For Our Lord, without Whom all Thought would be linear and all Feeling would be fleeting.
Blessed are the Madmen, for they hold the keys to secret knowledge.
Blessed are the Phobic, always wary of that which would do them harm.
Blessed are the Obsessed, for their courses are clear.
Blessed are the Addicts, may they quench the thirst that never ebbs.
Blessed are the Murderous, for they have found beauty in the grotesque.
Blessed are the Firelovers, for their hearts are always warm.
Blessed are the Artists, for in their hands the impossible is made real.
Blessed are the Musicians, for in their ears they hear the music of the soul.
Blessed are the Sleepless, as they bask in wakeful dreaming.
Blessed are the Paranoid, ever-watchful for our enemies.
Blessed are the Visionaries, for their eyes see what might be.
Blessed are the Painlovers, for in their suffering, we grow stronger.
Blessed is the Madgod, who tricks us when we are foolish, punishes us when we are wrong, tortures us when we are unmindful, and loves us in our imperfection.
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Despite my complete hatred for everything that I am, the multi-verse does seem to keep blessing me. If I had balls, I'd make all the worst decisions right now, then cast them unto Christ AND WALK FREE. Alas, I'm a pussy. I fucking hate pussies. I should have been put down long ago. If I'd been born into any decent fascist state I'd be dead by now and would have no problems. Perhaps these 'blessings' are curses. Fucking welfare. Fucking food to eat. Fucking some random friend lets me fuck his missus. Fucking music room. Fucking computers. All these so called blessings keep me going, that I might go on suffering. Seems that we are all cursed.
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The Contest of Wills
A mighty wizard named Ravate once walked the Winds of Time to find Lord Sheogorath. His intent was to win a favor from this most capricious of the Daedric Princes. Upon finding Sheogorath, Ravate spoke humbly to him, "Lord Sheogorath, I beg a favor of you. I would gladly drive a thousand men mad in your name if you would but grant me the greater magical powers."
Fortunately for Ravate, Sheogorath was in a playful mood. He proposed a game, "I will grant your wish, if you are still sane in three days. During that time, I will do my utmost to drive you mad. It shall be great fun."
Ravate was not so certain that he liked this new deal. He had been really looking forward to driving a thousand men mad. "Lord Sheogorath, I regret having disturbed you with my shallow, selfish request. I withdraw my unfortunate plea and will humbly leave this place."
Sheogorath just laughed, "Too late, mighty Ravate. The game is afoot, and you must play." Ravate fled, only to find that all exits from the Daedric realm were now sealed. He wandered aimlessly, constantly looking over his shoulder, jumping at every noise. Each moment brought new terror as he waited for Sheogorath to begin.
After three days, Ravate was convinced that every plant and animal was a tool of Sheogorath. He hadn't eaten or drunk for fear that Sheogorath had poisoned the food or drink. He hadn't slept for fear of Sheogorath invading his dreams. (Which was foolish, as dreams are the domain of Vaermina, may She grant us Restful Sleep.)
It was then that Sheogorath appeared to him. Ravate cried out, "You have set the whole world to watching me! Every creature and plant are doing your bidding to drive me mad."
Sheogorath replied, "Actually, I have done nothing. You have driven yourself mad with your fears. Your delusions prove that you are truly deranged, and therefore I win. While you wanted to make a thousand men mad, I only wanted to break one man's mind, yours."
From that day forward Ravate served Sheogorath's every whim. Whenever daring travelers try to approach Sheogorath, Ravate warns them, "Sheogorath is already inside each of us. You have already lost."
Madness; run towards and away. Run away and towards.. it isnt the madness.. it is the fear of it..
-------------------- And thus begins the reverse-fusing of our one-dimentional understanding, and adds ever-expanding perspectives, in depth and number; splitting our perception, and in so doing, seemingly irrationally, creates yet more one-ness, with all that ever was, is and will ever be, streching across the infinite, inunderstood concept of everything, percievable and not.
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