Celebrating personal discordia and spiritual anarchy.

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"Anarchy is not intended to be sustainable. It is not a system of government, a codified list of rules and beliefs, or a mind set geared toward cultural constructivism. It is a spark, a flash, a small flame that ignites a paradigm-obliterating explosion. It is destructive by nature. It lies dormant and, like diesel fuel, can only be ignited by tremendous pressure. It deconstructs. It strips flesh from bone and grinds bone to dust. It is doomed to consumption in the conflagration instigated by its own primal spark. It is a catalyst. It is tinder. It is powder and fuse."

Rich Oliver

Suspended in the Snare of Karmic Agreements

Acting upon a pre-incarnational agreement is tricky business. It isn’t exactly a contract and, as a lesser agreement, is considerably less binding in nature…almost voluntary in contrast to the obligatory nature of actual karma. Tit for tat on a cosmic level, this lesson for that lesson, my gift for your gift. Sometimes it equates to mutual slapping and eye gauging in favor of a mutually desired, though often individually exclusive, set of learned skills or behavioral settings, insights or fallow talents. Why? I don’t know. The draw equates to love. The outcome to agony.

Lesson learned. Objective reached. I need many beers and more than a few titties to get past this one. Nearly lost myself there in a fucking bowl of crazy noodle soup. Lost myself willingly, mind you, and without power or will to resist. Selling of souls is less perverse and more rewarding it seems. (If only I still had mine).

That last intertwining was very destructive. I am injured deeply and fatally by its passing, a razor slicing through the viscera in my chest, a screwdriver pushed deeply into the grey matter of my squirming thoughts. I am the parched earth. I am the bleached bones. I am the slab beneath the emaciated corpse. I am ash. From this I will be reassembled and will live again. I hope I have a bigger wiener this time.