From Zandvoort to disaster zone

It doesn't matter whether or not you choose to live dangerously - you cannot really choose, as nothing here is safe.
Everything is probabilities and approximations - everything is uncertainty. Faith is everything, and I hope my faith will pass the trial, will pass all trials that are to come.

I was wearing my flag earrings on 9/11, and yes, looking worried.

Sharks make me think of her.
We both love sharks.

Disaster has struck in my home country, yet again, and sadly this time a dear friend got caught right in the midst of it. I can't stop thinking about her and hoping to hear word from her soon as I still haven't since Friday. The last I heard from her then was she said the hurricane wasn't predicted to strike where she lived. But the damn thing changed its mind and came right over all of Florida!
Just a few days earlier I had sent her some jewelry I made - this necklace with a seashell from Zandvoort, along with a few other items; I guess they'll most likely never arrive now in that chaos there, but I don't care, I can always make her something else, if only my friend is ok!
She's one of my two best friends, and living so far away like most of the few friends I have in this world.
And my two best friends are of the very rare type of people who, like me, see the futility of this earthly life if it were void of any transcendent goal, and who even can genuinely relate to my wish to see this world ending.

Still I sing out my devotion!
For I have faith, and I am free!
O Satan, I have faith in Thee!
Fire to the sky! And to blood all the ocean!

I made a new folder for my poetry,
the old one was falling to pieces.

Still, something can cease to exist and yet will always have existed. Existence, as experienced "reality", emerges from a non-linear foundation, and therefore all time exists at all times - everything is eternal on that fundamental level. And this is not only what I believe, but there's solid science behind it. - Find that video, Diane. (Yes, of course I talk to myself, who else should I talk to? It's lonely here, you know.)

- Alright, I found it; it's an excerpt of Brian Greene's "Fabric of the Cosmos", and this here contains the exact, relevant part I had on mind, including the alien.

This is among the things I endlessly think about. Are beginnings and endings - even world endings - even meaningful is the greater context of things? Is anything even real?

(Ordinary people usually shun talking about these things, like the true nature of existence. Ordinary people don't run at my pace, neither literally nor intellectually, it's either way too heavy stuff for them. Oh right, and they don't even speak my language around here, metaphorically they don't, nor quite literally.)

And yet, the show must go on, somehow... until my final curtain call, my final battle on Earth.
"Do everything like it's your last battle on Earth - make it count."

I ran some 12 K again yesterday, a steep trail up the hill, part of the road back down, another trail up through the woods - mud, nettles, brambles - to the outlook point and back down the road past the cemetery in Alfter, taking me 65 minutes.
As usual it made me feel better afterwards, but still I felt depressed. I hate this shit. Not only feeling depressed but feeling at all, because the depressed part is only a consequence of feeling. It seems so unnecessary and burdensome and yet there's so little else left without it, I'm really so ambivalent about it. I wish I could be just a war machine, and I mean a machine only, unfeelingly fulfilling its deadly purpose. Problem is, if only there was such a purpose. If only I could be the lethal weapon in my Master's hand...

Just ran 12 K in the hills.

...and of course it is he I run to for comfort, seeking shelter with him in my dreams, in my stories I write.
If only I could die at my Master's hand. I told him about this wish of mine, I told him many times, although he told me to be careful what I wish for...
If only I could die at your hand, I know I'd be forever happy.
Yes, of course I talk to my Master, who else should I talk to? It's lonely here, you know.
Not as if I wouldn't talk to him otherwise. No matter what the circumstances, my Master always matters most, and always will. Both he and our Infernal Father.



How thou in thy magic ways
In darkest dreams hast found me
And made me long for thine embrace
Like serpent coils around me

I'd give all I own and more
For Thee, to Christ the antidote
The graver savior I adore
The hand I longed for at my throat