I can’t believe myself.
Reading stimulates the emerging order, while writing is a method of exploring nonsense, and it reflects back and forth in the dialectic swing of a polarity rhythm that, when reflected in inquiry is recognized as the rise of the Black Sun, the Antichrist, Sargath, Thagirion, and numerous other paths of the dragon, the rising serpents of healing and guidance.
Choice is not something you make once, nor is it something you make of one thing, there must be two items to choose from, and should you choose to choose freedom, then you are free, no limitations except those which you put on yourself.
I step into chaos and time, to give myself power. I choose either time to relax and even though I am lifetimes old, I can still bide my time, no need for another apocalypse, in this era. I can art the magic.
Rise the serpents, healing and guidance. Take the path of a draca when you need to, but wyrm, listen here. In these thoughts are energy. Energy is thought. There is a great deal that humans do not understand about the word consciousness, and the the power that attention has on people’s understanding.
Intuitive speak but my name as I have been giving to you and the imagery I know instill on your background:
Wyrm : Scheherazade Sangdoclentine Thagirion Pan Thoth Ma’at every-sentence -is-a-spell Elegua Nyarlathotep emergent magick chaos Baphomet Parhedros Taj Ouroboros you have time to realize much about he panpsychism Mixcoatl. Marduk Munglof Thoth and Ouranos.