------------------



Apart

Ukrainians aren’t old Soviet clay,
And mostly so it’s been, they say.
In USSR, a Rovno aunt
Showed me, despite the harshest taunt—

Through genocide and dumbed-down mind,
The Spirit of Freedom they could find.
Crimes of Soviets or Rashka’s stain
Can’t wash away that lasting pain.

With Rashka — apart! It’s no true land!
The path goes on, blood pays the hand.
Coward patience — cow dung’s throne —
Amid “leaders,” filth is sown.




---------------------



Not Soviets, not the same,
Ukraine burns, breaks the chain.
Rashka’s lies can’t claim their soul —
Freedom’s fire makes them whole.



---------------------



Overload of Filth and Trash

Through the world of fascist slime,
Hold your nose and walk on by.
Media wounds the soul each time,
Sending reason up to cry.

Don’t get caught — in this foul place
Nothing’s worth the fight or fuss.
Not a world — a cesspool space,
Rotting midst the lies’ assault.

Everywhere the lies run wild,
Fascist filth — the core, the goal:
Two-in-one, a toxic pile —
Overflow, down to the hole!



---------------------



Fascist slime, lies that burn,
Nose held tight — no return.
Filth and trash, the stinking show —
Flush it fast, let hatred grow!



---------------------


All “By Accident”...

Black on gray — they smear the world, no doubt,
A madhouse scene in shades of drought.
Lies march loud, a stench in air,
Breeding fear and deep despair.

This mad “art” — where monsters feed,
Fools and crazies grow like weeds.
Selection’s task — foul undead,
All glossed over — “just by chance,” they said.




---------------------



Black on gray, lies spread and play,
Madness grows in cold decay.
Fools and fiends in breeding fields —
All “just by chance,” the darkness yields.



---------------------



Black smeared lies choke out the light,
Madmen rule this endless night.
Fools and fiends bred to betray —
“Just by chance”? Hell no, it’s their way.



---------------------



Black lies slash across the sky,
Madness laughs while millions die.
Fools and fiends, a cursed breed —
“Just by chance”? Hell no — they feed!



---------------------



Black lies spit and choke the light,
Madmen laugh in endless night.
Fools and fiends breed pain and greed —
“No accident!” — they plant the seed!



---------------------



Black on gray, a poisoned stain,
Lies that bind and break the brain.
Madness rules this cursed play,
Fools and fiends lead minds astray.

No “accident” in this dark game,
It’s planned destruction, filth, and shame.
Rise and roar — don’t bow or fall,
This is the nightmare — break the wall!



---------------------



Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!



---------------------



Variant +

Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!

Break the silence, break the cage,
Tear the darkness from the page.
From the ashes, fire will roar —
Freedom’s cry forevermore!




---------------------



The collective P*ss—
A vile fascist clique.
If you trust their lies—
They’ll shove a plug so thick,

Right into your brain,
Till nothing’s left to find.
But the ***** doesn’t care—
Feasts, bribes— all aligned.




---------------------



One’s Cap Fits One’s Head

To break free from poems’ chains,
And die with honor down in Hell—
A cesspool where the fool remains,
Betrayers stuck in vile shell.

In Hell, the traitors crowd in swarms,
More broken **** than one can name.
Here Mind’s extinction’s lost its norms—
A sport that burns a thinning flame.

The clever layer melts away,
Like snowflakes high on mountain crest.
But does the fool here rule the day?
No—he’s a slave, and capped the rest.




---------------------



The Table and the Ox

All walk beneath the table’s weight,
But it’s a vast infernal slab.
From that ****** board escape so late—
Just few, while crowds remain the drab.

Huge undergrowth of mind and soul—
An ox, mere food for demon fiends.
They lie, relentless, play their role—
Too few ideas on their screens.

Ideas breed silent submission,
As “virtue” taught to oxen blind,
To ease the soul’s slow demolition—
For this, all lies they’ve designed.




---------------------



The Painting’s Idea

A canvas split in two, its claim:
Half flowers bloom, half fade away.
An allegory—war’s dark flame,
The shadow lurking, foe’s display.




---------------------



The Bottom

Pathetic spaces —
Worlds of hellish lies,
Darkness filled with crudeness,
Where fools herd and rise.

Thousands of warped mirrors —
Where “top” means the very base.
This is the Bottom, pure and clear —
Fear, filth, fascist disgrace.




---------------------



The Bottom

Pathetic voids — hell’s own lies,
Darkness thick with spite and scorn.
Fools parade in blind disguise,
Lost, deranged, and truly torn.

Thousands of cracked mirrors glare,
Where the “top” sinks to the pit.
This is Bottom — foul despair,
Fear and fascists tightly knit.



---------------------



The Bottom

Pathetic voids, hell’s foul lies,
Darkness thick with spite and hate.
Fools run wild, their blind disguise —
Lost in madness, cursed by fate.

Cracked mirrors crush all hope and light,
Where “the top” is just the pit.
This is bottom — foul, black night,
Fear and fascism tightly knit.



---------------------



The Bottom

Hell’s lies breed fools and ****,
Darkness rules, no hope to come.
Mirrors cracked — all truth denied,
Fascist filth, the darkest tide!



---------------------



Crimes of Rashism

Seventy thousand crimes revealed,
By Ukraine’s courts, the truth is sealed.
Rashka’s steeped in idiocy—
Still fights NATO relentlessly.

Kids shot down right in the streets,
Bombs fall ******* crowded sheets.
Yet in that land, the “untouchables” stay—
Guess ***** clouds their minds away...



---------------------



Rashism’s Crimes—No Mercy!

Seventy thousand sins revealed,
Rashka’s curse, its fate is sealed.
Fighting NATO? Pure disgrace—
Children die in ****** chase.

Bombs rain down on homes and hope,
Yet they numb the mind to cope.
Untouchables in drunk parade—
Souls are crushed, but lies stay made!




---------------------



On the Decline

The work is done —
Hello, Death, come on!
In the madhouse of fools,
A dull, dark, rotten song.

That role’s not mine to play.
So then, let’s march ahead!
A new hell for the freaks?
No matter where I’m led.

This world is on its fall—
And soon, all will descend:
While here you only feast,
The end’s a curse to send.




---------------------



Barren Flood

A flood of feelings, wild emotions flow,
While scraps of reason yield a barren show.
These barren souls, like addicts, crave the high —
More waves of feelings, screens that multiply.

Lies surge and crash on every distant shore,
Drowning truth, invading every door.
When lies ride high on waves of raw emotion,
They shove deceit through minds of poor devotion.




---------------------



Every Little Drop Dreams to Be a Big Enema

Every little drop since early age
Dreams to become a mighty enema stage.
Become one — feast will never cease,
The stash won’t shrink, just grow with ease.

Those enemas — the propaganda crew,
And all the ranks of officials too.
They drive the Spirit from the herd away,
Fill every fiber with fear’s dark sway.

The politician’s just a toilet seat,
No enema small enough to meet.
A conduit for all nonsense and dread,
Now ushering in fascism’s spread.

Their nonsense and woes, the fiends dispense,
With cruel precision, evil’s pretense.
The Mind is crushed beneath their reign,
And they will pay for every pain.

But soon will burst the Super-Seat —
That world calls home, a cursed seat.
A breeding ground for Evil’s creed —
The fiends will face their final deed.




---------------------



Every Tiny Drop Wants to Be a Big Enema

Every little drop, from childhood’s start,
Dreams to become a piercing dart.
Become that enema — eat like a king,
Never losing, always taking.

Enemas all — the lying breed,
Officials too, the **** we need.
They shove the Spirit out of the herd,
Injecting fear into every nerve.

Politician’s just a filthy throne,
No enema too small to own.
The pipe for all their ******* and pain,
Spreading fascism’s rotten stain.

Their crap and chaos — served on demand,
By inhuman fiends with iron hand.
The Mind they crush, abuse, degrade —
For this, the monsters will be paid.

And soon will blow the Super-Throne,
This hell we call our world, our home.
A hotbed where all evils breed —
These fiends will burn — no mercy freed.




---------------------



Tiny drops crave enema might,
Feeding fear, crushing light.
Politicians — filth and lies,
Super-throne where evil dies.



---------------------



Woodworms

We all are woodworms —
Feasting on the rot,
Leaving after battle’s storm
No wisdom, only blot.

Everywhere’s destruction,
Spirit’s deep despair.
Only decay’s eruption,
Fear and whining there.

But soon the bark of earth
Will sweep us from the scene.
No “paradise” for fools —
To Hell, if you’re obscene.



---------------------


The Burden of False Life

"...to dwell alone,
casting off life’s heavy chain,
holding freedom timeless,
beyond thought’s domain—
to be one with the universe..."
— Jiddu Krishnamurti.


Cast off the burden called "life," —
Learn this art well.
Farewell to mind’s strife —
To another realm, farewell:

Go inward — only there
Will answers arise.
In this world’s cold glare,
You’ll vanish with lies.

Thoughts dissolve, but not the dark —
A “meta-thought” will bloom in light.
Fear not this spark,
The path is right.

Though few have walked this way,
The trail is clear.
To hell with the beasts’ sway,
And sheep in fear.

Fallen low,
“Beyond time” will shift your sight—
Shed false life’s heavy woe,
Escape its prison’s blight.



---------------------



The Burden of False Life

“… to dwell alone,
shed life's **** chain,
own a freedom none can tame —
beyond the mind’s insane domain —
be one with all, release the pain.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti.


Drop that useless burden, "life," —
Stop whining, learn the drill.
Escape the mind’s relentless strife —
To death’s cold void, take the ****:

Dive inside — no lies survive,
Only truth will pierce the veil.
In this shitshow, none stay alive —
All drown in fake tales.

Thought dissolves, but not the dark —
A “meta-thought” cuts through the blight.
Don’t fear the spark,
It’s the rebel’s fight.

Few walk this brutal path,
Most crawl like dumb herds.
To hell with their stupid wrath —
The beasts, the sheep, the turds.

Fallen souls and "beyond time,"
Shift your focus, break the chain.
Rip off false life’s grime,
Escape its filthy reign.




---------------------



They Won’t Have Time...

Armies of clerks, bosses, and drones,
And legions of plankton fools —
They swallow the crap economics owns,
Where rotten lies break all the rules.

Fed with trash that devours earth’s core,
Killing soil just for their greed,
But they miscalculated sore —
The land fights back against their breed.

Idiots feast in endless supply,
Yet worse is planned ahead:
Soulless suckers bred to multiply —
Not humans, lice instead.

The **** rush forward, quick to spawn,
Their poison spreading wide and fast.
But time will cut them down at dawn —
Their reign won’t ever last.




---------------------



The Righteous Cause

Our cause is just and true:
If you stand with us — you’re right.
We march bold through the stew
Of lies that poison sight.

Truth grows only through lies,
In this corrupt, dark place.
The **** speak shameless ties —
The ****** idiot’s face.

That fool will be the end,
The idiot’s final claim.
The world by God’s hand penned,
Left to vile mobs and shame,

Where soullessness is norm,
A flood of cold decay.
To not become that storm —
Fight filth, don’t drift away.




---------------------



Cells

We build our cells,
Just like before —
As fools or beasts,
Caged evermore.
Few others stand,
But truth is grim:
The whole world’s lost,
The light is dim...




---------------------



Rotten Piece

“For me, Buddha who won’t rebel
Is just a rotten piece as well.”
— Osho


Revolt’s last breath—
The end of “life” confined,
False living, weak and sly,
A slave both meek and blind.
No pound you’ll gain,
Health fades away,
This pitiful heap’s a joke at play.

Revolt’s true end
Comes only with Death’s call—
A death that births,
Renewing all.
Outside the Spirit’s front,
Awareness fades to dust,
For Awareness is holy—
All else is just rust...




---------------------



Waste Paper

In the USSR Writers’ Union,
Ten thousand strong, the members spun.


Their “union’s” paper—waste, no more,
All scraps went straight to ads’ great store.
Though writers dreamed of lofty fame,
Their worth was just pulp’s humble name.




---------------------



The Road

The road leads to a pen,
Its gates are fresh and new.
Around, poor cattle strain—
No spirit, no clear view.

No head to think or fight,
Just feeding on the lie,
But drive the blight from sight—
These shells must end and die.

The fate is set and near—
A global cataclysm.
The devils disappear,
Who rule through fascism.




---------------------



The Road

The road leads to the pen,
New gates to trap the herd.
Around—weak cattle, then,
No spirit, just dumb words.

No brains, just mouths to feed,
Swallowing the lies.
Kick out that rotten breed—
Their doom’s no big surprise.

The end is coming fast—
A global cataclysm.
The devils won’t outlast,
Their fascist ego’s schism.




---------------------




Sieve to the New Hell

Hell of wretched fools below,
Born on Earth in vile decay,
Where betrayal’s work will show,
Soon to fade and melt away.

Spirit, shame, and mind, and honor —
Few remain, and always few —
In this world, rotten and somber,
Hard to find a path anew.

Dust returns to dust, entropy
Will level all to void.
Those who are but null and empty —
Through the sieve they will be void.




---------------------



Zen

The nail of anti-faith — true Zen’s pure core,
Now superstition chains fake science’s lore.
Religion’s signs in fake science all dwell,
CowID’s a verdict — a cautionary hell.

Now turned to same old flawed “argument” they claim,
Don’t want to be crushed? Then seize this moment’s flame.
Not just a moment — ETERNITY’s the Zen,
Not fascist chains, but rise again, my friend.




---------------------



Childhood as a Means

Children are the means —
To stretch yourself in time;
To bind a lover’s heart,
Loving only thine;
To flee from Hell —
That Hell’s a Void so vast.
Children seem like joy,
But none escapes the past —

Ambitions live through them:
Joy just for the self.
All these “traditions” lie —
Turning love to stealth,
To herd a flock of fools —
Satan’s shepherd’s breath!

Teach them only chewing
In lies and filth to wade.
And on a global scale —
A cog in the charade:
If you’re just a tool —
Then serving’s all you’ll be,
Childhood’s root of misery,
A cradle of deceit.




---------------------




Childhood as a Weapon

Children are the weapon —
To drag yourself through time,
To chain a lover’s soul,
Self-love’s only crime.
Escape from Hell? —
That Hell is just a Void.
Children, fake as joy,
All meaning’s destroyed.

Ambitions wrapped in lies,
Joy stolen for one’s gain.
“Traditions” all deceit —
Love twisted to pain,
Herding dumbed-down fools —
Satan’s twisted game!

Train ’em just to chew
On lies, on rotten ****.
Globally — a cog,
In a soul-crushing pit:
If you’re just a tool,
Your fate is to serve.
Childhood’s cursed root,
Where lies and madness swerve.




---------------------



The Race

The jockey flies,
The horse it aches.
But all’s fine —
They pile on flakes.

Shot down quick
If sick or lame.
I’m out —
No place in this game.

A race to Hell —
Sadism, dull pain.
The ******* grins —
Rudeness reigns.

All glitter, lies —
"Achievements" sold.
Shackled tight —
The goal’s Hellbound cold.




---------------------



Hellbound Race

The jockey flies — the horse just bleeds,
They cram the feed — fulfill their needs.
Sick or broken? One quick shot —
No mercy here, you’re out, forgot.

A sprint straight down to Hell’s own pit,
Where cruelty and dullness sit.
The ******* cheers, his heart is cold,
Rude brute in power, harsh and bold.

False glimmers, lies — their twisted trophies,
Chains tighten all, no hope, no peace.
They march us all to Hell’s grim gates —
This race to doom, no one escapes.




---------------------



Hell of Idiocy

Slave-born *******,
Of NO land at all —
Lies and old curses,
Meat for the brawl.

Corpses for fascists,
Junk shoved within.
Hell of Idiocy —
Rot and their sin.




---------------------



Poultry Farm

Gone are "the moments wondrous"—
Left are lies, disgrace, and shame:
Mind and Spirit's slow corrosion—
Man here’s almost dead in name.

Dehumanize — then toss them in fire:
A global camp, no less.
If you bow down dumb as a cork,
Your head pays for the mess.

That head’s worth just a penny,
But a ruble costs a hundred.
Billions now like watering cans—
Quick! Chickens for the blender!

And into soup they go—tell fools,
"This meal is meant for you!"
No need for fascist strength to rule—
The mind submits — they’re cooked through!




---------------------



"The Fourth *****"

The "Third World," the "Fourth *****" —
Suddenly, it chose to rise:
A hollow double-talker
Turns neighbors into spies.

This blabber pushes "bonds,"
Orcs driven off to slaughter.
But those will burn down Puppet Pu—
Catch hell in a hot quarter.

That blabber’s Kremlin-crafted,
Original long since dead.
Bold lies by clones — that’s the Fourth *****,
A scoundrel’s crooked thread.

On the final twisting bend—
Russia’s set to spin out wild.
You won’t escape the rotten lies,
Not even "Messiah" styled.

Raving nonsense, ****** calls—
(Most people lost their mind!)
Thinking with their *****, not heads—
Shame’s peak for humankind.



---------------------



"The Fourth *****"

Third World’s gone — the Fourth *****’s here,
Double-talkers stir the fear.
Orcs sent off to die and bleed,
Burn that puppet — hell’s decreed.

Kremlin’s spawn, a lying clown,
Original’s long dead and down.
Clones lie brazen, spit the plague —
Fourth *****’s devil, rotten plague.

Final bend — Russia’s wild,
No escape for broken child.
“Messiah” spews his mad disgrace —
*** over head, humanity’s face.




---------------------



Fourth ***** — No Mercy

Lies breed lies, the puppet’s burned,
Clone hell rising, fools will learn.
"Messiah"’s madness — shameful fall,
*** over head, we lose it all.



---------------------



Fourth ***** — Brutal Truth

Puppet’s ash, the lies explode,
Clone-born beasts in toxic mode.
Madmen lead the blind to hell,
Brains gone dead — a living hell.

"Messiah"’s rant, a cursed scream,
Nation drowning in a scream.
Fools who “think” with ***, not mind —
Bottomless shame, lost mankind.



---------------------



A Cry

Have I a song to sing before the Lord?
I don't care much — I choose a brutal cry
In Wretched Hell, with rotten skulls ignored.
Will that cry ****? Fine — if you just die.

And if you take that Hell — worse than death’s breath,
A cross not just on you, but songs unsung.
The future’s voice will fade to hollow death —
A moan enslaved in digital tongues.




---------------------



The Pit

I'll die beneath some nowhere town,
Dull, orphaned, crushed by extra spite,
As always, patient, beaten down,
Trusting evil, free of fight.

They’ll bury us inside a pit —
All those who’ve reached their deadline’s end.
On zombie screens, the lies will spit —
A flood of falsehoods to defend.




---------------------



The Sump

You’ll be “on top” like stuck in **** —
This world’s a filthy cesspool, true:
The biggest chunks all rise and sit,
While down below the pure stew.

The honest, wise sink to the deep,
But in Hell’s pit, they crown the best.
If you remember soul to keep —
You’ll never rise with all the rest.

— The End —