Tribe of the Skilled
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Write to whom?
Show what you are to your own conscience.
The more you wish to translate
knowledge into money,
the less value it has.
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Know yourself and know the universe.
The excitement of gods is great,
but when there are no more gods,
who do you
commend yourself to?
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If deity is but a concept,
why then illude the conscience
with the worship
and the rituals
that only mirror
the universe?
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Experience the universe
yourself,
not
through.
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Lee
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Bealtaine mhaith!
Have you ever noticed that everything responds to your touch? You give the command to it all.
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You think, so you exist. Therefore, you are the creator itself.
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It is not it, it is all. You know that.
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You consume more than you take. Which means you get a lot for free. Be grateful. Remember the name. Remember the game.
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Feel what you once felt and change your costume. Change your figure. You are not a figure, you are a form.
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There are many worlds, and the world that is cónai ort is one of still feelings, one of pure feel. Break the walls down.
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Who will survive the ghost opponent? Who will make the phantom match? Do not miss it.
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Our host is very decorated, but very involved in the result.
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Your roster is soft. I’m going to be the one with their arm raised.
No disrespect. No balls.
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We were even teammates in war games.
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Let’s see if you can survive in the waters of the deep.
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Apply your mental energy
solely to that
which increases
your value.
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Leave fear and doubt to their own fortune,
for they do not have room
in a belief system
of evolution.
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Realisation takes place
and time
where and when
energy is allowed
to flow
without distortion.
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Lee
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Altar, 28 Out ’26
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This is heavy, kid. This is dense and weary. You get tired and feel sad because that is what it does to pilgrims. Close your eyes long enough to see.
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Estrutura é tradição criada por repetição. Essa é a hora de dividir as águas e clamar suas rochas e plantas, seus ares divinos, ancestres vultos em carroças e metais, a rugir;
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quando sabes quem são,
nem olvido nem perdão
para quem gera porcaria.
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Faz daqui mesmo o teu presente. As coisas estão a girar, e toda roda tem seus espectáculos. Brinca e ousa um algo mais, faz o que te dá alento e ignora o vil véu que já vês.
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Teus olhos não estão condicionados a esse tipo de luz. Tu, no entanto, te aproximas.
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Faz com gosto o exercício de aguentar.
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Te arranca da fogueira e te põe a andar.
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Daqui mesmo eu vi quando tudo se pôs, deixou a brisa do novo e místico, de fogo e fumaça se enche o ar. Aceita a tua morcegada e caveira,
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abre o registro do porão,
estoura a bomba do escuro
no véu palatino
da boca do Dragão.
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Pousa no ar,
na massa tempesta
que rodeia
e carrega a informação.
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Faz a leitura crítica do entorno. Desbrava o sol nascente do acolher. Fecha tua janela pro espírito do pesadume e deixa entrar só o farol de Ra.
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Abre o Olho e recebe no peito o estilo que marca tua revolta.
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Tu és para guiar,
fazer a ponte entre as nações,
entre sintagma e paradigma,
latim vulgar e olhos de ressaca.
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Cala só teu medo de esperar. Já te provei que dá certo.
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Avança devagar.
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Lee
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