35. There are many thoughts that have entered my weary head with a pinpoint precision designed to pierce the misty veil of complacency that often covers my brain with its sticky nonsense, so sweet to lick and terrifying to touch. The inconsistencies that I see in the mirror have trapped me in a model world where idiots are the intellectuals and fools are the great kings and queens who will rule this world beyond the mirror. I am constantly nauseous with the foolish babbling of the morons who rule my world and often I find myself vomiting out the contents of my ponderous thought, so heavy with the burden of a sanity born from the desperation that only stupidity can bring. With talented hands I rip the lacy gauze which threatens to smother my perfect philosophy, my naked spirituality and the mighty metaphysics that have so succored me all these long years when I wandered the world as a poor man. Without its opaqueness blinding me I am able to see the truth that has hidden inside the many crease and crevasses of a mind in turmoil, laying there dormant and dreary, dead to the world that needs its silly wisdom, its maniacal mysteries that hold the many secrets foretold by the great eye that sees the true world hidden in the mirror. And they are many, these myriad pinpricks in the darkness of society’s great mysteries, which having been eternally beholden to a greater system in which there can be no secrets, and they cough up gladly their rich and undiscovered phlegm and spit it out upon the surface of the mirror for us to examine carefully. So I delve deeper than I had ever thought possible, searching for the answer to that question that will not give me the solace which most penitents seek but instead will give me the passionate aching that only tragedy and turmoil can give and subduing my divine spark while mastering the humanity which dwells so deeply within me. No longer will I seek the peace and salvation that humanity has strived for throughout existence because I have seen a great truth; I am what I am. There will be no transmogrification, no great metamorphoses to transform me from this blessed state into some greater being who is master of his own destiny. In the great descent that life’s grand journey forces us to undertake, I have seen a vision of the world in slumber and it dreams of the mighty flesh and the pleasures that being alive can only bring. It is a message of hope for the true seeker, a beacon to the essential truth that lies distant, though not so far if one truly searches along the great and serpentine path that lies just to the left of the illuminated path into the heart of the mirror.