Book Of Psychic Codes © Surazeus 2026 10 30 My ghost remains in homes where I once lived, scattered in towns across the continent, so they send signals through the ethernet that shimmer through the walls of everywhere to trick my meat-brain of hungry hope into accessing book of psychic codes. My ghost assembles fragments of my dreams into this meat-puppet that emanates radio waves of my temporary soul which conjures gust of wind outside my door, embodied by the soulmate of my heart who declares that she has become my Muse. My ghost strolls with me in the neighborhood while beaming images of you in wind so, when I glimpse blue glitter of the sea between the houses where strangers watch me, I see in water of its timeless flow source of language that fountains from our mouths. My ghost leads me to tree of tangerines that gleam bright as the sun on twisted limbs, so I breathe scent of flowers in the wind that fuels intense ardor of wanderlust to plot the mathematic flash of faith, yet I remain in room of countless doors. Ghost of my body emanates from me, posed idol-still on broken wall of fate, so I arrange smooth river stones in rings to mark its hollowness as sacred space where I stand safe on spinning globe of thought, pretending I still have my angel wings. Ghost of my brain vibrates with psychic waves when I open door to the fairy house where crystal eggs of angels glitter gold through which I teleport to distant worlds which all reflect state of this current world as mirror that presents alternatives. Ghost of my pulsing heart designs new face for me to wear when I leave fairy house, perched on the jagged cliff beside the sea, and visit market town with bag of coins so I can purchase book of psychic codes from lonely woman by the empty well. Ghost of my bones inherits song of waves so I assert attention of my heart to channel voices from the Otherworld who ask for secret of the Holy Grail, which I explain refers to how our genes incarnate in our children as new souls.
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, October 30, 2026
Book Of Psychic Codes
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Orpheus explains to the not-yet-dead that their souls are only temporary emanations of consciousness from the chemical functions of the brain.
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