samedi 8 juillet 2017

Old Odin


   ...and it's this manner, we speak to each other. These voices we hear in our cavernous heart, where without some outward glance cannot be defined some immoral prejudice. Our thoughts are not our own yet we engender them continuously within the Middle of the earth. To each the other, gliding in the astral air, invisibly apparent. 

   We can go where the earth is never cluttered. No atrocious concrete edifice can blind us from the sky vault. We are eyes in the aether. The wings of which, animate the four winds. 

   Odin the wanderer. Oh villain boy! Bearded, blond and lost nowhere. What is it with these nine orifices. The stars clinging to the ceiling. 

   Would you penetrate further, the heavens would flee to make room for you. You would walk on Hell's untiled roof. The devils inside the dirt waking could finally cleanse their inner sense of things. The skin crust could just fall to the side, May flowers appearing on their backs inclined.

   Old Odin young like a new born goat! Laughing in hail. Tempests bringing the good news : floods and fire. A chance to rebirth on a higher sphere inside another Hollow Earth. 

   A cheater, a liar and like a ghost reaching through the summer grass under a coming thunder storm!

   This is quite good for your health. It will dissipate the melancholy. Be a bad boy when a pilgrim. Where the world Judah built does not deserve your kind.

   If it's Chaos the jew wants, then it give to him. Tomorrow belongs to us.


The eye in the wall is ours.
Staring you in the face.