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."

dinner with choronzon

This is all up in the spirit, freely moving within the spirit, happy.  
I have a few times, known the frightening, bondage spirit, the revulsive thing, that comes with betrayal; but its nature is to stop even the thought of writing and of this kind of philosophy, and so what you read is therefore not that, but the joy of being away from that.  

I write a transformation of that.  
I kill that killing thing.  
All of my writing is reconstruction.  
Maybe transubstantiation.  
    Maybe art.  
The working out of my salvation.  
Yet that shuddering thing is close.  Without it I have nothing.  
The unspoken is spoken/still unspoken.  My words are totally false.  I am undone.  
Only God is left.  A stupid philosophy.  
But I have escaped death.  And I am giddy and lively in my dance.
There finally comes a resolution to leave.  The worry and wafting are done.  
The decision is made.  
On is leaving.  The firm, calm, peace comes.  
The thoughts cease to be about anything here.  
Nothing in particular.  
Only the spirit, and love and the awfulness of God are seen and thought of.  
It's chaos to the thoughts, but one approaches anyway, and the decision eventually makes it cohere.  
  It turns out that this new eternity is no different from this place.  
  It's this place going on forever, but with no hope of escape.  
There is no death.  No place away from the meaningless.  
But there is the beautiful firmness that has come.  
Through all the ill-informed-ness that has become you, there is now your resolution.

dreadnought

fɨˈnɪʃə phoenicia