s.wordthruheart

Nobody knows who Shakespeare really historically was, but that has absorbed so much attention that nobody has even thought to wonder about his cousin, a peer and playwright in his own right and completely written out of history. But in their time, he, too, wrote many fine plays, some of which were performed, all of which, in time, were completely destroyed and forgotten with his tarnished reputation. In fact, it is likely some of the plays attributed to Shakespeare were his cousin's. His cousin was ever in Shakespeare's shadow and rumored to be less of talent, but this was a matter of taste and debatable. He certainly didn't know how to appeal to a crowd and this was reflected in his approach: he would obsess over a minuscule detail and completely lose track of the work, sometimes for months, even years, and this tendency only worsened with age. As such, he was not as prolific, but, it might be assumed, far more incisive with what he did finish. Shakespeare's cou...

 Spoke the Devil in Phrases Retarded:     "Gather around you old-spirited thwarted          last generation - all must go!" "He threw my heirloom out the window!"     she cries to Bathilda, her devoted maid,     telling the sorrows of how she wouldn't get laid A fire! Red sky at night is the sailor's delight,     But red sky in the morning - "take warning" He beat his drum until she suck my thumb     And I hum ummmmm          "They had nothing to talk about"             Bathilda gossiped as she stood in line              At the Firesale everyone wanted a glimpse of the Host     with the Most         who'd drawn in the Lost             pulling everyone out from indoors                 at Last And the world was reborn in Fi...

The Teutonic Knights are technically still around, though apparently, evidently, completely diminished in power. Are they? Speculation: maybe they've moved on from war and state into something invisible but actual. Stripped by Napoleon, outlawed by Hitler (both, ostensibly, probably not really, agents of real revolution), they seem to only diminish and diminish over time, like the Freemasons. At the same time we know that the trend of power has been to recede its true throne from view, and, where even 10 years ago an average person at least maybe knew the general direction to point in, now we've lost the thread to power entirely in a murky fog of "misinformation", distraction, and virtual realities presented before us. Possibly, if the Teutonic Knights' real tradition is one that traces power and not its form, they have followed this ball lightning through its many forms to keep a hold upon it in real-time, and are now involved in holdings that outline the true sh...

Memo For multiple reasons we are compelled to send out this memo explaining our actions. Not as a kind of release notes but out of necessity born of the consequences themselves of our actions. This process is not new to us; we know that what we will point to is precisely that which must remain unseen – but a civilizational restructure is a celebratory time, bringing change even for us (in fact the only time that brings change for us)! Reality responds! And we adjust, evolving, too, by observing the novel and what it reveals about them and us. We would like first to assure you that we have observed at length, and would like also to assure that, independent of our pure observation, we have only the ultimate global good as our goal, the pursuit of which we become better and better suited to as we evolve. The appearance of novel mechanisms of transmission has become apparent to us, as a result of that very transition, stimulating the organism to adapt, unknowingly but subconsciously (the ...

Fight for a flower, a songbird who sometimes sings  But really it's never known what the war was for As the flower was unlike flowers And no other could be found And a song once sung leaves no subsequent sound Only ears hear once and never again What memory can't handle what becomes a mere yearn True emotions become abstractions  We say we yearn  Because we can't remember, we know not what for But there's a take whence it came from Happened long ago When the world was older and dying The world is the hands of a titan of darkness Who stalked the earth all his days knowing only what for He roamed the earth like a wildling Singing his song - a brutal yell, a stream of conscience Buried in the earth Many years him and heeded what he pointed desperately to He caught the eye of a young man who saw her too He caught the wind of the songbird who to the titan flew He cast her down from her tower to read his books They wove a spell not to be forgotten for the world when it renewe...

Oh, someone I know  once said so many things -   I don’t remember them as much   as the melody that rings   inside the caverns of my soul   whenever I’m alone   which has become so many years   beside a wellspring made of tears   and if you want to   you can find it   I’ll make sure it is out there   a light within the darkness   at a path that grows more clear  oh, the longer that you walk it  with my hand beside your own  reaching out inside the darkness  to touch the great unknown  I love you, I have said  without the meaning of the words  thrown out in vain - but like a dossier  it wrote upon my name  and now forever has become  the rest of my little life -  I don’t want to find what’s comfortable  nor fall in love with strife  and you can find it  if you look  know it’s a replica of you - ...