What if in his image?


If you were made in god’s image, what would be that truth to the greatest degree? What truth would he see? what is the first thing god could ever speak? I wonder, oh wonder; the root of all evil, would you be my bride? cuz the first time I woke up, I saw my mother by my side– But I wonder, of god; if he would so be; telling me that where I came from, is that sin I inherited in me? How could I know of my true nature, if my true genetics obscures me! And if the story was important, then certainly if anyone adored it, then such would have served its true purpose!


Oh, eve of all evil, pee upon people; I see what the golden shower is for– That I have looked hath the wrong place all my life, that you had told me you were of the night– But how would, how would, I know of the sun? How on earth on earth would it have begun? Well, one last question that I wonder of all logic, if the image of fractals is part of the process; awe sex, is at the hot of the topic; cuz if the story is important, that the story needs to be honored– But this story has not served us; and we do not want it! Oh, shall we sing, what a glorious thing; what might this whore of the world, that brings the world to us think! And mother, OH my, oh my mother; I wonder did I love you, the way you loved me? I hath not be able to even laugh!


Cuz I loved and I loved, and what this was; was that I always tried to make her happy! But oh, no, I wasn’t doing her right! But that is unfair, untrue; but even worse than not being wrong! cuz I would sing-song after song of my pain; and she would leave me hanging, but one or two times it would seem in my life– And mother of my other half-witted self, how could you, how could you, love me yourself!? Love me, don’t fuck me! Who could you love, if not me you were ever-loving, but always the self you wanted, nay; fucking needed me to be!


I tell you the image of fucking god that I see. I see a dead god, of cancerous roars; telling me of her death, a not so sweet damsel in distress, but I dance around her like a ballerina on the porch of my life, that touch of strife upon my gripe, and this I didn’t recognize was the true devil upon my shore– Cuz I had seen my mother, the fucking living whore; and held her place in my heart undeserving on and up high; and I held her head above mine, under the blood of her unholy fucking vagina that gave me birth to a life I wish I even believed in fucking death to kill myself and end this shit a long fucking time ago, but what the fuck it’s like everywhere I look; AND THOUGH I AM NOT AFRAID OF DEATH, REINCARNATION SCARED ME ALIVE–


And I realized that there must have been a god, that left something behind– It must have been a joke, and came out a little wrong; and by the time we got to here, the lover of our southern hell bound fates upon the underworld, and I let her led me toward the core of near and far, and that is when I might just think– I am I want; and the first thing I saw, as far as I can see every pointed to, is that I was meant to meet my maker; the moment I feel alive–


And then I realized the truth of Christ, the leader of them all– Why would they hide that feminine lineage, if we were in the image of what we should know! And then I realized why I knew death, because perpetual birth is the birth of knowledge of the wisdom, of wisdom creating knowledge from his mind– S

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