Posted in Consciousness, Earth, fiction, space

Relik – Preview 2

The first major expedition back to E-1 yielded aetherialyte. The valley (of the kings) appeared much different than I had remembered.

The ancients had hidden their secret well, but not well enough. Location and excavation was made simple by the fact that our guide had ruled over these lands before the sand, and now ice , covered his kingdom.  We later discovered that the stones had been placed under the sarcophagi of all Egypt’s kings, and with astral travel now possible, our goals now appeared to be a touch more attainable.

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Posted in Earth, fiction, poetry, space

Relik – Preview 1

2153 A.D. , the year the last remaining permanent residents abandoned the Earth. Guage remembered the ships exiting the atmosphere towards their solar destination, as the lunar outpost, from which he observed, had long become uninhabitable for humans since the cooling of the sun…

Posted in Consciousness, Esoteric knowledge, poetry, spirituality

Divine Discovery

If, in the quest for divinity, you do not discover yourself, you are searching in the wrong place(s). True self is transcendent and independent from the human vessel. You are an immeasurable energy, unbound by time and space, existing everywhere and nowhere all at once. Safe travels my friends.

 

Image: mutequacky

Posted in Consciousness, Esoteric knowledge, Morality, poetry, truth, Uncategorized

Journey to Center

I have no excuse for this behavior, and therefore will not be providing any.  Expectations will be equivalent for those who cross or embark on this expedition. Inquisition and criticism are not only welcome, but required. The voiceless will be spoken for, however those reluctant to speak will be expelled for their deficiency. No leaders, JUST followers. Followers of conscious illumination that conspires to extinguish the darkness they have reigned down upon us.

 

Image: Artist Unknown

Posted in Consciousness, Esoteric knowledge, Healing, Uncategorized

Memoryall

Fire lights the sky.

Dirt, soft  from burial.

No need to cleanse this new skin.

The eyes, they feel the same, though they are not.

Ever-changing shades, how different the scent.

Courses, taste bitter as usual.

Over consumption bleeds exhaustion,

Frailty and bruises sink, no room in the shallows,

My hangman, the Windsor, is calling.

 

 

Image: Alex Grey