18 July 2015- 4 June 2019

Acceptance of drinking hard liquor.
Nights at the Chateau.
Born of Chaos.
Baptized in light.
Raised by Creation.
One with the Spirit.
Loved by my tribe.
Thank you, Chaos.
A Shania Twain concert.
That mouth thing you do on uppers is a real downer.
People see what they want to and not what’s actually in front of them.
They came for a performance, how many actually saw the real show?
Lord High King Snoot might be projecting a lot here.
My partner tells me he hates the moon.
A retreat to a place within myself so deep inside that it is actually very far removed outside my person.
Able to retreat to this dissociated state of being without any usual dissociative substances.
Significant point; breaking the bonds between Here & There.
Immense amounts of longing for ones own Death.
Less & less able to fully return;
They say you go crazy looking up at the sky for too long.
‘Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist of creating out of Void but out of Chaos.’
Moon dancing.
Temporarily forgot how to shit.
I like cigarettes.
There is neurotic and then there is neurotic.
Ruminations on the violatory nature of a sigil drawn in the book prior.
X=Magick+Chaos×Willpower
Cat trees for people.
Returnity.
You understand nothing,
Yet you understand Nothing.
It’s simple if you stop trying so fucking hard.
I’m going to take apart Monoliths and Dimensions.
My house has four doors, can it be considered a sedan?
I am a tangent!
Dead dogs are quieter.
[My moons blood came as she did in all of her glory,
As I am surrounded be the vast expanse of ocean
That water calls to me; home.
Casting myself and feeling her power as I float
All as one
The connectedness
The oneness
Scrying the clouds around her as I walk through the darkness
That warm blanket of comfort
A Phoenix above
Then a crab beneath her
And as the crab dissipated the Phoenix remained
As a heart and a spiral formed next to him
And I search for the Riddle of Clouds.]
…is gravy a condiment?
[The Thing About Shit;
When shit really needs to go right,
Shit goes left
Because shit is a terrible navigator.
Totally stinks, at directions and then some.
The thing about directions.
Shit might decide to go left as fuck a few times in a row.
Two wrongs don’t make a right but three lefts do.
Takes you to
Experience.
A hell of a town to visit.]
My latest addiction is yardwork.
Another night spent not sleeping at the Chateau.
Almost-Monday.
Lurking presence of a disembodied Doctor of Pharmacology.
Where is the love?
‘To be godless is probably the first step to innocence. To lose the sense of sin and subordination, the false grief for things supposed to be lost. An absence of need for illusion. A love and respect for what is right before your eyes.’
I’d rather be insulted by you than someone I respect.
What the fuck is Russia?
My life is Skyrim.
9 Lives Katja.
My carry weight is enormous.
An exponential planar level of consciousness.
Dating a hippie.
Rude old gods.
Purple is not just a power colour, it is a coping mechanism.
Dosed with fried chicken at the Court of the Crimson King.
Who are you?
You are more than this.
A chalice of corn.
I am going to own a ski resort.
Last Resort, my first resort.
The answer to the Riddle of Clouds lies buried in the snow.
A reprise of the Thing.
Condensed water vapour.
Helmets are for people who don’t trust themselves.
Caller of Spirits.
Blood of the Black One.
Coinflip 50/50, ecstasy or violation?
Phantom Skyrim soundtrack.
Do not neglect Big Lint.
Cold fusion.
Grey, so many shades.
Squatting slavs in Adidas tracksuits.
A drone collaboration with a Pontiac Grand Prix named Jamal.
X, an exponent, being raped on shuffle.
Distractionary tactic.
Handwriting illegible.
Your intentions are true,
Pure,
Strong,
And that, my darling, is your weakness.
Dedicate your saving people nature for the one who means it.
Confusion is my epitaph.
Where does the line between fiction and reality get drawn?
There is only perspective;
Truths like dice,
So many sides,
Every facet equal,
Every side different.
Strength in numbers.
The Citadel has become the Cthanktuary.
Excessive parallel dimensions.
Foreboding sense of impending doom.
Handwriting illegible.
Thoughts create reality.
A choice between fear and love.
Overthinking a man telling me he loves me on the 1st of April.
Reality a cruel joke.
Silver Dragon has my heart.
I create this website.
Adapting to temperatures and climates.
Adapting to televisions.
What is this timestretch/compression?
Happening simultaneously over & over again but has never really actually been real,
This time-lapse stretch continuum type thing.
Is it fucking linear?
I attempt to make a chart of dates and important points yet again.
Infinite versions of us out there in peoples minds.
Pentastar.
Illegible due to cedar oil.
With money comes security.
Tribal didgeridrones.
Black keys.
‘Life is messy. As long as you’ve got a towel, you’re fine.’
Long periods of wordless existence.
Learning to play the drums out of spite.
A human with animal needs.
‘He didn’t write guitar solos down… it was organically evil.’
Who invented The Riff?
Keeper of the Lows.
The War Spider climbing the Drone Wall.
Strange space hieroglyphic writing near impossible to decipher.
You are a Glitch.
Who are you?
Lots of No One, here.
You stupid, cryptic fuck.
Tell me something worthwhile.
Some things just suck from day one.
Did apartments ruin the country?
More space hieroglyphic writing.
Echo of an aspect ratio 1:1.
Knowing we are not insane.
Attempting to process the Interdimensional Hitman.
Who are you?
What is less than less?
What could be greater in less-ness than least?
Does this assist you in discovering more than more?
…No One.