the vision of Prometheus tijuanagringoSeptember 2 2019, 22:51:55 UTC
It was a capital crime, they said, whoever made the judgement and punished him, whether titan or later god, or even something from before, in that lost mythology we sometimes dream about.
The lost aliens on TV making history come out conspiracy, yes, and I remember hearing the book that said the gods drove chariots, long, long ago. You can see them in their stone age helmets, breathing life long, long ago, before the grass turned brown and the earth dried out desert.
Tohu and bohu, a teacher Jew once told me. Emptyness and nothing.
The complete opposite of God’s commandment: Be Fruitful and Multiply.
Re: the vision of Prometheus bleodsweanSeptember 2 2019, 23:45:17 UTC
Burn it down, they said. We lit fire to all of it. And watched the destruction, the disintegration, the dissolution of what we had once held to be the sacred of our everydays. We scooped up handfuls of the warm embers and stuffed the bitter-tasting ashes into our mouths. The cinders hard to swallow, but choke it down we did. I can’t remember if they told us to gorge on the slag of what remained, somehow it seemed the next step in our disunion.
Come with us, they said.
We ran. It was dark then. We stumbled over the cliff. There had been a time, once, when that cliff was as though a barrier, the edge of the knowledge we had of our existence.
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It was a capital crime, they said, whoever made the judgement and punished him, whether titan or later god, or even something from before, in that lost mythology we sometimes dream about.
The lost aliens on TV making history come out conspiracy, yes, and I remember hearing the book that said the gods drove chariots, long, long ago. You can see them in their stone age helmets, breathing life long, long ago, before the grass turned brown and the earth dried out desert.
Tohu and bohu, a teacher Jew once told me. Emptyness and nothing.
The complete opposite of God’s commandment: Be Fruitful and Multiply.
It was the vision of Prometheus, they said.
Fire.
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Come with us, they said.
We ran. It was dark then. We stumbled over the cliff. There had been a time, once, when that cliff was as though a barrier, the edge of the knowledge we had of our existence.
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The children's faces were smeared with the fat of the meat. They did not go to bed hungry. They dreamed of the dead they ate.
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Looking forward to the new season.
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I’m looking forward to this :)
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Nervous. But excited.
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