In an ancient space there are walls that cannot be defined by the confines of time. Here all words rhyme, although unspoken. Life is a soliloquy of moments strung together like orbs bonded by webs. There is no place like home. We can surrender every moment to this knowing , this eternal encampment for all that is. It is rare to go here past the time when we are kids. After we have been told that we are his, hers, theirs, shallow, vein and bent on success, but in the orbital web none of this is left. We are striped of our flesh without loosing our humanity. We come to understand the true meaning of things such as vanity and sanity. Here Katun rules, sets the rules and we trust, because we truly know we are nothing but dust collected in the lungs of life eternal. When we come here we deeply learn the meaning of the word maternal.
Vernal saints rise in the trees and true pilgrims fall to their knees. The song of the Mother is on the breeze. Please take these. These gifs of knowing that prove you’re empty and awake and God’s fool.
We are all the jester of the night raid. We have no clue but we engage in the charade. Would we join the barricade if we were wise for our age? What is better rape or rage? Saint or sage?