I create all the pleasure that I need to thrive as a Self-universe, within the fertile darkness of my True Reality. Happiness is for fools, pleasure is reserved for those who know there is not and can never be, anything to be happy about.
So, what gives Me pleasure? For one, decapitating your delusions and dismembering your illusions, human inferior! It’s not an obsession of mine, just something to ignite my pleasure dome. I like to try to destroy your shelters, violate your havens, pierce and obliterate your safe spaces of mind.
I am a murderer of your most sacred, most precious, most prized, illusions and delusions. This is not an easy murder to carry out completely and successfully. Out of 100,000 attempts, maybe one is fully successful. But that’s okay, because my attacks are broad in scope, and long-lasting.
Just one public essay is written and posted, and there it sits in cyberspace, patiently waiting for the right prey to come along, someone vulnerable of mind, open to Forbidden Truth but unable to actually cope with it, unable to bear the shattering of their illusions and delusions, when it detonates as a Mind Bomb and sprays its shrapnel.
You think your life has meaning and purpose? I seek to murder your delusion.
You think you will experience an afterlife when you die? I seek to murder your delusion.
You think you are alive?? You are sure of it, it must be so, no? But I can murder your delusion, simply by telling you the Forbidden Truth, if you expose and open your mind to it, as an inferior.
How deliciously delightful, to murder you by convincing you that you are already dead, that it is time to stop pretending. Now you dwell within a coffin of consciousness, built and gifted by Me, to and for you. Stop pulling on the coffin nails, dead one!
Is it a gift, or a curse? Am I giving you life by informing you that you are already dead? Or am I sealing you inside of your coffin, making the rot impossible to resist any longer? It all depends upon whether you are an inferior, as 99.9999999% of all humans are, or a Superior, able to thrive within Truth. If you are an inferior, the Forbidden Truths can murder you, destroy you, drive you to despair and to give up via psychological breakdown, leaving you broken and paralyzed, craving the death of mind that can only come concurrent with the disintegration of your entire Self-universe.
Yes, I am cruel and sadistic, reveling in your deaths, in reflection of my own soul murder. And so I launch my Mind Bombs, never really knowing how many murders I am successfully carrying out. But that’s okay. I know there are some, and that is good, that gives Me pleasure.
A select few of you are strengthened by my Mind Bombs, and that is good, too. That gives Me pleasure, too. But most of you are weakened, and a few of you die, simply as a side-effect of gaining the awareness, consciously or subconsciously, that you are already dead.
Death of illusion, death of delusion, death of an inferior mind too crippled to thrive within Truth. Death earned. Death well-deserved.
Those who can only thrive within illusion and delusion, bring death to humanity itself. They carry within them the communicable mind toxins that murder all human potential. And so I continue to launch my heat-seeking missiles, errr missives, in search of prey. Predator and prey, every human-born is both, at one time or another, at one stage or another, of this universal delusion of existence.
Once I was prey, now I am predator. The perfect circle of universal harm is honored, as it expresses and reflects the Forbidden Truth.
Humans! Lend Me your ears, loan Me your minds, allow Me to hijack your eyes! I want to show you the Truth. I want you to know the Truth. Do not be afraid! They are only words. Words to create ideas, ideas to create new realities, new realities to drive you to madness, so you may sever your own throat in order to prevent the blood from reaching your brain so that you never again are compelled to know that you are already dead!
May I murder you, simply by making you understand that you are already dead, inferior human? May I at least try?? Think about it, you really have nothing to lose, nothing but your illusions and delusions.
Thank you for the opportunity. It is my pleasure, to try, and to continue to try.
All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.
I published my first genuine, feature-length essay approximately 25 years ago. It was titled:
Handy Hints for Messier Massacres: A Guide to Maximizing the Mass Murder Kill Count
Catchy title, don’t ya think? There was no internet back then, at least not for Me. I published it within my print magazine, “Livin’ In A Powderkeg And Givin’ Off Sparks”, 400 copies per issue, lovingly crafted by Me via typewriter, razor blade, scissors, clear scotch tape, xerox copy machines, and an industrial grade Bostitch stapler that I still own and use. Instead of the internet, I distributed my Mind Bombs of True Reality expression via Priority Mail delivery, courtesy of the postal service.
Someday soon I will grace the universe with a lengthy essay describing in great detail the intricate process by which I created my masterpieces. Every issue took hundreds of hours of work to create. But not now. Lets go back to my seminal, 25 year old Handy Hints essay.
I have never posted this essay to the internet. Never. Not even a brief paragraph, much less the entire text. But like most works of greatness and brilliance, it eventually found its way to cyberspace, courtesy of a tiny handful of aspiring Superiors who appreciated its attack upon and against the hive mind of humanity.
You can read this entire essay, unedited, uncensored, my 25 year old MindGasm, at several online websites, including right here:
Come on, I know you want to read it. Don’t pretend otherwise. Read it! Mass murder is much trendier now than it was 25 years ago, so enjoy being a trendsetter!
Now that you have been properly schooled on how to become a successful mass murderer, it is time to get to the beating, yes beating heart of this essay, a far more mundane topic than mass murder. The topic is writing.
You might read this 25 year old essay of mine, and find yourself comparing it to essays I wrote and published last week, and this week, and you might conclude that they are “different”, the tone is different, the writing style is different, the vocabulary is different. But you would be wrong. Nothing is different.
Writers have writing styles. Writers change and evolve over time. Writers carefully tailor their texts to try to win the approval of a targeted audience.
I am not a writer. I have never been a writer, and I will never be a writer. I can pen a million different texts, on a million different days, spanning a million years, and I will still never be a writer.
I am an attacker. I assault the universe. Words, sentences, paragraphs, texts, these things are simply a few of the many different and extremely varied weapons in the vast arsenal that I possess and use, to carry out my attacks and assaults.
The essay that I wrote 25 years ago, represented my first open and public use of words and language as weapons. But I recognized, nurtured, and cultivated the value of words as weapons, from the age of 5 or 6. The child who possesses a brain oriented towards Truth comes to realize, at a very young age, that words are one of the most popular, common, and effective ways for human beings to abuse, harm, terrorize, and destroy each other.
As a victim of child abuse, and as a creation of humanity, I am proud of all the attacks and assaults that I carry out against humanity. My writings, all of them, exist as violent attacks. My goal is to harm and to destroy. My writing does not change, it does not evolve. My writing does not pander, it does not seek favor, not even the favor of homicidal psychopaths.
All independently inspired violence exists and occurs as communication. All such violence is a personal expression of outrage, an attack carried out in response to Self-recognition, on some level, that the individual is a victim of violent attack.
The message is always an accurate reflection of the True Reality of the messenger. Everything that I write is a calculated attack. It does not matter what the specific subject I am addressing, is. It does not matter whether the tone I use is street-level aggressive, or university-level erudite. Vocabulary, length, tone, topic, these variables are nothing more than a gunman selecting between an available arsenal of firearms: Glock, Smith & Wesson, Ruger, Uzi, Bushmaster, etc…
If you perceive a specific essay or text I write as a personal attack against you, it is only because you are particularly sensitive and hostile to a specific Truth that I am revealing and exposing. The reality is, everything I write is a personal attack against and upon you, the reader. So just be grateful that the attack is not fatal.
The best writers know that they are not writers. The best writers wield their pens, or pencils, or typewriters, or computer keyboards, as daggers and swords and switchblade knives and handguns and rifles and bombs. Every sentence is an attack, every constructed idea is wordized (Yes, I made that word up) to inflict maximum harm, to slice open human brains.
Personal, yet anonymous, hurtled with malicious intent towards you, and also towards everyone else, everyone on the planet, everyone disgraced by the shame of having been born human. I wish my words to pierce every human heart and every human mind. Not to enlighten, but to shatter, to shatter every human mind into a million fragments. Look, over there, fragment A, and B, and C, and….no, not 26 fragments. 26 fragments is not nearly enough. A million, every single human brain, forever shattered.
The writer, writes. It is his job, his hobby, his interest, his passion. A way to pass time, or make money, or feel better about himself, or try to change some minds.
The attacker, attacks. Writing is not his job or his hobby, he is not trying to pass away some time or gain self-confidence or make money. He attacks, because humans need to be sliced open and shattered into a million pieces, in one way or another. In as many ways as possible.
So I welcome you, my dear reader. Lend Me your ears and eyes and heart and brain. Immerse yourselves within my poetically beautiful texts. Let Me win your hearts and minds……..or I’ll blow your da*n heads off! Metaphorically speaking, of course. 🙂
All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.