I feel it so deep down within

I will be rendered unto death not to some kike archon but back through and drift apart into the wide great rushing current of the soulful darkness. Back into this raging storming blind something of an aquatic sense. Some have reported it when going into further astral words. It seems to me that no matter what, i cannot lose this hallowed channel, obscure and lunatic connection to the mad rushing something of a world, or a pocket, dimension of sorts, soulful darkness. Art departed. Expedient within. It is indescribable. Each night i feel the soul. I get drunk and inhibit the brain. I lose myself in this indescribable world of dreams, of less-than-material existential state, that hangs the normie, that foregoes all basse sinful cravings and fleshy nonsense. Don't worry bro, even i struggle in understanding it sometimes. Even though I feel it, i have trouble connecting to it. I find that the best way is the mentally impaired state, well, in a more particular sense, an exhaltation, a transcendence within the dark rushing current of inexplainable self. Am i repeating myself? I need to reiterate. Because it's important to understand that first of all, you won't understand what i'm blabbering about while sober. The world of sobriety is not the one my words tread in. You have to feel within you something that indeed is qualifiable with dark, strong, rushing, spirit, aquatic. I cannot explain. It is like an android which freaks out in secret because it found the Soul. Bad example. Remember i can't use words!
That it the Soul connection. The hallowed channel. Sobriety sucks. It gives you all kinds of shitty stuff like inhibition and self-control. Impulsiveness is rather spiritlike. And i still crave the black moon. The black flame. The Ideal. The true soul of witch house, in its greatest dark age. Just like Veils is like post-witch-house. The heyday of witch house was good because it cherished that connection. Nowadays they don't even understand it anymore.
Every day i hate normies. My hatred for the soulless and the base grows. All i want in existence is to connect. As if it's to become one with the Allbeing. I have a need for true art, and by that i seem to mean scraps of SOUL left here and there.
Isn't it such a coincidence? That when i look up VEILS lalala i decide to misspell it lalla and end up on TINARIWEN? "Lalla". Every so often they come back as if to tell me i'm not completely lost. They need to understand that i am lost, as long as the hallowed channel is not open and flowing strong. That i don't feel the night ocean. And no, not an actual ocean at night. The astral understanding of this place, whatever it may be. You'll find it raging, storming, alive, awake, but black, dark, barely visible, baseline.
On some subconscious level i am probably begging to be let go astral. Looks like they don't listen. And you know that begging is for slaves in any case. Instead i love the cold again, the temperature, Ahl Qulb, the base as in riverbed. And the heat, when it'll come. Now, in my neethole, I am dreaming multitudes. All manners of worlds and places i am dreaming, here. Had a dream about being held hostage by an orwellian system in an indoor swimming pool. We broke out and i flew off escaping as hard as i can. It means something, you know.
Still i feel like no one else is awake with me. Who else gets it? The soul, the deep, the hallowed channel. Which one of you will escape the pool with me? Why are you all out there so voided? So emptied? So lacking of the most important? Sometimes i wonder what these assholes see in the mirror. Probably just what they think they are.
I didn't think i would be experiencing loneliness on a spiritual level. What a terrifying sensation. Get me astral now.
Where the fuck did witch house go? They say the genre is alive, but being a living organism isn't enough. It has to exist. It has to be connected to that which made it. Indeed its soul. I keep thinking that i'd be more at home in death. Maybe in the future i will be rescued by a noble one. But still cynical i doubt. INFPT

I pray, I pray! That I may never lose my hallowed channel! That I may never forfeit my connection to the Soul, not just my self, my depth of being and more, for that is I, and IAO!



And to add onto that, two days later, i detail a new-and-coming dream world which i have weakly managed to do core channeling with, still not enough but good for starting out.
Magical botanica world... globally spheric habitations made of old-school glass tinted orange, purple, but sometimes blue and indigo, and also just transparent. These are made glasshouses by the haphazardly arranged pots and plants, and potted plants, here and there, many of them magic, few poisonous, fewer venomous, arranged onto the stone slab floor, which laid in a wistful chaotic pattern.
It is basically a magical facility of sorts; i had flashes of some learning and being told This is natural magic. A great descriptor, as the element of nature defined that place. The rooms are seemingly impulsively arranged, with no serious plan, although it is not chaotic. Some place, the open glass-domed rooms border facades cut into bare rock, as if some straight cliffside, to open into a narrow corridor. There it goes underground, to all sorts of other facilities, and i came unto mostly storage rooms for supplies, monkish offices, and bathrooms. There i was also hiding that i was a contract-taker; and on more than one occasion i found myself hiding from anyone in order to receive or see appear before instantly designed space a Hideous Bilot which was like a small black grimoire or slimy book, giving me a page stating the contract and then vanishing before me. One such contract required me to establish contact with the one who made it, so i walked out and it was one of our supervisors... i walked up next to her right looking ahead, then turned my head to look at her, and in a shocked realization whisked me away to not be exposed. She gave me a prepared little booklet of a few pages, i remember one bottom side being cut out like a castle top. I was meant to meet someone again... at some bar, and to do a specific set of things, supposedly to establish contact. Well.

Out by the glasspunk greenhouses, there are, in some corners, stairs expertly cut out from bare rock, probably magic indeed, and leading up to perhaps more than one level. I saw one level, when i snuck up a short while being about to wake up anyways. If you look up, you would think it is nighttime, because it's dark out, until realizing that all this is underwater. It is a serene, peaceful place. The temperature was comfortable.
I felt that i had to locate something of magical significance in this facility which presented a contingency, and which was probably not an object or anything solid. At the top end of the stairway i saw to my left with weak certainty some walkway like a corridor, made mostly with glass panes supported by other opaque material, going to other areas. Straight ahead, i saw for sure some more window panes showing the outside underwater, and one could make out other areas of this botanical station floating in the blur. It wasn't actually floating but built into sandy ground. Below those windows was a darkwood sofa, cushioned in dark gray colors. It was laid into a corner which bent to the right, and at that corner was some sort of apparatus. Past that and more to the right, this wall that made the corner, a doorway in it leading to just an office room with more walls made out of glass panes. Then past the doorway more orange-ish wooden wall until it ended up on more glass panes, and this was to the right of the top of the stairway, there was some sort of indoor semi-balcony, although really just some outcropping and didn't give onto the level below. It was quiet, there was no one there, which is typical.
Back to the apparatus. I rushed towards it with determined steps. It had a deep blue bowl built onto some furniture. Said bowl was large and thick, rimmed, slightly iridescent, oscillating between indigo, navy blue, bright neon blue sometimes, but it was static, the color did not actively shift, it was when the light hit it in different ways or you moved your head across it. Over the blue bowl, there was some kind of magimechanical device pointing down into the bowl. It looked vaguely metallic and had some knobs and gears to twist and turn. Now that i think about it, the whole place had a multicolored Cigani gemstones feel to it. This device itself was kind of typical of the mental mood and ambiance of this world. It was very indicative, and there was lots more stuff that felt like it. Am i explaining this well? Look, some items have a steampunk feel to them, right? Well. I can add there was a touch of caribbean pirate aesthetic a bit everywhere.
So i moved up to the device, stepped around it, sat on the dark sofa and plunged my head over the bowl. I didn't put my face directly into it but close. Looking i noticed it was containing some other colors such as pink, fuchsia, aquamarine, but it's as if these were just trace amounts of some liquid material that is due to the use of said machine. I was looking down into the bowl however as if looking into a scrying or divination cristal ball. I was looking for something. Trying to locate something.

It was all imbued with the aquatic element, as well as dirt, earth, nature, wood and glass. There was brick, stone, red fiery brick, warm even as cold, comfortably dusty to the touch. You would not be walking a straight line in the terrariums and the gardens. It seemed to have mostly been dark out, except for that one flash of daytime where the adepts were cutting grass or something with their wands. It was an exercise, some assignment. They were told that the wand itself is no more that an elaborate stick, a piece of wood, albeit a very personal one meant to focus their magic. Perhaps someone snickered at the idea of an intimate stick – i realize i'm in a classroom, one of its walls is glass arranged in flat hexagon cells, the desks are old-school tables in orange wood just like the wide-planks floor, there is some cristal ball on a metallic spiral-looking pedestal out front at the teach's desk, we're all wearing robes, – Yes, it's no coincidence! The wand is essentially the symbolic embodiment of the masculine principle. You do recall the old pictures, the paintings with the monarchs holding the staff and the scepter. I am lost again. Where did teach go? The adepts were cutting away at a grass square, really a rectangle, bordered with white stone slabs, in some small interior plaza surrounded with flat building faces, weakly like castles, feeling french, the sky is cold winter sunny blue and open, in white porous stone. Back in the dark rooms of the plantation, the feeling washes back to me, i note the lighting being artificial although i am unsure if i ever saw any. Logic, no, worldly nature would have it that there were lanterns there. There were some white neon tube lights in the underground hallways and their own areas. I continue.

I was looking for my chinese underwater vaporwave album but i guess i lost it. It's supposed to be on youtube somewhere and is about 40 minutes long. Title in chinese characters and image background is cyanish sandshallows. I'm trying to find it but it's gone. It was supposed to be the page song... Well, i'm listening to underwater/subnautica ambiant, so you too alright?

All in all, this world pocket has reaffirmed my wish, which is to escape this world and make my own. I can now justify my life: i collect material... so that i may dream better.

I have a thing for greenhouses now. Underwater greenhouses, steampunk greenhouses, cyberpunk greenhouses...
A wistful world...
And i was surprised to find some really similar pictures reminiscent of what i saw back there.


:)