Xepera, xeper, Xeperu

"I have Come Into Being, and by the Process of my Coming In to Being, the Process of Coming Into Being Is Established."


In every religion of sacrifice it is always the pure innocent that are given up.  
Their suffering and death take away the sins of sinners.  
Sometimes I am the innocent; sometimes I am the sinner.  
Sometimes I am God; sometimes I am the accuser.  
The slaughter of innocents never ceases.  For the glory of God.  
He slaughters his own.  He himself goes down to this hell.  It's relentless.
A religion of sacrifice is beyond all reason.  
Our holy books have failed to make sense of it.  
We wait for a stronger light.  
Until then I cling to unreason.  
To bad writing.  To wallowing in spiritual lust.  I refuse all moderation.  
I will be wild. I, the very timid, the dreamer, the polite, the good boy, by writing these few words I will be wild.  In my stillness.
All philosophy is adolescent writing.  
Even if it is hard logical analysis it eventually arrives at the very words themselves.  
That a boy, because he knows the mirror, has said to himself speaking before the world.  
He knows two things that are one thing.  And one thing is magically two things.  
He knows that language has the power to speak nothing at all.  
More than the professor, he knows that he is all those things.  
Unlike the professor, he falls so God can catch him.  Philosophy falls.  
He will show him how.
It's all so mechanical.  
The one disappearing into the many disappearing into the one.  
The ars combinatoria of Raymond Lull.  The heart suffering from love.  
Working on our cars.  Nothing quite fits.  The perfect fit.  
So sleek and trim and fast.  Pure grammar.  Active and passive.  
And they speak in their middle voice, alone, in-caused except from out of themselves, the despised.  Work them way into the night.

ars combinatoria

Silent Geometry