I was thinking for the past two weeks to write about the Hateful Wife, because a male from Africa said all woman are hateful, so I said that's not true, Black Woman have bad attitude. But, I wan' t to talk about angels and something biblical, a wise driver, who knows if Charon comes in mind.
(not your type of music, but I need it to write the divine rage of it)
The Angelic Ride
A little more, more come out and rightfully to the sides and the lower hitting up as well, please, please show the earth whom you are, and do please don't stop singing songs of messages to those who claim mournful prayers for the appearance of your divine body. Of course they will listen to you, perhaps not pretty much what God's has to say, but the flamboyant shiny slime in your skin, Oh! h in heaven I wan't as harden the announcement deeper the followers will run to give their last breath for more, what up on death, becoming death or surviving will be, brush my river with them!!!!
I can't tonight, Oh, please absent of the momento, lazy from nothingness, give me a brake to think I ever meet you, one more round my ferryman, you failed to pick my body when all you want is the river. My legs walked a thousand cities and dozen countries at a time, nor hell or heaven, my papers became legend with signed documents, after the Oath of Gods and Angels heighten the skies with them promises. Stories? No! Each angel is the herald of a command that's been well scripted, a command? How much are you willing to hate me my ferryman, is not enough for me to make a round to the souls you picked. Give me a brake to succumb the waters to all of them, one after the other let them free in communal sanctuary before the Bible burns the library of the Witches. The females are writing up my p**sy, by miraculous cheers onto them while they seat down, specially for those who hold no resentment to the Biblical testaments silence of their presence in the new and the old. Talk in the private to your husbands, never talk in church or prophetess, you woman!!!! Talking to no sense. Laughing would be little for the rage of it, I was still waiting for some poetry, a good sense of humour perhaps coming from the corners of the street at night. A good wife? Hate me if you can, all I need is that which empowers me, hatred or divine rage, take them all angelical beings with you. Let them see, only to them the aspect underneath the impulse of your drive, listen carefully and drop them cautiously. Do not rush paranoid if they left no tip for you, that won't happen, take my golden coins for them if you must, there are more after you drop them.
At this, of course shall I name what surrounded in the area of sacrileges, no sacrifices for today, joy shall rule, just follow them, don't let them alone praying to God, my angels in disguise, reach them and offer them a ride, yes Charon listen to their lamentations as the taxi driver you are, be with the angelical for a while for they must serve the children of God down on earth, name them if you precise that I will be there at every cost and trafficking legal term so they fulfilled harnessing the prophecy. There must be someone who is praying right now, listen to the vibration in the air, how is it that is not for themselves, not for greed and desire, prayers of magnetic madness are being blown from them who are willing to give their life for the whole. Do please, get them come in your ride, push your limits, is impossible for me to be with you Charon now, just give me your ride. Is not that the witches and furies need me most, the mundane world waits for both. As extravagant or simple it might be, let me adjust for the momento.
Death, the unknown down on earth has ever been so frivolous to believe how real it,.. is. You will suck the black matter out me, soon, very soon, as soon as God is reborn out his old ink, yeah, what a fancy surprise the biblical left, can't wait Charon, come on. Grand the angelic a ride.
Would wish to write what I desire, as if constructing the illusion it would become real, a make believe, that sort of reality one enters into a portal.
Flattered by the distance to all those powers, loving the idea to transmit the many possibilities, because what else would give me more power than the very hatred of it. Yes, this is it Charon and I hate you for it, how dare you follow my instructions to detail? He left me, embarked on his journey, after all he did bring binding oath to Hades not to me! Yes, he promised to care for the river Styx, well... and he cared to a greedy extreme. Refused to lead his boat against Hades, the realm I was running from. "Charon! It was only a calculation!" Stipulated that converting to reason he would not take it seriously, but he appointed each word to the letter and left with the silences in between. I can't handle the ferry man, please! Give me a brake. "Of course I will hate you if you stay? You just had to f*** me well!" Don't think he heard the last bit, underneath my fingers held my fever, the anger grew rapidly through each branch of my veins to a boiling stage, but it was my nerve system who screamed for him to stop following my command! Of course I said I had to be alone, he is too slow and I'm too fast. My sweat became oily. Just to remember the sweet silence he left, am I not your morphine? He did say he was not that type of a God, my ex Phallus.
"I'm not going to let you play with me"
Mentioned as my inspirations evaporated wildly.
"But, if I'm the Goddess of Rage"
You are making a stand up comedy out of me, a joke! Seemingly his greedy smile moaned back. We never had a discussion, we would always share parliamentary agreements about the travellers and their destines. Kisses, many deathful kisses for each departing last breath, we carried on and on in an infinite underworld's romance.
Our son thought he left me and him, never had wished to be a single mother, an all powerful mother to my son. The very idea of being single simply putrefied me, year after year, is it not sexy to be a mother? I like to have a Victorian house and a vintage dress out there, why not? I payed eternities working for the underworld, I too deserve to prove my own theory and is not random or quantum. It has soul and is not parallel from the living, if my murmurs could near him.
"Your free will is very important to me, Charon? I know you are strolling in the river?"
He knew It wasn't true, after the day I revealed for him to never believe in me and go beyond my words, informational waters, because there are many layers i'd wish him to see behind each truth and lie, its how the river works, the heavens and hells are schemed somehow, like a sequence it has many truths to it, passages and gates.
From that day, he took my word as gold, and all that followed. I just never knew if he'd return from paradise or hell, I don't care, at least if he came for my embodiment. Accepting that when he is on the move, there is nothing that stops him.
I could think now what I wanted to know from him, I wasn't used to the attentions of such a man and God, dressed covering his image as a muslim woman behind his cape and hood to show up his true greedy self to only me, how enraging. My ex Phallus was a d*ckhead, yes, now buried in his Palladium but Charon, Charon guarded my shores, no, no, is not just about sex, life and death, his eyes are inside of me, guarding me. Would be smooth, remembered he is so smooth, would he be smooth again, my speed is rushing, my skin might be drying to become water again, jump in the substance of my river and silence. After all who wants a wife like me, a hateful wife.
The underworld is a dangerous zone, it might be metaphysically organised by an spiritual algorithm but even the river Styx gets on a situation that could be inescapable. As Hades commanded his guardian to all the entrances and exist to avoid passage to the dark nymph, they had to keep her knowing the territory needs its fuel and rage to keep running, yet as water she became and walked among humans, this was a different story.
"I missed the appointment with the Quija Charon, do you really think anyone out there asks about me" His enlarged face ceased to flow along the shore to a stop, unmoving because he is so f***ing slow, I can't believe we are related I mean it but f*** I need him to get me out, if he knew, but as usual he can only do a stop at a time, he will never understand that our child can flow 9 times at a time with as the speed of his mother.
"Get me out of here!"
This is not the same story, steeped inside the empty vessel of his and seat with the souls who were to be reborn, yes, me among the mortal spirits and soon will walk as one of them, reluctant of whatever is trafficking through me or not.
"Damn this is going to be slow..." Murmured, at least I wasn't around the lost souls of mine for a bit, stretched myself a little on the wooden seat of the boat and breathed patiently for him to say something. I guess he doesn't like me p**sy talking about his d*ck, whatever. A ride away from Hades will do, as long as he comes along, this God of Greed doesn't even want me to call his name too much, but the Goddess of Hate does it anyways. "Come on Charon, please....prrr... come with me, I'm so tired. Who is going to hold my wet body and host the mortals for the rage of it? Pleaaaaase? Charon? You know there is destine? Don't you?" He wasn't even smile, after what happened with the furies and the water nymphs he nearly drains the drive, and hates it to loose the pass when he scrawls abroad with his stick. "Please?"
Tired is little from this torment, the rider knows. Forging my palm against my lower chin, held my head in it, seating at the confines of emptiness, to be frankly honest I think to have never travel so remembered to grasp a few coins of gold, id give him many more, but today I gave him all I had. He does like to recollect the totality of your values, nor less. At this point, admired to watch him moving so slow, it kind of broad me that kind of serenity in the journey.
Testing the Ride, 2 destine.
Well all get our stop with the ferryman, no matter how long the ride takes I´m fount of imagination to be frankly honest, regardless of were you come from or whom you are, he will always drop you. Sordid to the ends, my hairs hidden the mask of any facial expression, he is not coming with me, I guess that's it. When the elevator stops, you know that you must keep moving, and yet what is this piece of entity without the other, have you ever seen him stop for himself? It takes the darkest nymph to reach out for his come, trust me, he is not getting away with it.
Soon as the passengers dragged down their solid and pendant steps, because the souls also carry a certain identification of informational source to move them on their stages, including the next life, that too is a destine. Hells and Heavens, hum.....
"Please, Charon, I know you wont do it for your child, not for me, won't you? For your sex appeal? Pleaaaaase. Hades wants me too much down there, come with me to the afterlife along the living."
Holding his staff, that large stick of him made me tired, waited and waited, for a moment could feel he would spit me out, no words for me, a gesture would be fine. Could see my body overflowing in the air and landing in the floor of that city, after all, it was hatefulness who ruled me. Left in the concrete, he knew I could rebuild practically anything from scratch. He left me and carried on. Never leaving me in away, its impossible to believe what he is up to. He is a true empty vessel, this is my destine too, also mine.
Testing the Ride, 3 times
Stood up, brushing the dirt from the streets away, sliding the side of my hand and arm to dry the blood from my face. Now dressed, in this mortals clothing and there he was on his ferry boat. "Come here Charon! How dare you!" Sinister, abandoned by all those he drooped in that constant sonnet of goodbyes. "Charon!!! Wake up!!! Is your Goddess" For f*** says, what can I do to brake the routine?
The cars rolled in the night one after the other, this dimension has everything compacted or encapsulated, delivering constantly passages and messengers, energy too. It's too chaotic for my ferry man, were all needs in quiet and soul. Not moving, but for the very movement of his along the distance, merchant yet vigilant. He wanted me to show him desire, he wanted me to want him badly, to despair, agonise and its sad. Repeated noises from the mundane world agitated as the winds pulled me, him still in the spirited world and yet...
"I cant even hate you, so far you had taken me and still here you are, somehow."
It would be time to turn and look for shelter, among vagabonds, the living of the lost souls, no one will recognise me among them.
"Its fine Charon, but I'm too generous and overflowing if you could sustain me by the power of your Greed, the mission takes 3 times, from past, present and future. Our son, the new generation of the River's Drive upon earth, needs our support. He doesn't need to kill directly, the changes, come with me for the changes, please, there are so many golden coins in the upper world and I know the Golden Coins very well."
Repeated 3 times for him to come, testing the ride was never as difficult as today, to take him all over my river now, into another dimension.
"Yes, Charon I will get them to give you the Golden Coins! Just ride me" If I could cover my body in gold so gets me, I´d never give it to Hades, its true, my plain dark eyes bind an oath for him to see it come through. And the winds keep blowing, and he steeped out from the ferry onto this world. Affirmatively, he is all I need. Hug him and kissed him so tight."Hum, Charon all it takes is 3 times, and many coins, yes plenty!" How soft spoken when he said. "We are going home, a new home." And somehow opened a door, still it gets time to get adjusted, had not seen the path but he took me in so fast.
As to addressing up in this world, all you need is a damn good business card, clean minimal with a fancy address, a designers ornament to shield you as man possibly do, hiding my arse and my hard on, as yet could not to see my nipples, just my head and hands to face the deal and for whomever would fight to remove the upper two layers of my suit, any will imagine I have a thong up my arse as pretending to be discrete and mysterious they all wonder to any arse and the more you hide it to a certain move that is not much to the easy attention but well enough to the uneasy tension to guard it as if to enter the aura of my domain you need much courage to be faced, so yes I stand quite straight all the time unafraid of how much you can cup my breast. And as I direct my eyes over the average of the mortal eye, per say, if they can walk the walk aside, behind or fore, yes I do also wear the fine lingerie of a sadist, for you to show me that how you move your underwear, because it’s something unavoidable to whomever surrounds me. Laughed infernally for those who wished to possess that ability, as soon I'd walk off everything turns back to normal uniform. Can any f*** your mind after another of your team, till your heart pumps to discover that everyone has an intelligent skin of their own, but I won’t have more than your desire to believe you could manage the power of the rage.
Hate me because you are a married man, or you have a zealous girl friend who wants to possess you, or because you are too fat or too skinny, too rich to ever purchase me and can't because you know I say no, no, no. Or too poor to maintain my unwanted maintenance, hate me because you see me while you f*** your girlfriend and she has enter the portal were I reap her clothe off if she wants to keep having you to by the order of a gaining a little time of divine rage, you will always modified the impossibility with any reason towards my cunt, being utterly f***ed by a woman of free will who gives a sh*t, and will never make you finish if you give in. "I f*** Gods, my darling, real Gods, with supremacist d*ck heads not a chicken head to overcoat my breast and neck with their sperm, agh, how acidic I like the lot, after 8 hours of trying to shoot it off, I know the secrets of making a God prevail their ejaculating impulsive an emotional drip, fear, no I don't want fear, I want their resistance against my hateful and competitive drive, a second to stop and hold it is enough to control your heading theme from spiting it!
So, yes today I'm hateful as f***, ready to show the world of mine in the upper world.
Disgusted or not, I always get what I want, so okey, I'm in the upper world, going out for what is an ayahuasca trip to others and might say was a simple day to my average view, not too hot, not too cold, simply fresh, oh yeah! At first what it call my view to the rest of the panorama was this couple getting out of the car in the gas station and started getting a vibe over me as I sunk the gasoline in, imagine my body posture I have no time for details.
As he comes to me and walks kind of hypnotized and partially control for what words to say, states to my behalf to be a free man, then looking at her glaring her eyes at my so very sensitive heart, balance my head to see him more and in a submitted change of view towards her. "Tell me woman, you want to do witchcraft, this is the only Goddess your man and you have ever seeing appeared in your entire hypocrite life." Is not that there is compassion for human nature to draft you the channel, but I'm pretty clear and I always say. "I wont say it again, one time is enough." To avoid explanatory drama. She shouted standing up from the back of the car's door, who was open, "You can have him! Take him!" I was like, hello this people need severe S&M sex to discipline the thirst in their mouths, what's wrong with them? So I flipped my hands in the air like, what?
"Tell me hon? You want to suck d*ck? Suck him, suck him all you want him, I tell you that Id have you both before you give me him. So deal with it. I don't want him? He is a baby toy to have a fantasy with! And I'm the fantasy, he is the toy and you be the sucking p**sy of my Iron Hades Dildo of Charon." She was abstracted for a moment because she knew if to f*** or not, whatsoever yes or not, with or without this d*ck or the other, up her mouth, p**sy or arse. So, I turned to him, were he cups my hand to the gasoline gun, which was holding again and pressed stop to the machine staring at the drive of my car and said.
"Take me baby, I want it all." The girl was flipping out in colors and cooling her true colors, because she did like me and that was unacceptable, she wanted to have me as well, or be like me as I sensed their sexual attraction opening in a triangle angle of comprehensive tight perception and placing the tube of the dark oil back to its slot, said.
"Well, you will have to park your car and leave it all behind, as you might understand it’s not of mine be followed." This long straightened hairs to the weight of the gravity on the upper earth did not have them levitating as I’d best wish to feel for Goddess like, somehow I was kind of human there as I leaned down flexing my legs inside the automobile, they were thinking something I could sense from my seat. "Hell, no, if we go, we better go now before killing each other on the drive back home to our always routine, we might have the chance of being millionaires and famous with a Goddess." And sensed from her. "So you don't want to marry me? Why do you have me for?" She runs after him, because after all, he was a d*ck. And pussies always scream for more, come on. You want to see my body sliding on your man and compete with me, let me watch you braking your comparisons over what the f*** is true love and what's not, or who is better to gain that and for what price or value are you putting your standards down for.
So, the private driver took off and they were so excited as insecure, the young lad held leaned his arms above my upper leg and she was kind of fine after a few miles, they wanted to talk so I was kind of manipulative enraging each of their body parts and senses, and directed them to
"Just listen to the music"
Won't describe that's so easy for you to do in your own, white people, you can't dance you have to be lead, "Sorry, I'm so sorry." Left them on the highway quite naked, aside a forest so they can feel my favourite sensual item, the sound of precision, the earth is solid as a rock and you can instrument your ear and position to its maximum penetration, "Listen I said, any false move from the music and you are out of rhythm. I have to go to the hair salon, I nearly forgot!"
So banged the door back to mine speeding like a bullet, if there is nothing I'm more psychopath for than for the very adrenaline that time space, can bring is for the very speed it does, it brings that grandioseness of ultimate freedom to an unstoppable savage waging war who victors its destiny, and will say this very fast as an accident stopped another mobile in their way in to their intend to cross mine. "Die in my car if you must, you can't cross over, I have Charon driving honey, so they unconsciously dropped their coins to not get lost before the paramedics arrived." Getting into travel is so easy as unwanted, the Ghost now mockingly motioned another form of translating from a keen extra sensorial talk out from the body, well, "What a change of live? Are we dead?" I crossed my long legs, stretching the upper one angling from above, showing the little skin of my delicate tendon before the high heels, swing once, then slower and then seemingly less as a pendulum soothing to a pause while accommodating my purse to the side, blinked an eye to to the retro visor of Charon asking him to please carry on. "
"Please love, you won’t want me to have me disgusted, won't you?" He is so surveillance when he holds the handle, there is no man like a man who likes to drive as far away as possible from woman, while having her in the back seat. So he pushed the gears, he had a one of a dimensional view to move forward, huff..."You said? Oh, yess dears, you are pretty dead." So the spirits too evolved in their transition and moved on to the purgatory in a waiting realm of my heart. "Your kind is incompatible to the frequency of my business, bye!"
So, yes had fan myself with the last Italian magazine of Vogue and to the pleasure of peace watched him taking me through the highway, hum. Let's be honest, he doesn't like my ordinary looks, he likes the diva, a diva he could just take to the make up artist and hair salon for I'm as horrid as any woman could be in the morning so he left me there to pick me up again as he has his own business, that's a man, a real man who makes his woman laugh. Oh, yes. Being him is so funny, look how serious he is. He is so, so serious.
So, he took me for dinner on my request to recover my appetite, was losing my dark essence and getting kind of pale and flat in this upper world, he knew I need it material so he could take some meat from my bones. How exquisite to be up in the elevator next to him, so tall and strong, enjoying the skylight of the capital, glimmered tinny lights like saying back to the night "We are alive, we pay our electric bills."
I’m going to tell you something because when we seat in the restaurant of the pick of this tower, is like, you can tell who has modals in the table and there is nothing more I hate than people pretending to have modals, you can tell how relax they are without thinking out to eat. Even a person who has never joint the very high class of the skylights and political corridors of this world can simply enjoy and accept the goodness of human craft to its best, without regret and offence to what it really is, so f*** off if you can't eat well and enjoy a dinner. As we set in the reserved table, and we looked at the menu, oh, yess had studied that menu because is very difficult for me to choose when is all appealing, wanted all but I like the table to have one by one. Charon picked an absolutions and then he picked for me, what a greedy bastard. Doesn't he know what he likes first? Being said, a simple choice and that's it. It's a please. So raising my finger candidly with a nod the waitress came to the service. "Can you tell those people in the corner to relax, it's really annoying me. They can eat with their hands if they want but tell them they have to leave the resource if they don't feel the class they are among." And nearly blinked an eye to give him the threatening idea of death if did not, because that is how the servitude works under fears of being fired if not pleasing their clients. Tip always make them a fair evaluation to their works. And if you don't have much money, go always to the same restaurant to make it your field.
Looked at Charon now that could feel his greedy annal mind more relax and told him. "Is all bullsh*t, it has been a decade that I don't go to a fine restaurant every other week end, I prefer to cook so is more theatrical and the party stays at home, but my mother the Goddess of the Night and my ex-husband Pallas lost it all their goods betting on my sister Lilith then the other betting in Kali, the serpent dancers, they really thought the investment was in making a man watching her body for no aims to be more valuable, in revenge to male kind after my dad Tartarus? Bah! What a foul to not trust in the fortune of the free spirits of mine. It was then that I meet you and you Oath to Hades to be my ferry man, when this lake not many friends had. Stop looking at me like that, I know you hate this music, is only used so it helps to build up a rage dynamic who is repressed as a tomb in this upper world."
If to swear by the Gods in Olympus this man doesn't talk and he is company. As the dishes was presented as a painting, giggled as a little brat as he seats humbly accepting the craft of others to him, savouring how his palate would taste the same dish he selected as a kiss from the distance, each element had a porpoise so we talk about the dish in detail and cheered surrounded by the beauty of the architecture, he is so beautiful to look at, sweet like fine medicine. So slowly dying when I look at him, if to stop existing to just see him I obey the rhythm of fork and watch carefully how he sips, you know the refine class can psychoanalyse you just by the manners you decode in the table. Is a secret among the high class who is passed from generation, to generation as for those who enter, and is human, it's slow. I recommend to always eat a filthy fat nasty burger before going to a fine restaurant so you don't eat with a fast desperate hunger, without sensing the hours and hours and processing of the elaborated food. Anyone can do that, everyone does once in a while. This is why I lost my appetite, because there was nothing to celebrate. And he drove my appetite back.
Latter on to a concert of classical epic music of some of a favourite world wide’s soundtrack, an orchestra with digital music, nourishing the sound of silence, he walks like a lion slowly, as having many lioness around when showing one, people thought how rich he must be to have me dress for him, and he stands out openly once out.
Next day waking up wherever it was. "To be honest Charon, I'm a little board of the same, could you take me to the Museum?" So we went there and remembered all the people who died in the past and well. "I know, was the best King France could ever have and the ever last. Now, they resent all the kings of Europe those resented French bastards without a King and Queen, ah" Charon was not really into Royal gossips, but he listened as if he was in a traffic jam with no other choice, another moment of those knowing what I would say without paying much interest. "And, look at them claiming to be liberals at the mist of an ecological revolution, come on how does Trump shake hands for oil and electricity? Without investing in new platforms of values with technology? At least our Kings relate to their colonies and all their allies, something Trump is puppet from, trying to walk his way from the Queen, he is good to make countries love their own more and help stop immigration." Charon breathed heavily abstracted by the each masterpiece in the halls, how a life time was crafted in one single page for ever, and as he admired the layers and strokes he showed me how much I've missed my point. "Styx, is all history, now one gives a damn thing. Unless they want a station, why do you think I'm so rich? Because I drive them to that station, look at how much attention you give me just so I drive you here and there and all else? Do you think the world needs this paintings or Royalties? Who cares? This portraits make people believe they are special, the collection is ambitious and overpriced" Forged his hands with greediness, as if having a plan.
Charon is not really a spoken man, when it comes to me, resilient, he nodded forgetting, all he wants is to silence me under my river, coz I'm as talkative as hateful, so he proposed to me to rehearsal for a speech in TED, let’s remember he is the God of Greed and will reserve everything he must for his drive and his souls, if to quiet me down with the reservoir of my ambition to recycle every possible thought, emotion and material with a natural return to the earth he will push me as far as possible so I keep talking, away as possible till I do it. Could listen to his body talking as well as we walked in the Museum, and he said hugging by the backside of my shoulders and holding my tight to him while staring to a painting of a general in a horse. "It might be a futuristic idea" In his small talk.
So I asked him again to drive me to the supermarket and in the car told him, he was paused as one of those man who lets their woman talk and do as they wish in order to not establish a mutual conversation and kept talking my head off. "Rio has no idea of this world, our son, he must be riding his motorcycle wishing to be as you or like me, to integrate who he wants to be, taking the girls or boys out in their own bikes so we look at him with pride for what he got, our child, is being with us for so long now, a grown man now with his own abilities, if he survived Hades look, Charon, seriously tell me, I'm tired of all this! He is as lost as a boomerang in the air to return home, he is going no were. Is not the food but some nourishment to get out stronger again, he needs you Charon, he needs your deep voice, is not guidance but he will copy so much of you as a driver and as me as his gasoline. Wish him competition, with some girl or boy or both, you need connections in the upper world as much my river has in Hades, the upper world is costly played and you know that. Come on don't look away, I know you have a secret bank account, just please, Charon, you must give him a credit, all that’s of mine in this plain must be to do some supermarket shopping, I can serve him all the directions and connections but if you don't give him credit he will regret your distance to him, give him a definite choice and only direction, with credit, he will pay it back. He hardly talks about your rejections, why are you so greedy, oh, Charon, come on Charon, will you? Hum?" Rubbed his upper leg so his vessels tensed less while he drove me to the supermarket, I loved how he hated me being so manipulative, because there is so much need for him to do what I can't and he only could if he would, perhaps. "Please, Charon, please I beg you, don't leave him like that as if he a grown up, he still needs another decade of growth."
So he left me, Charon hated my entangled wants and would do anything to stop in any other station, it was not of his to near our son, why? Only Jesus and God know. Charon will drive you for money, even if you are his child push you to the mortals so he remembers then how to enter his heaven and to gain their path on their own. Motherly what's of ours but to deal them both. So he gave me a few golden coins of his and as the God of Greed he is, he did have his affinity to crave his greed for. "Thank you, hon!" And he left me without saying a word, I trust him, even if it doesn't work, I always trust my husband.
This is fun, there is nothing a Goddess of Hated loves more than going to the supermarket, just to compare how good I'm despite the high class restaurant, its a delight to constantly compare ingredients, textures, the matureness in the vegetables, how crunchy or spicy, comparing, comparing brands, comparing tags, comparing places. It was a never ending shopping list, frequenting the always chosen places, this place for this, that for that, talking to strangers and my best friends in the supermarket.
The always tight and suppress their smile when they see me in the back of the line from their classier, and they compete to have me first, you could count the seconds and items they deliver and sometimes they do it very slow, knowing the next customer has more groceries, just to have a little talk with me. Sometimes, I stop in the line pretending I'm looking for a brand on the isle and let some customer take my place, because I also like an specific cashier, and he is the Chinese man, I like the thin Irish too, but I can't help when it comes for choices. So calculative when it comes to the cashier, sometimes I go to the back of the line and ask an old lady and ask her to follow me and walk her along "Yes I'm going to get you first, they are wonderful people" And they all nod and smile knowing how yes, yes, yes, they all are, one after the other and its all a directed theatre. So, the Chinese man told me how his work is better than mine, and he told me how he got a brain cancer because of doing a Yoga position with all his body on top his head. He had surgery, and is younger than me. He told me how he came to this country having no language and how happy he was after he encountered death, like a little chubby Buddha. That's why I like him while the Irish young lad is more f***able of the timid virgin kind who makes you feel as a pervert when you talk to them, he tells me how he prefers to work in a supermarket, but he never tells me why, I really try to convince him to tell me why, every time he is stacking the merchandise is like, yes, here I'm again. Oh, and how I love because he has OCD and he hates how the boss from India, doesn't place it orderly as he does. Going to the supermarket of my choice is like being in a South American soap opera. Then it's the guard, a black on his 40's from Africa, he stands there as a gentleman and pretends to not look crazy while talking with me for a long time. He loves to stop the British Ladies with the machine who detects stolen groceries, maybe he doesn't purposely but I swear it only stops the British Ladies, and he really acts as a British gentleman, he is so in love with them in those seconds to save them from the alarm.
So, he does laughs and tells me that the tomatoes are better if they come from Spain or Mexico, because now they are taste like plastic, not juicy, so I'm like. "What kind of tomatoes you have in Africa, Senegal, you said?" So, he tells me his story, and then I go shopping to the Afghanistan kind of supermarket, this make it as 2.000 years ago, with products of today and gives me Romanian cigarettes for half the price, I like to invest my money in all his vegetables, because when I forget my credit card he always tells me to pay another day. And the young Jamaicans who hustle him for prices, think we have a love affair because we always team up so they back off and immediately they think about sex, we always look back at the Jamaicans like, pay your thing and grow up. Well, he also lets me use his restroom and it looks like inside a village in the Middle East.
Then as I move to another places, there is place who has the vitamins I like with the only sun dried tomatoes, that's it, I changed my bread supplier from them when I found my Polish Store who has a German bread for just a fresher price, that's it there. And garlic because now you have to walk another mile to get organic garlic who tastes like garlic, this neighbourhood is so difficult, so after all, beloveds, what could one do? Ask Charon. "This can't go on, I need another place their stories are old and I don't know, I like it too, but... there is a place that I want to go, would you take me?" Don't believe me, he is not my driver, but he takes me to places, Charon exists in your mind and you can note down your shopping list, and number it by priorities, and make your preferences and places to form a new resume or life, or decorative style, or body type, to get your greed tight for that drive you want, you will have to calculate because he has no answers for you, you will say were, Charon represents my best friend, the best ally you can have in your mind and actions, in your work and pathways to be a better person, to purchase a better career. You must talk with the Charon who hates to listen at you, but will say a significant answer, and he will stop you there were you want. He is not a person, he is not your boss or the people who work with you. Charon gives you a choice in the pinnacle of the hierarchy in your shopping list, in the dish to pick in the menu, at the painting who will make him talk.
So, It feels better now, after the ride of the ferryman, Styx and the spirits in this world are truly nothing without paying him an honor.
So, he took me for dinner on my request to recover my appetite, was losing my dark essence and getting kind of pale and flat in this upper world, he knew I need it material so he could take some meat from my bones. How exquisite to be up in the elevator next to him, so tall and strong, enjoying the skylight of the capital, glimmered tinny lights like saying back to the night "We are alive, we pay our electric bills."
I’m going to tell you something because when we seat in the restaurant of the pick of this tower, is like, you can tell who has modals in the table and there is nothing more I hate than people pretending to have modals, you can tell how relax they are without thinking out to eat. Even a person who has never joint the very high class of the skylights and political corridors of this world can simply enjoy and accept the goodness of human craft to its best, without regret and offence to what it really is, so f*** off if you can't eat well and enjoy a dinner. As we set in the reserved table, and we looked at the menu, oh, yess had studied that menu because is very difficult for me to choose when is all appealing, wanted all but I like the table to have one by one. Charon picked an absolutions and then he picked for me, what a greedy bastard. Doesn't he know what he likes first? Being said, a simple choice and that's it. It's a please. So raising my finger candidly with a nod the waitress came to the service. "Can you tell those people in the corner to relax, it's really annoying me. They can eat with their hands if they want but tell them they have to leave the resource if they don't feel the class they are among." And nearly blinked an eye to give him the threatening idea of death if did not, because that is how the servitude works under fears of being fired if not pleasing their clients. Tip always make them a fair evaluation to their works. And if you don't have much money, go always to the same restaurant to make it your field.
Looked at Charon now that could feel his greedy annal mind more relax and told him. "Is all bullsh*t, it has been a decade that I don't go to a fine restaurant every other week end, I prefer to cook so is more theatrical and the party stays at home, but my mother the Goddess of the Night and my ex-husband Pallas lost it all their goods betting on my sister Lilith then the other betting in Kali, the serpent dancers, they really thought the investment was in making a man watching her body for no aims to be more valuable, in revenge to male kind after my dad Tartarus? Bah! What a foul to not trust in the fortune of the free spirits of mine. It was then that I meet you and you Oath to Hades to be my ferry man, when this lake not many friends had. Stop looking at me like that, I know you hate this music, is only used so it helps to build up a rage dynamic who is repressed as a tomb in this upper world."
If to swear by the Gods in Olympus this man doesn't talk and he is company. As the dishes was presented as a painting, giggled as a little brat as he seats humbly accepting the craft of others to him, savouring how his palate would taste the same dish he selected as a kiss from the distance, each element had a porpoise so we talk about the dish in detail and cheered surrounded by the beauty of the architecture, he is so beautiful to look at, sweet like fine medicine. So slowly dying when I look at him, if to stop existing to just see him I obey the rhythm of fork and watch carefully how he sips, you know the refine class can psychoanalyse you just by the manners you decode in the table. Is a secret among the high class who is passed from generation, to generation as for those who enter, and is human, it's slow. I recommend to always eat a filthy fat nasty burger before going to a fine restaurant so you don't eat with a fast desperate hunger, without sensing the hours and hours and processing of the elaborated food. Anyone can do that, everyone does once in a while. This is why I lost my appetite, because there was nothing to celebrate. And he drove my appetite back.
Latter on to a concert of classical epic music of some of a favourite world wide’s soundtrack, an orchestra with digital music, nourishing the sound of silence, he walks like a lion slowly, as having many lioness around when showing one, people thought how rich he must be to have me dress for him, and he stands out openly once out.
Next day waking up wherever it was. "To be honest Charon, I'm a little board of the same, could you take me to the Museum?" So we went there and remembered all the people who died in the past and well. "I know, was the best King France could ever have and the ever last. Now, they resent all the kings of Europe those resented French bastards without a King and Queen, ah" Charon was not really into Royal gossips, but he listened as if he was in a traffic jam with no other choice, another moment of those knowing what I would say without paying much interest. "And, look at them claiming to be liberals at the mist of an ecological revolution, come on how does Trump shake hands for oil and electricity? Without investing in new platforms of values with technology? At least our Kings relate to their colonies and all their allies, something Trump is puppet from, trying to walk his way from the Queen, he is good to make countries love their own more and help stop immigration." Charon breathed heavily abstracted by the each masterpiece in the halls, how a life time was crafted in one single page for ever, and as he admired the layers and strokes he showed me how much I've missed my point. "Styx, is all history, now one gives a damn thing. Unless they want a station, why do you think I'm so rich? Because I drive them to that station, look at how much attention you give me just so I drive you here and there and all else? Do you think the world needs this paintings or Royalties? Who cares? This portraits make people believe they are special, the collection is ambitious and overpriced" Forged his hands with greediness, as if having a plan.
Charon is not really a spoken man, when it comes to me, resilient, he nodded forgetting, all he wants is to silence me under my river, coz I'm as talkative as hateful, so he proposed to me to rehearsal for a speech in TED, let’s remember he is the God of Greed and will reserve everything he must for his drive and his souls, if to quiet me down with the reservoir of my ambition to recycle every possible thought, emotion and material with a natural return to the earth he will push me as far as possible so I keep talking, away as possible till I do it. Could listen to his body talking as well as we walked in the Museum, and he said hugging by the backside of my shoulders and holding my tight to him while staring to a painting of a general in a horse. "It might be a futuristic idea" In his small talk.
So I asked him again to drive me to the supermarket and in the car told him, he was paused as one of those man who lets their woman talk and do as they wish in order to not establish a mutual conversation and kept talking my head off. "Rio has no idea of this world, our son, he must be riding his motorcycle wishing to be as you or like me, to integrate who he wants to be, taking the girls or boys out in their own bikes so we look at him with pride for what he got, our child, is being with us for so long now, a grown man now with his own abilities, if he survived Hades look, Charon, seriously tell me, I'm tired of all this! He is as lost as a boomerang in the air to return home, he is going no were. Is not the food but some nourishment to get out stronger again, he needs you Charon, he needs your deep voice, is not guidance but he will copy so much of you as a driver and as me as his gasoline. Wish him competition, with some girl or boy or both, you need connections in the upper world as much my river has in Hades, the upper world is costly played and you know that. Come on don't look away, I know you have a secret bank account, just please, Charon, you must give him a credit, all that’s of mine in this plain must be to do some supermarket shopping, I can serve him all the directions and connections but if you don't give him credit he will regret your distance to him, give him a definite choice and only direction, with credit, he will pay it back. He hardly talks about your rejections, why are you so greedy, oh, Charon, come on Charon, will you? Hum?" Rubbed his upper leg so his vessels tensed less while he drove me to the supermarket, I loved how he hated me being so manipulative, because there is so much need for him to do what I can't and he only could if he would, perhaps. "Please, Charon, please I beg you, don't leave him like that as if he a grown up, he still needs another decade of growth."
So he left me, Charon hated my entangled wants and would do anything to stop in any other station, it was not of his to near our son, why? Only Jesus and God know. Charon will drive you for money, even if you are his child push you to the mortals so he remembers then how to enter his heaven and to gain their path on their own. Motherly what's of ours but to deal them both. So he gave me a few golden coins of his and as the God of Greed he is,he did have his affinity to crave his greed for. "Thank you, hon!" And he left me without saying a word, I trust him, even if it doesn't work, I always trust my husband.
This is fun, there is nothing a Goddess of Hated loves more than going to the supermarket, just to compare how good I'm despite the high class restaurant, its a delight to constantly compare ingredients, textures, the matureness in the vegetables, how crunchy or spicy, comparing, comparing brands, comparing tags, comparing places. It was a never ending shopping list, frequenting the always chosen places, this place for this, that for that, talking to strangers and my best friends in the supermarket.
The always tight and suppress their smile when they see me in the back of the line from their classier, and they compete to have me first, you could count the seconds and items they deliver and sometimes they do it very slow, knowing the next customer has more groceries, just to have a little talk with me. Sometimes, I stop in the line pretending I'm looking for a brand on the isle and let some customer take my place, because I also like an specific cashier, and he is the Chinese man, I like the thin Irish too, but I can't help when it comes for choices. So calculative when it comes to the cashier, sometimes I go to the back of the line and ask an old lady and ask her to follow me and walk her along "Yes I'm going to get you first, they are wonderful people" And they all nod and smile knowing how yes, yes, yes, they all are, one after the other and its all a directed theatre. So, the Chinese man told me how his work is better than mine, and he told me how he got a brain cancer because of doing a Yoga position with all his body on top his head. He had surgery, and is younger than me. He told me how he came to this country having no language and how happy he was after he encountered death, like a little chubby Buddha. That's why I like him while the Irish young lad is more f***able of the timid virgin kind who makes you feel as a pervert when you talk to them, he tells me how he prefers to work in a supermarket, but he never tells me why, I really try to convince him to tell me why, every time he is stacking the merchandise is like, yes, here I'm again. Oh, and how I love because he has OCD and he hates how the boss from India, doesn't place it orderly as he does. Going to the supermarket of my choice is like being in a South American soap opera. Then it's the guard, a black on his 40's from Africa, he stands there as a gentleman and pretends to not look crazy while talking with me for a long time. He loves to stop the British Ladies with the machine who detects stolen groceries, maybe he doesn't purposely but I swear it only stops the British Ladies, and he really acts as a British gentleman, he is so in love with them in those seconds to save them from the alarm.
So, he does laughs and tells me that the tomatoes are better if they come from Spain or Mexico, because now they are taste like plastic, not juicy, so I'm like. "What kind of tomatoes you have in Africa, Senegal, you said?" So, he tells me his story, and then I go shopping to the Afghanistan kind of supermarket, this make it as 2.000 years ago, with products of today and gives me Romanian cigarettes for half the price, I like to invest my money in all his vegetables, because when I forget my credit card he always tells me to pay another day. And the young Jamaicans who hustle him for prices, think we have a love affair because we always team up so they back off and immediately they think about sex, we always look back at the Jamaicans like, pay your thing and grow up. Well, he also lets me use his restroom and it looks like inside a village in the Middle East.
Then as I move to another places, there is place who has the vitamins I like with the only sun dried tomatoes, that's it, I changed my bread supplier from them when I found my Polish Store who has a German bread for just a fresher price, that's it there. And garlic because now you have to walk another mile to get organic garlic who tastes like garlic, this neighbourhood is so difficult, so after all, beloveds, what could one do? Ask Charon. "This can't go on, I need another place their stories are old and I don't know, I like it too, but... there is a place that I want to go, would you take me?" Don't believe me, he is not my driver, but he takes me to places, Charon exists in your mind and you can note down your shopping list, and number it by priorities, and make your preferences and places to form a new resume or life, or decorative style, or body type, to get your greed tight for that drive you want, you will have to calculate because he has no answers for you, you will say were, Charon represents my best friend, the best ally you can have in your mind and actions, in your work and pathways to be a better person, to purchase a better career. You must talk with the Charon who hates to listen at you, but will say a significant answer, and he will stop you there were you want. He is not a person, he is not your boss or the people who work with you. Charon gives you a choice in the pinnacle of the hierarchy in your shopping list, in the dish to pick in the menu, at the painting who will make him talk.
So, It feels better now, after the ride of the ferryman, Styx and the spirits in this world are truly nothing without paying him an honour.
Could have called it for a day in this upper world so I told Charon to make it his way, that I will always be outside his boat, free on my own flow. So he walked away smiling as if his politeness would guaranty the desire he contained to shield his thoughts.
Independently, I'm a Goddess of Hatred and I like it that way dont make the river flow against its will this is my realm and my freedom, if you please to take them all to their destine and have those coins baby you will have to hold on to the stick and drag the vessel of travellers on the ride, maybe I had say too much, but is I set a line between this waters and my lost souls. "You will take them out, one by one to show the beauty of their last breath if you wish to flow above me!!!" Perhaps non even the echo would repeat the torture of my existence, of course I hate them all lost souls as much self hatred could exist.
Tipping my chin and graving the nothingness of it inside my palm between the thoughtfulness of it. "Oh, yes!" As he was further and further seat in my hard rock.
wanted to write a chapter about Self Hatred to a journalist in the Telegraph, something never done yet, it will cause a self impact, but wait, wait, it must embrace the humanity at least to stop the congestion in my river with the damn souls of the lost. Hello? With the phone on my hand now, breathed out again.
"Yes?" "Its Styx, the River Styx. I have a story for you!" Glancing my feet on the air with a continuous swing, across the other explain the journalist all about it.
I hate my p**sy because his d*ck is quite big but not thick and its abnormal, I hate my p**sy because I'm not interest in making him hard, so he kills all this people to get me horny, eventually as I breath their last breath, come to realise in his eyes the craving need for love he sustains to have some love from his Goddess of Hatred, but, no, no, no. This is not self hatred or loving a person because of a particular link to a painful emotion, its the realisation of knowing this person knows how much it hates you and in that will never be fulfilled with you, because its the very hatred of it, is never enough, were are you going all the time when I never come, this river ends when it begun, so he keeps marching away taking all others in a kind of self hatred symphony, for the newly dead only suffer for everything they haven done. When is all taken away, you know all the objects you loved are not coming with you, nor the people, but the experience is lost once you find out it was an illusion and as you enter into the inside of your body in the spirit of all things and the underworld, there is only self hatred my river gives you at start, of course after you had entered with that sweet morphine, but what more could it be. For that reason you will be reborn, to try again, its precisely that what you will remember till you get it.
So the whole humanity keeps working and the self hatred is abominable, if not neglected. I don't want you, I don't want anyone, I love myself beyond the desserts and horizons onto any orbit and back and I hate it when I return, because I have nothing. There is nothing between life and death, at least if you were alive you would count in all those things that make happy to wake again, it becomes a repetitive impulse, something you do. With self hatred, obligated, without another option, the oppression is hard and many lost souls dive with you before you clock in to work, mechanical, a meditation or absent. This river is so beautiful at the sides of its purity to submerge in, its impossible to stop the flow and I'm afraid the flow will take me away, at least the death too have that totality of being death, as the living exist in their totality. Split not, but hated as a double personality, committing to either side, non have the love I acquire. Hate them both, for who is one without the other, empty vessels like Charon, distant to feel eternity, self hating the meaning of it all.
So, if you take this on the press, please be advise that I'm to sue to the law of gravity who is against the quantum. And if you place it on the political section better, because this realm will attack and is conquering from all its synchronicity. Even of those who won't understand were this hatred comes from. Is not love, is not dominion, let me clear my river away from any perdition. The River Styx will reveal all its secrets to all the souls who were lost and rise their hand to stand up, beautiful in their form of arts, poetry and philosophy, to distribute beauty and nourish the children so we continue being childlike and less abuse. So the d*ck of men, thinks, were they did into the hole, and think before they hammer, for love and friendship, parenting and mastering is higher then that. Self hatred is in every abused child and grown abuse child, twisting to be loved, and will do anything for that attention, let them. Let them despair for what real love needs not to be mentioned.
Hate them all who wish to posses your higher self, for no one will care unless there is commitment for a higher dimension, multi universally speaking, politically speaking and socially, everything could speed up and why not relax in the ride, maybe Charon takes you with some more element to it. He will drop you, and listen in the travel, he will grow wise as he delivers better quality with codependent transfer, he thinks I own this river and I hate myself for that, but hey? What can I do? He has to flow in it, want it or not the hatred is unavoidable and this waves will keep pushing him away till he makes a deal with Hades to make a higher dimension to the heavens and a torturous hell to the sinners, this time I had requested self employment, those bastards will have to work and the trap all the passages in the map for them to fall down with no escape. Yes, my beloved Lost Souls, I need a little more space in my river, more water nymphs for its monsters to swim by.
At this, hung the phone, after agreeing for an appointment with the paper. Thought it might sound chaotic, but it made sense to an abstract understanding and pattern. Not that it was a wake up call, the journalist suffered to place their news in the front line, to have, The Story. Evidently everyone knew how to hide the self hatred so well, no one knew how to find the cure and I wanted hatred to be famous, not a miserable mystery. I listen to my hatred and the more I have it as myself, I can identified the reason, and I'd love Charon to have better passengers from shore to shore to reveal the underworld as a beautiful scenario from the living through the living and all the way around its journey. If he could leave me alone, is fine, I let him drive and let him hate me within his ferry, he knows my self hatred for being a mere river, always coming down the waters.
This p**sy cries and dislikes its entrance, dried or wet, there is no interest but pure selfhatred for doing a show with no desire. Im already flowing without the need of the so called love. Subject to the reality of spirited craft, missing my God Phallas.
It might never get any better, now I lost everything thanks to the lost souls who surround me without another choice but than jumping back to my river, breath again as if it was the last time, wishing more river weed to oxygen my skin.
When I awaked I found myself exceedingly refreshed, but that, however, one way or the other and the spirits lively flowers and medicinal breakfast I supposed, I was stronger than yesterday and in the shore the nymphs sing to the travellers too whom afar carry penance in the weary of living behind their families, for it was short the trip in the upper life. Making the witness see, and hand touching hands in the boat of destiny and my lost souls sunk and tipping my toes inside submerge following them once again.
And worthy of acceptation among them, one of them, bubbling my arms around them with another last breath, loosing their anxiety off, wave swirling underneath the anonymity, retrieve from the fixes minds who hate me. Fame and power, they want shouting the name of the river Styx with pertinent annoyance.
Who palpitate miraculous and ever lasting boundaries to be shared, as the lost souls to one another. And all those shares, are lost, again. The pause marches, my friends, seemingly paralysed, nameless. Hatred, that if you knew, blissful from the untagging infinite. Never afraid to stop the loving bay. Unrecognised, unwanted, unvalued, misunderstood, non attached, elevating through the muddy waters, to the immaculate.
Hate me if you must, coz you cross over. Split identities, to the believe they could ever exist without the other. Split identities, electrically thundering by past and future, split polarities, twirling from molecular to the universe, for this river is one. No one else is here, non with a name on their grave to be missed.
Quick within the waters, serpentined, alone, all one as the lost souls, in love, raged by unaware divinity, with conscious or not, we loose our selfs intoxicated, to breath again, yet. And when glory is blurred, and another vision transfigures. Whom am I to condemn you, my lost souls, we will never get to see the judges, we have no paradise nor hells, bond to flow, dancing without mercy. One who stands in dewless asphodel, wants more and takes. A wear power who never satisfies, eats inside for simple things as non, flow with great abundance when you have nothing to hold back.
"As strong as death, nonsense." And their eyes twist sweetly contained to the stress, my lost souls know, they can breath again as a last kiss. "Oh love, they call me hatred" Misunderstood to promote anger in my name, thy words have ill availed, wear my plain to sight. Did not want the coins, another fluency takes. This river supports Charon, his sanctifying ride will take you abroad. In charity swim backwards, my porpoise has no ends, for those who had failed, will rejoice with, there is no end in the falling. Between the shores without ground, was never hateful as I made believed, I was supporting Charon to bring more death. For each end, I love thee freely, grief, my lost saints.
"Your high promise, would you die for your reason to be alive in full spirit? Come my lost, there is yet another breath to gain." Twirling with them bodies, rushing humanity, petals come down, swinging, bling, bling, how peaceful it's inside with no were to go. Are you persuading me to give it all up? When the more is given the more nothingness I have. Feel your body while it lasts, that spirits me too. And the end of anyone I will be hated coz who would flow for longer as the lost souls?
At the cuspid of the underworld were the legions bellow turns my river through out a landscape that we had fabricated along the eternity, seat on a rock out this hill thinking of her. Alone before the Universe whom smells back to me with an ironic symphony.
Yes, yes you would be out there I guess in the anti-matter holding the planet's elite, hugging us inside your womb, in invisible manner without being notice and as the beautiful body you gave me to carve out this lands a river let me remember how creation exploded in you as a bing bang orgasm of God. A God Father called Tartarus to me, a king of a burning hell such as the sun, egoist as no other God and realm, centred as the Sun, reincarnates to teach us from our sins. While you birthed me the realms you both had created for the illusion to return to Heaven, those Elysian fields were only truth is spoken and lived in divine harmony. How noble of yours to keep hidden from this cycle, indeed a circus.
It's not easy mother, call me the Goddess of Hatred if you wish perhaps your only talented daughter, enough with one Titan out of your's I guess. The first waters this world ever had, filled with bacteria and gases before the biological impulse of you two floated out into land. It's not easy mother, my husband Pallas keeps crafting you know, all Machiavelli and childlike at the same time in his Palladium and of me, well you see that it will remain unrecognised as you do, but wait.
Not before the unified theory is revealed you know, as they got to the particles and Quantum Theory now they can see you mom, now the anti-matter exist in this last decade of 2019, and nothing you cared yet, as the cortex of the brain is recognised as well.
The theory of relativity has driven reason to no extend, let me relax in the night of yours and thank you, let me feel beyond the moon the lullabies of horror and sweetness you evoke, is the unknown yet so mysterious to understand. How much do I know you darkness as for this river, is all it breaths for at the serenity of your bliss. How generous and sexy to have open such platform, how many particles can be collide in the deepest darkness, how much peacefulness and space you have given me to flow as river.
Mother, when all I ever asked you was freedom and you yet made me feel eternal. Mother, always there and here in the new night, would let me cherish your old age, you are beautiful to me as no tomorrow, do please stop hiding on your own when your figure rises out this vage touch I beg you to let me see the force of your palpitation, I'm yours mother, can you see the river Styx flowing through you and for you, century after century carving the shores to a new hell and heaven to the dimension father honours the extension of your power.
Mother, I'm now a mother too, miserable indeed having my children as Olympian Warriors at the airs of Zeus, oh! Mother please, bring them to me for Eos will rise in vengeance for this separation ones called for me to be a Binding Oath to the Gods and Mortals. Oh, mother grant me the power of your Darkness to bring death to whom ever stands in the way of my children.
VIA AETERNA
STYX Sedna Mortificare of Hell, Heaven as it's Hades.
Going to rock a little in here along the river, the goddess of hatred and last breath between life and death and each hell till the clits of heaven, hum... was kind of like wondering were the Ferry man is after all his travels and courtesies to the tax payers, ah! He must be counting his coins, flipping them too of course, never ever randomly for me is all going to the Binding Oath's of my nympho concubines... since Hades is so polite to Olympus and Persephone sings kindly to the nearly dead, oh dear, what a loyal couple! hateful as usually, what else for the agitation of the spirit to revive out the corpses. At least, we all have a destination, and this end started to surface that my river circles 9 times at time, as the Eden lets cascade it down, not to forget that at the same time its bliss crashes the lower ground, again is all over my body this water...agh
The upper world has nothing but sinful material, ashamed played all the misdemeanours, those minor wrongdoings starting to walk alone the shore to the tree of knowledge there as the water falls end, in the purgatory, I know were the ferry man makes the opulence, Therepupon, the triumphant chariot in its entirety is transformed after being trashed to pieces by the tail of the dragon. Every time the embodiment of mine emerge, thee its all bare naked watching the show for opulence, yes... This is the special spot were I love to God Mode and shouted out loud, again.. "You must pay the ferry man at every stop, with counted prayers, no one gets out of here without the influence of the river's currency VIA AETERNA!!!"
And the eagles and the scaled snakes took their price out the transmutation of every piece from the chariot, above as bellow my witty cunt. To the followers whom newly died, because the Queen of Hades can't manage, how will she stand to the number of only sketchily blessed spirits I account to see paying well the recognition of Opulence at the boundary of each continent.
The Golden Spiral Stairway to the ascension up mine, take it easy on the hight. AH! Followers, and you think your own car will relate... There are divine lakes up there, I'm moving on, never get stuck on traffic... jumping in the passage of the river down, my body curves in the air with a diving last splash out the tip of my toes, let them fancy the golden ladder, there are so many of my last souls I wish to last breath with, humm... the only swim I had ever possessed.
PARADISO
That angel seating with the records, so concerned with the question, unrolled the scroll that was upon his knees, points with his right forefinger at the rages that have been recorded, remarkably in his winged throne with severe unemotional judgement, I would put someone a little more melodic, a comedian perhaps but its the souls who can't stand a single stroke of imagination without taking it personal, to short eternity might say, we also need a brake. At the side, the dancing spirits welcoming those for whom families of noble craft, they guarded well and waited. Call me a classist, a tribalist depending were you are to hate me more, It gets me empowered, your relations matter! To me! As far as possible, please.
On the back the ferryman seat on his boats forging his hands for more, the heavenly delights is not the taste for the Greedy God, letting them souls watch the scenario, he was little of words indeed, no need too. The Opulence shows it right in your face.
At my pity and mercy, because it happens to be that this nymph of me loves to mingle out with the leftovers of society who could not pay the ferryman, swaying and fluttering to breath again in my last breath of hope, that last thing you loose you know but its so poetic when they start to get the fells that they actually could not bare it.
My suffocating Poor artists, and drug addicts. My fishy freaks too and how they call it now up on earth, the mentally Ill, no they are not crazy, soon very soon they will complete a round of eternity and pass on if not transform into the mortificare waters of mine as a watery fairy, elven or nymph, no mermaids but sirens to alarm the shores of my river and overlapping with each other take advances of all the hells and heaves.
Not, many make it, of course this for I'm here submerged.
They all role in my waters without escalations or degradations no more than they already had in the past, but of course it takes time to mature and walk the lands again, if not a God as a deity of supreme intelligence. Many are now out there at the limbos of the river Styx, and the Abbys too collecting thrilling action to other regions in their original name, that who meets the wise devil will find death is not an easy pointed end but a final abstract destination.
Hate me, hate death, the inspiration of a last breath too! You will all pay for not valuing the interest of the whole, one day the visions of my deity who proceeds the electrical algorithm of a magnet pulse who spheres in this whole, by it self, that of such luminosity won't stop, the dwell does not exist.
But listens to be, not even the angels of the higher hierarchy do, their principles are stuck in movement without the action of changes and ex-changes. Yes, yes some need to be closer to their God, it all has a ceremony to convince the workers. Or, are they in Holliday? Nah, they guard steadily diminishing beyond this. Good for the power of my rage! For my eyes are not yet able to discern a bowl from a holly grail, just that which is contained by the miraculous ambrosia, there is space for all to cheers, an amphitheater of states and who says non at any of them can be married, or in solemn communion, perhaps by any vow.
A the Empyrean drinking at the River of the Light, spear to stand out a rock, shouting without boundaries. "Breath me as if I'm God!" For those who believe in the coming is essence. "This Rose, oh, this rose for you who duel in paradise..."
Lowered down in a medium tone. "If you want to win me..." Shoved my arse and turned around for the flair is such, "...see inside the outer petals, there are indications to follow the line!" The river Styx had a name of her own to be known, the Binding Oath of Gods, Mortals till Nature, brake it and the furies will hunt you till last breath, not me.
It was on the night of the 21, that the spirit of Christmas showed up, its actually me who came to pick him up at his bed of his death, give him a little tickle, spooky cookie and a trip around, my greedy man. He had no other choice, I mean what kind of Goddess am I for anyways, but for a little spirited last breath.
Yes, he was a little grumpy, yes, he thought I was manipulative, since he was powerless to admit that I was the only one in his bed as the last night of him. My skin is a border, I wont sleep with anyone, oh, but his bed he was so intriguing to have him taken. I had to. "There is no other choice" And we all know the story of the Christmas Carol, by D*ckenson. What no one knows is that he swore his soul to mine, that much was likely to have me fancied, he liked how I showed him around and the children who seen him as a great generous God standing next to me, he invigorated becoming so gifted and young of spirit again and married me.
Then he became Santa Claus, the most jolly man on this season, yeah.... cherishing all the homes who wanted to be as him, they became connected to his heart and stories, so every parent talked about him, being him while they work hard to pay those toys and fantasy in the name of his.
That dirt's soil of compost of corpses after morph, fulminated paths under your feet, that cleaner the earth the cleaner it sands and rocks alone the less living bacteria and worms are as such composing entities without the commune two eyes of dueling polarities of awareness, jewels and dark oils to die for on enrich the spirit with too, but what was pulling him down? I will escort the source who is behind before him as the river revolved underneath the continents for those who seek it.
My body waved its shoulders as a pendulum stretching opposite to my pelvis who side my neck yet parallel to its very knees interloping a spacial movement, this refine hands upraised wide out cursing from my empty heart to the extend of it sides bringing my palm to palm together before my third eye and above taken by a dancing like of a serpentine instrument twisting devotion with the super natural the advocate to the dark magical forces along the occult arts pillars sheltering the invisible river.
Nothing is to see, the forest tightly held its creatures who balanced observant from branch to branch, opened paranoid eyes blinked as some other never ceased to close a 360* view, unfamiliar noises could be catch by any false movement, hysterical will attack for anyone who attains to control the instinctive happenings in the rules of the Enchanted Forest at at it's silent valleys and hills, nothing is to be seen unless you drop the knowledge of attachment,"Isn't it strange Doctor? is it this you see?Unless you survive the journey to tale it, might say I will give it a body to emulated an alternative experience of those who wet their toes in the river, without entirely flowing" And yet among the crown of his head and the both sides of his front and back could detect for a vision he might survive for.
"Will it be listen carefully after a thin string of light appears to remember the goal and victory to it all? When there is nothing seen for what you might return for? Record it to those if you must."Hammered with intrigue within his most profound desire for what is knowledge in here unless you are empty to let it flow through in an uncensored let go, how will you be able to recapitulate the essential transformation to return home or surpass the home you left?
Without a question, a rhetorical banging sound kept waving as my black skin shimmered at the charming curves int he night and the strands of my long black hair silvered through all directions out the center of a last breath's core, flesh of desired, consumed by power, flashed with purple flaming eyes who opened in a trance with a pinch of green fluorescent to the cannon's spectrum.
My finer tips separated from each arrhythmically, glimmering magic spells by shaking vibrantly the unspeakably mantras of the spirit above the shadows of confusion and chaos, along the little trues of suppositions and suspicious in madness, across murder and every pain that stops the flow, bath him with an immortal aura as to all those who stand by him in this blissful VIA AEATERNA who tastes most as pure morphine, intoxicated to the non pure soul to protect him from those in advance their acts.
"Such divine will grant you passage,... and oblivion to the pains of yesterday, as you experience well the addiction in the magical realm were one wants more only a few could here can convert into Gold from Rocks, you might honour first the Dark sources of the self who transcends through all entities, goodness is only a facade, a layer of Gold who gets overused by time."Singed while dancing half circles of the infinity number till rounded again, an inner shimmy alternately shaken from bellow my belly bottom out from the atmosphere, my eyes blanked out my body and mind, hated by the infernal joys of life, enraging the power of the travellers on this trip to fever till march.
The golden minerals had to be dig within the dirty soil, till sweat and fury as the highest transmitters they are to find the spells of enlightenment in both books, would it be a golden key, a golden code in a shield or in a marked rune? He knew too much and that might be an alternative for every sorcerer's escapism to the known, pausing the Styx will be there, kneeling down in adoration to the source behind, crawling silently into the depths, shouting with new breaths, watching without a tense, in my toes curl by body inside a ball of thick mist of shadows vanishing for you to bring up to earth a nobler eye to the keen spectator who in total wish gives to master without matter for that death leaves behind.