Happy holidays. Let us all rejoice the sun of god, victory of sol invictus over the madness of the moon.

sphere of the sun tiphareth/splendour. all is gold. a long great work. memetic programs cutting burning rapine across time and space. a cattarpillar consuming it’s leaf to fuel metamorhosis. Butterflies flap their wings and create a hurricane. standing in the centre of a storm, cold cutting winds and yawning abyssis within. stillness, balance, the point of revolution. this is the nature of tiphareth. this is where we begin to know ourselves. this is when the Art finds us for true, when angels step down from heaven and lay their hand on our shoulders to gently show us the way.

These waves of hunger and ambition and murder, or reason and progress determined to burn out the madness of birth and death and the mystery of the goddess. These waves break on the shore of slendour. the shores of the victorious one. of alchemy made flesh of syon of all grand ambitions, all weaknesses of the heart purified in the flames of splendour without diminishment. All horror and sacrifice consecrated in love and forgiveness of angels. They have always loved us and always will.

someday you will find me, caught beneath a landslide, in a champagne supernova in the sky.

surrender is victory, naked in the light of angels we find our true will, we wake from sullied dreams of ourselves and place our feet on the path to infinite beauty.


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