Darker Moments of Love

Do not even the collosal winds of the Godly zephyr blow through your heart?

Do you walk astray on terrain unknown?

Do you murder your soul with incessant stabbings of dispair?

Does not a single strand of love sweep your face?

Do you walk without direction? Without hope?

Is there no one left to tell the story of luck?

Is love, here, long forgotten?

First Draft/Brainstorming of One of Many Philosophies Concocted by a Disturbed Young Delinquent

This is just totally written of the top of my head, and has not been looked into detail, i will inevitably extend this to be a lot less precarious then what it may first appear to be as you read it now.

I believe the idea is quite concrete, but can be manipulated to specific perspectives. I may also change my mind over time, so do not use that as a valid argument against me. Also, do not use my own words against me, cause that does not submit a valid anti-thesis in my eyes. Moreover, do not use my ideas and twist them. This will inevitably happen, but please try see the full meaning of what i am writing. I will also do my best to explain things to my utmost ability in the posts that i post and also in latter posts.

Here goes:

Life is lived in retrospect. In such a way that it is like walking in a forward velocity, backwards. It is quite ironically hippocritical in a logical sense. We look at the past to determine the future. Our thoughts are just dogmatisms created by the analysis of past events. We do not live in the now, this is impossible, but rather we like in the past striving for the future. This is inevitable.

In succession, if thoughts make up who we are and the only attianment or proof of thoughts comes from 'a priori' or simply prior events, then the logical sum is that the past is the only true evidence of 'Self'. And, if 'Self' can - in logical order of study - be our concious, and therefore our concious the only way for us to know that we are living (something i will go into detail, hopefully, in latter posts. The whole idea of Descartes' 'I think, Therefore I am'), Then without the past we would be mentally dead. In the fatalistic meaning of the phrase.





Hope this stirs some minds.
- Boki

Walking With The Devil

I haven't written forever. But fuck it. I'm writing now.

Here's something i wrote not long ago. And, i actually have a name for it:

Fearless

The rain is heavy with fear,
I cannot see clear.
The rain is hard to bear,
I cannot see over there.
Angels, give me the strength to dwell,
Where you yourselves fear to tread!
Heavens may you open up your rays of welcome,
And me, i hope you will beckon.

Let evil fear the wrath of light,
Shining on its ominous soul so bright.
May the earth beneath my steady feet,
Not crumble when i face hell in all its heat,
May my soul be full of grace,
When i arrive at the gate to the devils face.
'Leave All Hope Outside' it will say,
Its arches rooted deep, in a dreary dirt-like clay.

With a courage of a thousand wars,
Letting go of all my flaws,
I will enter withour fear,
Even when hope is so far to even hear.
I will walk on the ashes of death so vile,
Without a strife in my stride ill go it for an endless mile.

And if death were to meet me there,
At the cross roads of my own dispair,
I will not falter,
I will not drown in the deathly hallows water.
I will not halt!
I will not take his welcoming bread and salt.

For our love is my effervescent drive,
The one on which my hope and fearlessness thrive.
Hell itself cannot destroy,
Nor rip and burn,
Or throw away like a toy.
Nor the devil himself able to prevail,
With his wicked wit, and perfect charm; he will fail.
For i am omnipotent and always tearless,
With your love, I am fearless.