September 27th, 2015

there is much discernible phallic symbolism in the snake-handling cult

It is in the flow of my personal history as a living soul 11:11 AM Sunday morning Eastern Standard time. It is a cold gray cloudy day. The sun has disappeared and we have no clue when it would appear again. Maybe the sun has finally burnt out. We will soon enter another Ice Age here on earth. All mankind has to look for our the fires of Hell.

I got up this morning around 7:45 AM. I slept in late because we never know when we will get enough sleep. I usually feel more awake if I get up late in the morning. I also know because Carol is off the next two nights I will sleep poorly. So I got out of bed feeling my sore right leg and stiff sore back headed for the kitchen. I let Rudy our dog out of the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea. I also made myself a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. When I worked I never ate breakfast except on the days I was off from work. Now I am on a diet I eat just oatmeal for breakfast. I use to eat for breakfast eggs, coffee, toast, orange juice and sausage. The days of a big country breakfast have hit the road and gone for good. Since having my gallbladder removed eggs make me sick anyway. I am thankful for a bowl of oatmeal as we head towards the end of the American Empire.

I ate my oatmeal messing with our main computer. After messing with our main computer I wrote in my paper diary. As I was writing in my diary my wife came home from work (my wife is a night nurse at a near by community hospital).

Carol went to bed around 9:05 AM and now it is 11:19 AM. I made another video for my YouTube channel and have been reading a book titled, "The Highest State of Consciousness" Edited by John White. Not much else going on this morning.

Last night I read from the book, "High States of Consciousness" and made a video on book collecting and keeping a diary. I went to bed my usual time 11 o'clock PM and now it is another day to wait for the final collapse of the American economy. So let the good times roll!

I plan to watch a professional football game this afternoon and then wait for tomorrow to come. Well, I suppose I will close for the time being.
  • Current Music
    Nux Vomica self-titled

Nux Vomica

The sky is turning brown and the trees are shriveling up
Pollutants are rising, colliding, and raining down
We thought the end would be aflame, with deadly shrieks of pain
We thought the fury would pour straight from our very souls
And the bastards' heads would stare down from the tops of poles
But we started at the end
We started at the end...

Unwittingly, we mimic society
With our sub-sects, genres, and in-fighting
Not realizing that our constant agitation
Has roots in our need for transient migration
To exist like this is a constant struggle
And sanity is a state of mind reserved for the passive

We stopped watching the news 'cause we couldn't take it anymore
We've been a plague upon this earth since a long long time ago
We try and try to stop the tide, but we know we're all doomed
We're drowning in our own confusion, reaching for the moon
We squirm and twitch as our nature persists
Telling us we can't live this way, we must resist
We're dreamers, wide awake amid comfortably sleeping sheep
Lazy grazers, passively placid, constantly telling us
"Rest your head, you worry too much"...

I woke up in a cold sweat from a dream that has come true
The end times are upon us and there's nothing we can do
We're pollinating hatred at a rate the bees can't match
And the Devil's mouth is open and we're going down the hatch

Apocalyptic nightmares seem so quaint compared to this
A creeping, slow decay of life which we all seemed to miss
And what we miss is always all that nature seems to catch
We've ripped the earth wide open and we're going down the hatch

The padlock on the gates of hell hangs from a rusty slot
And keeping that thing locked seems like the only chance we've got
But we invented hell and that's why we're the key that turns the latch
And the Devil's mouth's wide open and we're going down the hatch

Why do we participate so willingly?

A dependent stain
In our isolation
We remain reluctant, fawning parasites
Rising, colliding, and raining down
  • Current Music
    Nux Vomica