God On Strike
The words that follow are not mine. They are of my hand, but I did not design them.
The words that follow are not mine. They are of my hand, but I did not design them.
For the ancient Egyptians, the Pelasgians or People of the Sea was like a bunch of devils out of hell
I can hit the road thru infinity as soon as I have the green light of the Eagle.
Your life is before you like an ocean. You don’t see the shore. My life too is an ocean, but behind me.
That passenger is not human. He belongs to the invisible category. But I saw him.
I remember Hyperborea. There I grew up lulled by fairies, breastfed by muses.
To communicate, you have to situate the level of your interlocutor. The tarot appears to be a great tool.
Am I remote-controlled like a drone? Or am I the only master on board my body?
Contemplate anything, you’ll find void. Open your heart, you’ll find absolute love.
A book that shook a whole generation, mine, that of powdery feet in search of absolute.
Tiki Viracocha had a bright face like the sun because he was the Son of the Sun
In India, Noah is called Manu: he grounds his ark on the North Mountain …