sp3ktr

trapped in a mindweb, stuck in redundant loops, feeling the full force funk of the coming eclipse, i know if i just relax and keep my intentions at the top of my mind, when the full effect of he planets hits, it will stretch my mind wide open and let me take the new energy all the way to the hilt. What are you going to use the eclipse to manifest?

Underneath the facade of morality and chastity lay the boiling coils of snake like puerility. Those who deem themselves holier than though get caught hiding in a portapotty, peeking through the filth, screaming through meth clenched teeth. Those of us who embrace the bestial hungers find a path of filth, pleasure, and ecstatic release, unwinding the tantric rope like a cobra dancing to the snake charmers flute

this is nebulous at best, transient at its worse. Vague nighttime memories of a floating lotus goddess, blasting the skulls of nazarenos, eyes bleeding from the impact of the yonitastic blast. The sound of windchimes falling from drooling and ecstatic shibari bound nymphs echoed through the dream. I cant figure what the fuck it all means, maybe you can

the daylight is snuffed out like the last gasp of a forgotten smoke, the sky dome burns red orange like the ford pinto i crashed into a tree, splitting my head, and ruining my perfect bi-hawk. The sun shines bright and reveals our true selves, the bright ones shine brighter and the right ones shrivel under the harsh scrutiny of the light.

the vision serpant unwinds around the world tree, joining its mirror image twin like a strand of Dna, the energy moving up and out exploding like fireworks out of the crown. Our dark desires seek to channel and capture that raw energy and feed the fire in our belly, we slurp and suck at the serpants salty kiss but cannot swallow it whole, it leaves trails of milky poison tears in its wake

Day 207 of #submission , the muse is is a cruel mistress, the lightning bolts of inspiration strike me early in the day, the sky still dark from the absence of the sun. I start drawing before im awake and channel the dark gods, my pens drip dark cthulhuian magic as visions of dark lust chain me to the muse, drinking deep from her addictive well.

Day 206 of pool party dreams. As i subjugate subconscious to submerge my desire at the subatomic level, my psilocybin etched mind travels to recurring dreams of fabulous parties. I flit like a fairey chasing the dripping honey dew from dawns moist lips, traveling through halls of hot tubs and shallow pools. I reenact my role i often play in real life, pouring drinks for the parched, getting a lighter so you can smoke a bowl, and delighting you with my sparkling wit and undeniable charm. The dreams subside as dawn breaks and i wake with the salty sweat memories in my mouth. What is your interpretation of my dream?

Day 205 of flights of fantasy. Tripping through time and space, on intergalactic radio waves. Each turn a chance to gnaw away at the empty place you need to fill with whispers and exposition, penetrating deep into that crevice that splits at the seams. Your tounge dances over each noun and adverb with delight, mouthing each word of this un-finished chapter

Stardate 204, the story reads like breadcrumbs left by abandoned childred looking for the toys in the attic, the ghost of Roger waters impales a lil' smokey on a plastic cocktail sword and grins, the palace walls have fallen like the shittest nostradamos quatrain. The smoke clears and our sweet ass saviour emerges from the rubble to take us back in time