Womb Of Our Singing Sea © Surazeus 2025 09 12 Humanity has no future in space for we are singing spirits of the Earth, though we have longed to soar on angel wings above cluttered messiness of desire to dwell in heavenly Realm of Ideas where God the Craftsmen molds eternal forms. That perfect Heaven, paradise of peace and soul-soothing pleasure, does not exist except as fantasy of endless joy through virtual world inside our dreaming brains programmed by priests for two millennia to believe their lie of the Afterlife. I prefer rich messiness of real life that gleams rough as diamond of timeless truth inside dream-flashing network of my brain which I designed one hundred thousand years running with wolves in vast Caucasian woods that flourish around our Hyrkanian Sea. Instead of gliding on angelic wings, soaring high in propeller-driven planes, or blasting rockets into outer space with ridiculous fantasies of Heaven or planets thousands of lightyears away, I treasure complex weirdness of our Earth. Humanity should learn to live on Earth, satisfied with paradise this globe offers to us hairless monkeys who lost our tails then started building empires of farm fields ruled over by gods in pyramid temples for we spring from womb of our singing sea. Because we humans are stuck on this globe, which spins relentlessly through empty void as cluster of atoms sparkling with life through psychoactive chemicals of lust, I celebrate intense shimmer of love that animates my fragile shell of bones. Programmed by billions of ancestral lives, whose memories design the virtual world that glows as functions of my dreaming brain, I journey on the signless road of life to find the secret of the Holy Grail in womb of woman who creates new life. Reborn from womb of every mother soul life after life four hundred million years, I know myself as complicated human evolving through each quadruped, from fish to newt to mouse to cat to ape to man, as I strive to become concept of God.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Friday, September 12, 2025
Womb Of Our Singing Sea
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Orpheus strides back and forth on stage before the huge audience and preaches salvation through figuring out how to live in productive peace on this planet instead of ignoring problems by trying to live on other planets.
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