God’s Monsters

They say that I’m another you.

They say that I’m another you.

That we are all One, like stones cast off of its source to live individual existences. They shape and contort with the passage of time so that we may take on different shapes and qualities, so that we may experience the illusion of separation. Even so, we are all made out of the same fundamental stone.

Some of those stones are lost in that illusion. They dedicate their lives to deepening it, and on capitalizing on it. They don’t know, or they refuse to acknowledge, that their artificial power is a cheap imitation of what they, what all off us, already are. The course they’ve paved with blood has taken them, and everyone else, farther and farther away from what already is.

And yet…

And yet the collective One, the original stone, is aware of all of this, and loves all regardless.

That’s what they say, anyway.

I’m not in a position to understand any of this, and maybe it’s supposed to be that way.

Art by Mr. Fish

Recently I was inspired by this post “We Are All Witches Now” by Jennifer Louden, who writes

It's Not Too Late

.

“Bad actors try to wear us down with chaos that leads to despair.”

She is right, and there is more to say.

The real reason why they burned witches alive is because they, we, work with real power. We dig down deep into ancestral roots, deep into the Earth, staking a prominent position amongst the cosmos and all it has to offer- as above, so below, and vice versa. Real power isn’t intimidated by illusions and false narratives. Real power can’t be controlled, and this is a threat to fake power.

Fake power is always intimidated by real power, and seeks to destroy it. There lies its thirst for blood. Fake power is asleep or cut off from what is already inherent, and it must construct a false, superior power with a master and its subjects. Fake power seeks blood, and yes, it is a form of dark magic, dark energy work. This weakness prevents them from utilizing avenues that already exist, and what they fail to realize every time is that when everybody burns, they will ultimately burn along with us in one way or another.

Women don’t need to spill blood to feel powerful, especially not with all this old blood. We already bleed every month against our will. We bleed for the children maimed by the weapons of the western world in Palestine, Ukraine, and all the foreign countries the war machine used for its own benefit. We bleed for the children sexually assaulted by their priests and their family members. We bleed for the women who died for us, whether it be in labor or at the hands of men. We bleed for the destruction of life on this planet, and how we’ve desecrated that which gave us life.

We are powerful, and we are not cowards, which is what allows us to feel and overcome pain.

God’s monsters are cut off from this kind of pain, and such is the way of the psychopath, as pain becomes pleasure, and with it all the false narratives within every bent religious cult, corrupted science, and institution.

Art by Vellectrum

So many are still asleep to this, that we are in hell and sharing the air with those who insist on it being this way. I see many people say “How could somebody do something like that?” or “Why is that person like that?”. They can’t make sense of it because they are not like them, and God’s monsters are not operating as they are. The only way to make sense of it all, the rise of fascism and the unrelenting repeat of human history, is to have the courage to look directly at this shadow and see it exactly for what it is.

The only important thing for you to walk away with today is this:

You are powerful. Our financial and governmental institutions work hard at making you forget that, either through the numbing sensation that comes with consumerism, the distraction of sown division in the form of race wars, or through the helplessness that comes with catastrophe.

You, in fact, have all the power. If not, then God’s monsters, who are cowards, would not be doing everything they can to make you forget that. When you go out to protest, either at the city hall or in your every day life, armor yourself with the blood already spilled. Armor yourself with all the sacrifices your relatives made to get you here, all the senseless suffering and all the wasted life that fell at the hands of injustice. Armor yourself with the damage done by bombs, drones, and police brutality. There are rivers of old blood to call upon in the wake of this fabricated horror, and while they grapple at ways to keep inciting new blood, we can use their old massacres against them.

This is how we shift the tides.