Apotheosis of The Heart

My beloved, as you have obeyed and served in my presence but so much more in my absence, find your way out of the pit alone and reach towards salvation on your own. I love you but I feel that I can hate you even more and though these polarities are but the same and draw themselves to one another, I cannot look upon your countenance without a sense of doubt. I'm your sheath as you're my knife, I hold your matter and control your force with a carefully designed whiphand, crushing down like Autumn rain on withered petals.

There is a place which no one knows, a certain place where no one goes where you are alone into the great Unknown. You swim through endless seas of negative light, wade through troubled waters just to reach the sight of something with a purpose, something with a better view, where there is no iniquity, where everything is new. I am the engineer of your soul, the mastermind with blueprints dressed in codes, signs and fashion catalogs. I pour myself from right to left, downwards to the very edge of quantic disproportions and hallucinogenic lies.

I am not the averse state of bliss you try to make me be, nor am I shelled beyond and trapped like you by trans-organic entities. My light is full and in extension, it encompasses both all and nothing. I am both positive and negative tetralemma and my very essence defies all laws of logic and of reason. I am both murderer and victim, divine lamb and infernal butcher. I am not your crutch or other kind of traveling commodity. I am not only the parts which you choose to see. I am both static and dynamic; I am free. Yes I love you boundlessly, but also hate you enormously and I cannot stay much longer just to see you get more closed, losing your form and giving into the transparency of self-deceit. Á dieu!


To Augustine of Hippo, the latent theosexual saint.