Madness, Chaos, Confusion: A Writing of the Divine Feminine as Experienced in the Moment , enjoy
(There may be typos lol)
Madness, Chaos, Confusion.
By Christian Andreas Korbe
Creation is a timeless void, of black infinite possibility which is the feminine divine, representing the primal core that holds the fertile, wild untammable power to reproduce whatever is seeded into it, projected, reflected, or envisioned-imagined inside it. Fructifying the seeded essence inside, birthing it from the shapeless into shape,from the Formless unity into dual components. Whatever is seeded into her, ripples, as the Saturnian Rings of eternal dissolution and reconfiguration, that what ever force - concept is given to her she naturally emanates and reflects this idea into innumerable conceptualizations representing the original, but varying in appearance and operation yet still working under the given distinct attribute of identity to conduct the whole mechanism known as times clocks of life, or his many masks and characters all carrying the primal eternal spark of divine animation. The figures,or imagined states of consciousness, awareness, intent, are impressed into the womb-void- root waters, thus they move and shift as lunar currents and are manifested into innumerable representations of that original intention.
Therefore, reality is the womb, the point of manifestation where all acausality is present, and therein is oneself the I, the I Am, which I Will, or the I Am that I Am, or desire myself to be. In this present moment that is immutable, the Unknowable, is the direct experience of willing oneself into the waters of creation, the dark void of formlessness, the abyssmal waves of the horrifying eternal destroyer and creator. Diving into the hungry jaws of her alluring mystery, appearing innocent and inviting at first, but then revealing herself as the great whore with all that can ever be conceived rests, operates, appears, and disappears . She is filled with the almighty forms which consist of heavenly judgment and hellish madness. She is overflowing from within infinitely taking in all things, the phallus being absorbed into all areas of her dark light, and reflecting timelessly as the unnameable realms beyond disguise though dancing with measureless forms.
Her fornication is fully absorbant, drinking the semen of her own concealing nature, revealing countless expressions of her fearful presence, and infintely seductive realities promising a glimpse into a sensible comprehension of what she is. Birthing dancing harlots covered in void light with caperous hooded nymph like twirls hypnotising the identity to fall into the prison of her scorneful destruction. Only to bring deeper the utter melancholy, terror, awe, and pain of seeing her terrible act. Revealing promising light realms of deluctable understanding, yet once touched it dissipates like a mirage and becomes as sheol and nod.
She dances with demonic fangs, a serpent kissing tongue, and wild hips displaying lustrous thunderous power over the heart and will. Purely black and as terrifying, as Kali, yet as bright and inviting as Venus, she coos, lulls, and slips me into a trance. Like a mother cradling me into her warm arms, and soft fleece silk robes. Drifting me into the Nile of her siren like song, and carrying me on the notes of dream like relaxation… But the tunnel is bright, heavenly, blinding, …
Then she appears,as the deciever is, a screaming angel of pure horror , crushing black holes and obliterating the apocalyptic demise of all… filled with blackness, utter entropy, and murderous beauty
Rays of light fold over me in the howling,screeching , owl like winged singularity of her unified dual veil… Black sun’s burn and dissect my very soul, spirit, psyche, mind, leaving me trembling in melancholic horror with streams of tears dripping the blood of her kisses down my dissolving, fractaling crucified, bleeding, eternally chaotically whirling face… catastrophy is an understatement, her light is as deceitful as her darkness.
They are no different , but both call one seemingly into truth only show that truth is the lie that keeps on killing.
She appears as a cathedral, but with golden light yet again concealing a secret, sacred, death.
She tremors, shakes, and demonically dances in wrath against the whole of my heart,vrhe whole of reality, the whole of creation… she is pure destructive chaos, ineffable, making open the whole of creation through endless dissolution into her maddening virginal primordial love, beyond hate or passion, peace, or pain, pleasure, or discomfort, angst, or patience, fame, or humiliation, she is the oppossory of humble she is the entirety of humiliating pride beyond exaltation.
She lives at the center of my flesh and dances as my desires drawing me into her infinte labryinth of renewal, reveal, and desolation, absolute confusion… where these seemingly dual powers are totalified, entirely made true whole pure truer than truth by being dynamically engaged in activity that keeps both in distinct individual autonomous thrones under one Crown…