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atatharion

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(no subject) [Aug. 23rd, 2006|12:25 pm]
atatharion
I begin to suspect the 'Net is more than it appears....that it is an extension into the Earth Plane of the Astral.....that entities native to the Astral have begun to inhabit Cyberspace (much like Gibson's Loa)

It seems to me that there are certain areas of the 'Net where entities of similar natures congregate....that certain servers attract forces that prey on us, and others attract forces that work with us.

It would explain a lot.....how occasionally, one CAN feel a person's energy through IM windows.....and how certain chat rooms and online games become so addictive to the point that lives are destroyed.

I'd be interested to know if anyone else has had similar thoughts on the subject.
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(no subject) [Aug. 21st, 2006|12:31 pm]
atatharion
the wheel turns and ages come and pass, leaving memories that fade to legend. legend becomes myth, and even myth is long forgot when the age that gave it birth returns again...

these legends are still in the making. perhaps our dauntless heroes, blown apart by the winds of time, will find their way back to one another. perhaps they will be disabused of the false notion that they stand on oposite sides.

meanwhile the astral plane stirs: there is a storm coming, an epic battle looming; a new age poised on the cusp of being born of the ashes of the current, which will soon burn.

many who now sleep begin to awaken; those already awake find themselves walking in the dream time, and the borders between the worlds begin to blur....
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(no subject) [Aug. 15th, 2006|01:40 am]
atatharion
Life is a very odd thing.

People talk about love as if it's this amazing thing.....but their actions never live up to their words.

They make promises they never intend on keeping.

Promise to be there for each other, but when the chips are down: poof! Gone.

And it's worse for those who DO live up to their promises: pouring out their hearts, their very lives, only to get fucked over.

I'd love to share my life with someone, but from what I see of people, I don't know that I could ever trust anyone enough to really let them in.

My dear friend thought that this was the one, the lover who'd be there through thick and thin, good and bad, and to all outward appearances, it was a fairly reasonable belief. But no. Infidelity, heartbreak, betrayal. If they couldn't make it work, and theirs was a love that made even a cynic like me consider that hey, maybe love IS a real force....

Blah.
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(no subject) [Aug. 11th, 2006|01:16 am]
atatharion

 

In running through we trip

on these, shoelaces dangling

pretty and flow. They smack of

redemption and we fall  when they pick

us up.

In my mouth there lies a chimera

melancholic. I have not seen it. I know it’s there

and today

he spoke.

she opens her mouth and my tongue finds hers.

they speak, howl and scream. Pain wrack. It’s the hole that finds itself -slips through itself

I hit myself- bruise and cardboard cutout patterns of flowers. Gently burns myself.

I have none in my mouth. I chew on this, my cardboard love and it fucks this in my mouth.

Now  we all are Silence to be killed  by Jesus and his words.

 

 

This is the red. And my blood, it flows through red,

defining self as your anima and pnumena.

Flow. Wind flow

and this is the last breath.

This is the last of life

this is the end of it all

and when we lay on our backs

the sun scorches our vision

then we see cut-outs of the virgins

rolling in ecstatic expectancy.

This is the last of the red

when I poke it through your tight

hole in the sky.

The universe is but an enemy of our dreams.

we think- does it need thought to reproduce?

No. no, it is rubish and heaps up. Grass grown and

we lay on our backs, scorching vision of our dead dreams

and dried blood ring encrusted around the moon.

 

I know the gaze.

I know that which richard speaks on high.

When I am, it like rays of light from  phoebus,

scorch the skin. It permenates through like

our patch-work star spangled wet dream

over hiroshima and  the sister nagasaki.

It is outside but, like the theater of the world,

in my mind- my body, my soul is a stage-

petty pace- we crawl and, like infants,

can’t decipher codes and messages

that scream in our ear like carnivors on the hunt

or smotth and deft, like my mother’s porceline whisper.

Scream to shatter and whisper to smooth this gaze.

It’s paranoia. It is the lack inside us-

this hole that produces our identity- who are you-

who am I- that question is the fabled plague-

not knowing where we are going- where we’ve been

so everything is.  …. … … … … …………..(the rest has been erased

by a force outside me and that is not paranioa).

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(no subject) [Aug. 11th, 2006|12:55 am]
atatharion
And another old one...wow I actually forgot all about this.....this is why I don't write at the keyboard. Unfinished pieces stay unfinished and are forgotten.....along with the owner of said silver eyes. No idea who that was.


ten of tomorrow

 

clocks ticking tells the tale

of mortality drifting on the winds of time

of choices and challenges

checks and balances

but something told me from the moment

I met your silver eyes

that here was a destiny waiting to happen

see sometimes I can remember

little bits of the future

and your eyes reminded me

we’ve got a friendship to forge

a labour of love to complete

you and I

we have places to build

and people to be

there is purpose to this

encounter
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(no subject) [Aug. 10th, 2006|07:58 pm]
atatharion
And here I thought I'd not use this thing.....written just a bit ago, for a dear friend going through hard times. No title yet.


They are both older than their years
But she has many more of them
It didn't stop them though
Timeless souls love regardless
Of considerations of mortal time

He found in her a mentor
In so many ways
She found in him a soul
That sang of the home she'd sought so long
They found in each other a love
Such as bards would sing of for ages to come

Theirs was a love
That radiated almost visually
Walking down the street hand in hand
They caused cynics to smile
And beggars to feel human again
Whenever they kissed
All around the world
People smiled without knowing why
Generals ordered cease-fires
And terrorists paused to search
Such souls as they possess

But though timeless in soul
Still the incarnation gap was there
Unacknowledged
Taboo
Differences in perspective
Accumulated below the radar
Youth wanted to be young
And age too slow to change
Too keen to hold on to what could be held

She would have given him the world
And in a way she did
In letting him go
But the new world he wanted to live in
Had no room in it for her

He threw out the baby
Left her holding a basin
Of dirty bathwater
Now she pretends to be happy
While inside
Inside her heart slowly dies
As the twins she never got to tell him of
Slowly grow
And yet another hard decision looms

I sit on the sidelines
Wishing I could help
Wishing I could get them talking
Wishing I could wave a magic wand
Make both their fears dissolve
Like morning mist when the sun starts to burn
But all I can do is watch
And pray
Because the day they went their separate ways
All around the world
Cynics stopped smiling
Started kicking the beggars
Generals spent their men like counterfeit coin
And terrorists searched out such souls as they had
To destroy their last shreds of humanity
And started looking for babies to burn

We live in dark times
And now
The times are that much darker...
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(no subject) [Aug. 9th, 2006|10:00 pm]
atatharion
Actually, I do have something to say. Full Moon yesterday....very productive. I made my own personal set of Runes. Still learning interpretations (never been altogether facile at divination) but I'm quite pleased.
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Happy now? [Aug. 9th, 2006|09:49 pm]
atatharion
So fine. I finally got one of these things. Doubt I'll use it much, but you never know. Stop bugging me to start one now, ok? Ok.
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