Egoïste – 28

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He wants us to come to Him whole, but the only way to come whole is to strip away layers of our being until naked.

Naked souls with no garments of vices.

The ability to recognise your garments will determine how easily you can remove them.

That is the Egoïste’s aim, they want Him all to themselves.

-W.E.

Why you can’t see me

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If you’re concerned about my inattentiveness, it’s not because I’m not present, I am. I really am here, but not where you’re looking.

I’m the spaces between words, the lines between paragraphs and the borders between pages.

I’m the gap in your front teeth, the space between your eyes, and the area from navel to neck.

I’m the valley between mountains, the breeze skirmishing between trees and the wind beneath eagle’s wings.

I’m the silence between thunder, the quiet before the storm and the deafening after lightening crackle.

Wherever you look, you won’t see me because you’re so used to seeing only what’s manifest in front of you.

I work in the shadows, I walk without name, and I cannot contain myself, but you still wouldn’t know it’s me.

I revel in this loneliness, the silence and the anonymity, because even if I showed you, you wouldn’t believe it’s me.

I’m nothing you’d expect to see.

It’s quite fine by me, thirty eight years of it and it’s the only way you know after a while.

I have family, I have a friend and I know a few people but they see it as insanity. I see their snarls, I don’t fit their moulds, and their suitability boxes aren’t ticked.

But when the shit hits the fan, they remember me. The guy who can fight, the guy who can write, the guy who’ll stand up and the guy who’ll shout.

The guy who knows no fear, who lones it year to year.

I’m that guy you want by your side down a back alley, next to you when you’re struggling to breathe and consoling you when life gets too much.

I’ve spent all this time alone so I can figure out the things you all struggle with because you don’t want to be alone.

Over eleven years ago I raised my heart on a temple step and asked God to make me invisible. I said it like a child wishes for superhero powers in their daily role play amongst peers.

I wanted out of this world; I wanted a suicide, not of the bodily kind but of being seen.

I must have been granted thousands of wishes and had endless supplications in my life answered, oblivious to them all as I take them for granted. But this one request I had was heard and it has been the best thing that has happened to me as people literally flaked off my life’s shoulders and withered away.

As I have mentioned in another post, I have a very high wall. Since then, only a few people have climbed over. I value those people; they’re courageous and courteous to my nature. I can count them on one hand!

-W.E.

Egoïste – 22

burn for him

How far are you willing to go?

The devotion of a moth has challenged lovers for an eternity
The mad amongst us rise to the occasion.
They burn for Him.

For centuries, the lovers have jumped into the flame only to find it cool and tranquil like our forefather Abraham peace be upon him. They were not about to be outdone by a moth.
-W.E.

Egoïste – 19

contortion

How far you’re willing to bend will determine the magnitude of your love.

Love is contortion
You must be willing
to bend your mind,
body and more importantly,
your soul to suit it’s confines.
Real lovers do this without
being told.
They find Him
-W.E.

Egoïste – 17

extend His rope

When the fire of this world,
bellows it’s breath in your face,
allow it to.

Let it burn you enough,
so that you may long for its exit,
and back to the source of all comfort.

We’re insatiable creatures,
limited by superficial observances,
and experiences,
felt through the skin,
relying on the senses to guide us through,
but we end up disappointing ourselves,
over and over.

We dull our souls,
and numb our hearts,
to the exclusivity of worshipping our minds,
our intellects.

Ego has no limit,
it will indulge,
until it kills you,
whilst you walk alive.

Kill it instead, to live.

When it dies,
inevitably, it will be slow and painful,
you begin to revel in the pain.

Sadistic to a tee,
you’ll welcome the pain,
as the familiarity of cleansing,
visits you.

You learn that pain is expiation,
suffering is expiation,
grief is expiation,
but revelling in the expiation itself,
is arrogance, avoid that.

Once the trivialities are out of the way,
the fog will clear,
and the rope will be apparent.

All along it was there,
dangling before you,
waiting for you to clasp it,
and climb towards Him.

-W.E.

 

Crimson Veil

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Blood and marrow
Under her nails
She hid her secret
Beneath a crimson veil
Devourer of hearts
Emptier of souls
Elated his spirit
Set it to sail

Slayer of mind
Axe murderer of sorts
Intrepid assassin
Hacker of thoughts
Displeased with mediocrity
Bored by the mundane
Satisfied only
By his mort

-ME