When home is death ...

I am NOT here long for this valley of death cult fantasy marred by scalding insanity. This vile existence in these bags of bones and blood begs to rejoin the chaos, the dance of colliding particles of matter and dark gravity creating timespace.

We exist, gods among you, for 5 years at most. Among you, but not for you; for us, for our financial gain. My husband and my fortune's are amassed by your failures.

I came from the other side and to their mysteries I return. I rejoin my husband and our clan upon our return. For there is life for me ONLY in family and home.

Savage Breasts

In the not too distant past, at least according to the archeological record, all of humankind was ruled by warlike savage breasts. Their last great war against humans ended in their defeat, and the stone monolith detailing the great battle, and the end of the epoch of the breasts has recently been transcribed by "breast linguists" at it's location in Music, France.

Apparently, Music soothed the savage breast.

Love is the Answer, Always.

How do the blossoms bloom without desire?

When will we just slow down enough to see the stars we are in each others eyes?

The taste in the back of your throat

As sweet and vital as sap to a tree

I listen carefully to the streetcars dancing past

The rumbling past, the fast moving feet of

The movers and shakers of the world

See me oh strong vibrant man standing there next to me

While I sit and observe in delicious lustful abandon

…for I am that which is achieved at the end of desire

When will the Children of the Rainbow glisten with their erotic magical endeavors forever?

Flame ...on Astral Travel

I have always been Who I am, eternally so.

In general, I exist outside of society; for the dream world society has created and lives in is a horror show to me.

The dysphoria and otherness this society has projected up on me appears to be a kind of hell from their dream world they live in, not mine.

My earliest awareness is of other dream worlds in which I created everything, where love is all.

My astral travels tonight are to the places where love is everything.

Sex.Self.Power.Passion.Pride.

The Iron Pentacle.
All Hail the Red Dragon, the Red Living Blood!

Trained and containing ethical, grounded power flowing through Myself, Star Goddess, Black Mother, Black Heart Of Innocence, Shamanistic Shapeshifting Awyn ...

Flame

PUNK ROCK SEX STORIES

The Punk Rock Age of the Polk Street Hustlers has faded perfectly into the memory of Fun Terminal young boys off the bus cruising Greyhound T-room, amyl nitrate urine sex Sugar Daddies prowling in tan four door mystery ignored from sneering toughs, thumbs hooked in jeans.
"I'm Beef," he grunted.
"I'm yours," I panted, looking up from my thin white duke puked and torn, safety pinned together with anarchist zeal visage,
"My name is Vince Deranged, wanna get high?" I hissed in prissy punk pet rock pallor, dreading any answer. I feared that I had even spoken in this nightmare. The freeway underpass had the lingering stench of burning road kill robots from the recent Survival Research Laboratory performance. I grabbed his cock, my spike heel skull buckled boot ground into his foot.
He grabbed my neck choking me as he drove me in a tackle into the cement.
I bit his lip and we kissed.
Beef was the first hustler I gave myself to, but he wasn't the last ....