Sexual Minds and Their Demise

You can be the most handsome man, the most gorgeous woman...but if you can't bring anything to the table beyond aesthetics, there's going to be a problem. We're told to idolize one dimensional people with fake body parts and personalities; that our shells should be dazzling, or we're worth naught.  
We're force fed skewed beliefs then vomit them on various platforms.  Perfectly trained to let media do our thinking for us; lobotomize free will and replace it with a television. Stay in line, or maybe revolt. Follow the leader. Simon says boycott, Simon says riot, but just enough to anger to other side. Just enough to ever fuel the fire of division. Simon says. 
My god. 
Put down your phone and talk to me about the cosmos. The overwhelming enormity of the Galaxy. Pick my brain about the utterly faulty way we go about dating now, and how commitment has become a dirty word.
Let's discuss books- better yet, let's read the same one, separately, then come together and discuss it! An actual book. A novel. The kind that you don't have to turn on or charge, but requires a hand to turn a page, and imagination to create a minds eye movie of the authors tale. 
Genuine thinkers and creative minds are in scarily low supply these days. I'm not just talking about men- this is a PSA to anyone who will listen. You can have rock hard abs, the most reblogged thigh gap on Tumblr, whatever it is that society has told you makes you relevant and defines your worth-- but I'm here to tell you it's a complete farce.
If someone combs your mind and all they find is regurgitated Kim K quotes, or Scott Hermans diet plan, (paired with a handful of dust bunnies), then I'm sad for you. It all means nothing. Sure, there's nothing wrong with a rockin bod with great definition and striations, or 'the perfect fishtail braid', but offer something more. Be real. Be YOU. The things you pin on Pinterest don't define who you are as an individual- you do. THAT'S who I want to know. That's how you'll leave your mark on what's rapidly becoming a carbon copy society. Intelligence is sexy. Individuality is sexy. Creativity is sexy. Being who you are, regardless of media and societal pressures....
That's fucking sexy. 

Your egotistic delusions of self waste

I am the shadow, fading into silence


I am the words you shoved in a box


I am blood, sex & violence

behind the symbol of peace


I am light enraptured unto the void

from a thousand years of cosmic darkness

chasing the souls of stars


I am the mirror you wish to avoid

with the tears that coiled down the drain

& the years wasted on nothing--

but what you thought was yourself...

Author's Notes/Comments: 



Once the world was the center of the universe.

At least it was considered to be, back then.

Then, a revelation in some person’s mind

transforms the world’s view of the cosmos.

The birth of science brought still more complex

understanding of the infinite and infinitesimal.

Yet there is always also a state of calm

between the chaotic periods of discovery.

There are pauses wherein curiosity is satiated,

and the masses accept their place in the big picture.

Except at the same time, nearly every single day,

Nature humbles the human mind once again.

One cannot help but think, that if history does repeat itself,

it is inevitable before the next calm comes rolling along.

Even more astounding, it is unimaginable what

the next idea to shatter that coming silence will be.

Our understanding will never be complete.

If so let us hope, Curiosity, is a force rivaling gravity itself.


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Dream Waltz



They dance.

She twirls, as he caresses.

He caudles her efflorescence


sets the tone,

embodies and balances with 

scales of mystery and secrets unknown.

She flourishes in this heaven

of ageless suspension

and bubbles from her innermost depths to 

secrete with agape 

the sustenance that nourishes her very 


and all 

borne through her

exquisite yet deeply penetrating



Ninety five times her size,

a faint ring of the sickle, 

his spiraling girth grazes

her pale blue essence 

and Moon 

as she succumbs to honor

her rightful place within the 

gentle folds of aethereal frolic


cosmic majesty


 The Earth from Saturn

(The Earth and her moon as seen from Saturn)


Celestial breath

 to be mimicked

in every dimension

through inexplicable

phases and stages,

raptures, junctures, 


and culminations

of astral storms.

Pulsating in unison 

to the 

rhythm of all that is,

and all that was,

and what will be.




 The thunderous,







heard only among 

the timelessness 

that man can 

but only dream 

to touch.  


That which he may have no 



but can only


for the




07/28/2013 ©




Author's Notes/Comments: 

Photos by NASA, and


About the Earth....and Saturn


Poem inspired mostly by teachings of Astrotheology by Santos Bonacci

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After the Golden Age


Chaos should not cease

To dominate the world.

O yes, Nyarlathotep;

Will rule!


No wish for harmony,

Of its Golden Age;

It was before the Fall.


Reveling in constant disorder,

But Yog-Sothoth prefers reason;

Giving His first allegiance

To the Daemon Sultan: Azathoth

Remembering old times of this God.


Cthulhu does side with Him,

But Yig supports Yog-Sothoth;

As Father Serpent of the Cosmos,

Who invented this very world...


Yog-Sothoth has sympathy,

As Dagon; the Deep One Lord

And not even he can say

What will happen when there remains

A Princess restored on Her throne,

A Princess on Ebony Bone.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about what happened after the Golden Age.

my ode entitled whispy clouds


Whispy clouds

Drawing down



Electrical storms


From no thing

Means everything


Butterfly effecting


A part of

Amazing love

Blink of eyes

All the skys

Forget six days

Fractions; second

All this creation


Our fledgling



Years to plan

Out of nothing

Blink and miss

Creation of this

Still expanding


So intricate

Made from

Love not hate


Dark exists


Teach lessons

Encourage actions

Befitting heaven

Free choice thing

You choose suffering

Choose differently

And be free

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my ode to starseeds


ode to Starseeds

tell you about being a starseed
not all it's cracked up to be
cos not all emissary's of light
shine a beacon of bright
some treat you like a toy
not something you would enjoy

and they freely admit it too
do you think i'm talking about you?
things messing up without explanation
starseeds, residents of most nations
fascinated with the multiverse?
i'm betting a starseed family curse

It's no curse in a magical sense
just a deal done in the distance
between a previous life of yours
and your chosen star system cause
don't worry, most are amazing
ying yang, bad apples in everything

can get rid of quite easily
like the ones finally free from me
you get Archangel Michael too
cut all the chords attached to you
but you have to ask a third party
as control everything your cosmic family

Implants in your pineal gland
elsewhere too, very prevalent
Umbilical chords also connect you
to your cosmic family this is true
warning though,if decide to loose
your cosmic family WILL DAMAGE YOU

not on purpose, just leaving stuff in
glad now gone, only lead to suffering
Pleiadian emissary's brought their bots
i'm so grateful, got rid of the lot
now no longer a Pleiadian starseed
of cosmic family: totally free

But I re-iterate most are nice
and can give you loads of advice
fix things,maintenance, re-pattern your brain
think like a dolphin; Truly amazing
loads of other things they can do
even the bad ones obliged to help you

so ask your higher self today
if your cosmic family are causing dismay
and if they are please get rid
and i'm happy to be lifting the lid
not all light beings do shine bright
some play with their charges; tight

your higher self will always be
a reliable brick of invisibility
get a pendulum and ask your higher
6th density self if your in cosmic mire
and if they are get archangel Michael
to cut the chords of your personal hell

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Earth as a Star in Another's Sky

Alas! What can I do but keep reading?
To be known among men?
Hark! What a folly!
Cosmic significance is a goal yet unobtainable.
When shall a means reveal itself?
Our futile searching is but a quest
where the objective is known
and therefore as diminutive
as our thoughts.
To work unconsciously in harmony
doth construct
a grand château,
whose apex breeches
atmospheric boundaries
and leads the way
to a vast space with
the occasional point,
perchance bearing other beings.

-Ryan K. Fuller

Author's Notes/Comments: 

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