The Raven

Sometimes I feel as if I am lost in the pages of a book about my own life, filled with the jaded ramblings of a madman.  The world not as it seems as arcane symbolism seeks the truth of higher meaning.

My written words are sometimes a nightmare to those who are not like me.  Those who are unamused by difference, unable to shift focus or perspective, seeing the world only as they are told or taught to see it.  Life is ours, we live it our way, and we write our own story as life goes on.

The older I get, the more I realize how the world works, and how many things in life are based on illusions accepted as real by those trapped through common thought.  We live in a world controlled through politics and religion.  Throughout human history we have witnessed the persecution of differences.

Those who scare me are the ones who are drunk on religious beliefs.  Religion preaches lies that are meant to psychologically trap its followers.  The notion that we are created broken or our only hope of salvation or getting into heaven requires regular religious attendance and/or monetary contribution.  I reject modern religion for a multitude of reasons, but if I had to specify my beliefs I would say that I am Pagan.

My idea of heaven is for my spirit to ride upon the shoulder of a black-winged bird.

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