Scrimblings on a gifted "weed".

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Scrimblings on a gifted "weed".

Postby Mitra-Sauwelios » Sun Dec 17, 2017 11:41 pm



"If a loving one could, through loving,
deserve to be loved,
Love could be willing to heal me
by granting [that] blessedness."

Yet a loving one cannot. Only love itself is worthy of being loved--that is to say, loving itself.

What the love-singer desires is to be loved, that is, to experience love from the receiving end.

This is the reason for his plight.


Pride, the Sun among the Seven Deadly Sins, those heavenly bodies, is rooted in the concet of freedom.

Closely connected to the affects of Repulsion & Hate, it is priding oneself on being disconnected from the lower.

Good is the passionate following the Logos. Evil is the fruit that makes re-ligion possible.


The self-realised being is worth being. This takes the Left-Hand Path. But the Left-Hand Path itself takes the Right-Hand Path.

Only Lucifer and Nucifer can make Christianity hip. Only hooded Black Brothers can put the cool in "mea culpa".

My guilt, my indebtedness, lies in my path. Exemption, redemption is not my goal; herein rests my exemption.

My path is the right path, but only in running into heavenly walls, in re-turning. The evil does not go to Heaven, but comes from Heaven.

Hell is only the reflection of Heaven in the Ocean. The Ocean however is the burningly freezing cosmic soup.

Freezing or melting, are you frozen or open?



I'm thinking now romantic love is the selfish passion to think and feel oneself overwhelmingly fully capable of love. Yet that is not love. Love is awareness of one's own emptiness and that of others, too, warming oneself and each other by rubbing together the ice-cold pieces of dead wood that you are. In this awareness, the cold is not bad at all; freezing is also melting.

Romantic love is already qualified love. The love I mean does not need (desire) to be requited, let alone wallow in self-pity for not being requited, or being impossible, or anything of the kind. It requites. It knows itself requited every moment it persists--even if it doesn't know it. Our existence is the retroactive gift back for what we give--back.
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