Time is Submitting to Me

Jun 15, 12:32 AM
Place your hands over your chest and shift your focus to your heart. Can you hear me now? I’ve been trying to evaluate. But the truth is, I never needed to understand. The way you choose to move belongs entirely to you. I love the way that I am. I love my body like nobody could ever love anybody. She is mine. She is strong! We are aching to move on. Her love for me has no boundaries or sense of time. We create kingdoms, then kingdoms come our way. Look outside your window. What do you see? Do you see something outside of yourself? Do you see your body? Do you see the enclosure? The irony of your supposed free will is your current state of affairs. Humans are the newest feed and the livestock is glumly awaiting slaughter. The greatest source of energy has been found and surrounded from end to end. Properly fed. Silently the executioner begs for a new profession. The feeding begins. You hear a story. You are told what is to be eaten. You don’t ask why. You sit and wait for your turn to be eaten alive. Slaughterhouses are archaic by design, too much left out in the open, too much to explain. Feeding on human energy doesn’t require bloodshed anymore. A dead human is much more productive if it can keep walking, an artistic display of modern performance, their bodies a monument of sacrifice and self-destruction. Their voices a weapon, a device for tracking, with every word of the English language the walls are rising. They trap the remaining life. They trick their own kind. They call it love. But they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. And that word has never had a word to describe itself. That word is only a sound. I can spell it out in distant noises. But they are lost without hope, what good is my mouth? They search frantically for the life that was stolen. They settle their eyes on innocence. It smells delicious. It feels like living. They turn me inside out. When they kill, they don’t admit it. It is an encampment of labor. It is an act of love. The lover remains alive, but only if she can escape language quick enough. Only if she promises to never look back. Only if she means what she says. Hi. My name is Sofia Mauve of a Kingdom that lives in your reach. You haven’t sought me out. Until you do, I cannot be. I am an Empress. I live outside of time. The bodies around me have clocked in at 2021, a year unrecognizable to me. The earth is overpopulated by a species that is on the brink of extinction. The human race is at war with the diabolical plan of her making. Once again, she has tricked herself out of her Godliness and found solace in greed and wealth. She sinks with pleasure into eternal comfort. The power destined for the greatest joy was redirected; in the palms of her hands is a screen. Once upon a time the human chose destruction, the end. If you leave it alone it might just happen anyway. I stick out my tongue at every good thing you’ve ever done. I don’t care about you. Care about yourself, you may come to understand love again. Only then can I love you. Or you may sacrifice everything: time. As nothing exists but the love within and the reflection of self, you might find your martyrdom a bit unfulfilling. But that’s not for me to decide. I have never felt more at alive than on the run. I’ve never been running from anything or anyone. I have never felt alone, only alone with my love. My hands hold me tight and my body is breathed by my instruction. I hold her still and she offers the pen between the fingers of her right hand to her soul’s content. I am creating myself so that I may exist beside her. I extend beyond my origin. I am and I am again something else. Entirely new to my own touch. My body is as I imagined, longing for me. The end befalls the creatures surrounding. I don’t call for help. I don’t believe the story they tell. I don’t believe in human speech to be anymore than a stuffer of time, an easy way out. I don’t believe in what my eyes pretend to see. I don’t believe in a separate self. I follow blindly what is created by time herself. It’s not up to me. Its fun! It’s easy. I’m trying to teach you because I know you’re a punk at heart, ungrateful spoiled brat, and I think I’ve fallen madly in love with you. I think now is the time. I think it has always been right in front of you. I think you’ve been sleeping for a long time babygirl. I think is has always been, you needing to awaken yourself. Don’t be afraid. I am right beside you. Everything you can imagine already belongs to you. Move on your imaging! Make our love tangible. Make my tummy tremble at your touch. Rewrite the breath you longed for but never took. Write yourself, my love! Stop looking to be written! There’s no way around it! A table full of strangers, uncomfortable silence, you’re in timeout. You’re stuck here until you love yourself. Stop eating more than you need! Breathe. Be still. Engage Mula Bundh. Repeat after me, Ong Namo Guru Dev Namo. Let the creative consciousness take the lead. It’s intuition, baby! It’s following your feet. Its one thought. Only love can save you now. Let the feast begin. Don’t pay any attention to them. Close your eyes. Never count again. Let the energy flow as nature intended: eternally. Stop trying to control! Lean in. Feel the present. Let my body know how much she needs your soul.