|i'm a soda jerk, cute as a knuckle-pie.
||[Oct. 19th, 2004|10:37 pm]
|||||crown me king- the dog-stars.||]|
sovereign class is the illuminati's way of saying "worth 9 or 10 supermans." its the eye in the pyramids way of saying mordicai, in other words. because there may be better, & there may be others? but there is still just me. what i'm working with, i use better than anything. its like size doesn't matter. how big the blade? is secondary to how sharp it is. who sharp it is. & by the way i have a big cock. sinead o'conner rips up pictures of the pope but i rip up angels, i rip up god. i rip off angels, i guess. because i'm trying so hard to find a way to talk about the hive. about our perfect pagent. but what would you know? all you get is my trying to tell you why the sun is named anak & the moon is named balor. i mean, there is so much dnd mixed in with my secrets. but what the hell is the use of revealed knowledge? it ain't occult if it ain't occluded. if i tell you that baraqel revealed astrology to men? thats me talking dnd, thats me talking about nothing more than a hi-jacking of mythology. same with shehireen, you know? but when i talk about, i don't know, the harlequin or the wounded queen? harken to me oh children of adam, children of anath. it won't do you any good, but then, few secrets do. or to put it another way: its too bad she won't live-- but then again, who does?