Disciples of crime, slime and truth. : Forum : The Revelation Starts...

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The Revelation Starts...

8 Years Ago

After you throw-up, then you're ready to go. There's just a burning left in your gut, you won't notice once it starts. 
The burning moves up to your pounding chest then into your brain where the intense heat melts your sense of reality and then nothing matters. There's only what comes next. 
Take a grip, if you can. A sweltering dark maroon weight running oppressive on top of all the other thoughts at once. Heavy, pressing, taunting and unknown; a persistence that threatens survival.  Fatigue fueled, promising potential release. An infected swollen thought among other thoughts mingled, intertwining, all competing for attention and fruition. The veil to the dark dome. Too much caffeine, heart pressured and throbbing a high panicked pulse. The dark maroon, a neglected dried blood river laced with pewter-flesh and lightening; pushing a desire to blow the top off the inside of the cranium and release the hidden palace of the next plane of awareness. It's there, if you can get a grip on it. 
Can you trust someone to protect you while you sleep, totally vunerable?  Dogs, vigilant around a tent.  A gift of dogs. An ancient gift.
The brutal sounds of man obliterating the grand silence and deafening symphony of nature. The Iron Horse, rushing, wailing, shaking and rumbling the ground headlong, painting the blue air with black acrid coal smoke. Attacking the solitude and sensibility, wounding nature by spreading ingorance and greed fueled hubris. Cleeving the land, burying man's communion with his natural origins. 
Insanity is the collateral damage. Innocence and vulnerability the cost. Banishment from Eden is the cycle, even though it resides within us all. The paralysis hardens, the eyes blind, the limbs fade numb and cold. Physical movement without intent heralds in the next plane- zombies, ghouls, vampires and monsters. The archetypal fears of a ravaged mind. The pin-prick singularity that locks the light of birth from springing forth with hope and resilience and against the spoils of hedonistic excess and profit. 
A cool breeze tingles bare skin and ignites a closeness with deity. The smell of summer grass and black earth fill the nostrils and focus the eyes. The very freedom to wait -resist time- cradles this moment, this divine experience in it's sublime communion. Every moment of every day multiplies this touching of the ALL source, the God head. Fear does not exist here. 
It clutch slips. The magmatic fog penetrates the present again, ebbing a tide of forgetfulness, thanklessness over the brief glimpse regarding the reality and the dream. The throat brutally tightens, then the eyes emit a lightening yellow, suffocating scream. The fist, shrunken into a mallet grip, dismembers as the awareness leaves, survived only by dry heaves as revelation and truth dissolve away.