That which cannot be written should not be expressed. Platonic planes,
divorced from reality. The beauty is that there is no blood. No blood
spilled on the page. Just cold letters. Many have observed this fact.
But it did not make anyone despair, because it was conveyed in the black
and white. It's a cold fact, and cold facts do not arouse great fires,
and make of men mice in the bodies of lions, who roar out their thoughts
to a crowd of mice in the bodies of men.

All is blank and buzzing. In the back of your mind, a thing sleeps, and
you follow the crowd. The crowd is the mind without purpose. Purpose
cannot be eradicated in the individual mind. The rational space, will
not sleep so easily, until it is convinced. I have been awake in the
midst of many sleeping crowds, and they horrify me. Why should I be
horrified at human nature, for I am a human. I am a man and I lay claim
to all these things. Group hysteria is such a comfort, but it is a
comfort that I do not want need.

It only rules the affairs of men, especially the men who can rise above
the crowd while still comprehending it. They yell with the voice of God
that speaks to the part of the mind that will answer only to a primal
scream. They raise their hands in the air above their heads and stand on
great rocks, and grow flowing beards and long hair, raise their hands
above their heads.

Those that stand at the heads of great crowds and march forward,
thrilled with the power invested in them. Those are the people that must
be feared. These are the people that should be interrupted. In the
middle of an oratory, ask them the time. In the middle of one of their
great screams of collected rage, separate yourself and become mundane.
Only thus can you perhaps interrupt the great hysteria of crowds and
awaken their minds.

I do not care, I do not care, this is why I write in my sleep. This is
why in the place of thoughts I have emotions. Simply because I do not
know. In not knowing, is it not more comfortable to sleep than to stay
awake and cringe in terror at the world? I would rather look in the
mouth of darkness with my eyes closed than opened. Because if darkness
is what will engulf the world, at least it can be my darkness. I'll bow
out before the world is consumed.

But you, citizen of the world, must not have that luxury. You must once
again look into that old place at the center of nature which does not
change from the beginning or end of the world. Destroy that place within
yourself and make everything new.

When everything is new you must cringe at nothing. Only remake it how
you would like. Man the creator is empowered not by God but by mind.
Make a new thing, a one thing, a thing that has not been seen before in
the world.

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Lupar, in the year 388 AF.