Spider-Watch Of My Soul © Surazeus 2024 11 29 My anxiety is the spider-watch, constructed of gold wheels that regulate conceptual motion of the universe, which crawls across the unread holy book full of riddles and sacred prophecies, to unscrew ticking time bomb of my brain. Just beyond the limit of my eyesight, I sense gold shadow of the spider-watch transform into the person I love most who keeps their name secret from everyone, so I pretend they are walking away while I search for the most important book. Because it seems someone is judging me within framework of their ontology, I avoid attending social events where people wear the most beautiful masks designed to replicate the spider-watch that emerges from egg-sea of my brain. Embracing substance of the shadow mind that swells within confines of my flesh soul, I drive up and down the same road each day in routine controlled by the spider-watch whose eyes are sunrays in leaves of the trees who weep for the tragedy of my fate. Each night when I sleep in cage of my heart, I dream I follow the wild-haired cave girl in our daily hunt to kill leaping deer and roast its thick meat over crackling flames, but then I see her stacking returned books in the quiet library with slim hands. Dancing with delicate balance of hope, in rhythm with beat of the spider-watch, I glide through open doors in maze of masks with turbo-charged energy of desire, to maintain integrity of One Self scattered into angelic butterflies. Strict balance of all forces in between constrains excessive swirl of urgent hope in measured cadence of the spider-watch which dictates how far beyond bounds of fate I can leap before gravity entraps my soul in limits of my body frame. My soul is emanation from my brain in divine consciousness of who I Am as function of chemicals flashing thoughts through neural network of oneiric nodes woven by passion of the spider-watch so anxiety drives progress of faith.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Orpheus the watchmaker peers through the loupe to try and fix the malfunctioning gears in the spider-watch of my soul.
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