My usual self;)

Pale colorless notes echoing in the distance from the inside, subtle omens interpreting some treasures of my excommunicated faith… faith residing within, drumming a waking beat from the borders of my flesh on the outside down to the only core of things that is me. Energetically engulfing my usual self, encircling me from all sides, surrounding me, pushing, beckoning!

That bottomless well of my absolute self is built from alchemy as my key of understanding nature, and the occult as a pathway of grasping all possibilities of the soul. In there I come to realize that life blooms outside of any circumstances which create balance. There I subjectively exist, willingly accepting change as an only guiding force against the dissipative occurrence of rust and the inertial causality of senile dementia. In that region I thrive…

Imagination, being my existing drug of choice, unfolds new principles of existence by challenging my reason, deafening me!

… a naked deconstruction of this narrative me;)