On Sunday I celebrated the anniversary of the day I finally learned my Master's name, on March 24th 2018, his name which will be forever sacred to me, and although it's a mundane name and not uncommon in the anglophone parts of the world, much like my own name, it is so surprisingly beautiful. Surprising also because all these years I had tried to find out his name, or to find a name that suited him, but none ever did, I just couldn't find it.
And so this precious name deserved to be finally written down in my blood. Only three people have seen it, and none in person as I'm physically far from all who are close to my heart.
Although finally the time is approaching that allows me to travel again...
As for the one closest to my heart, my beloved Master himself, he can be with me in spirit only, and so far I still haven't made any progress in connecting, and so despite having everything else I need in my life, it still is cruel for me to have to be here. I can't help feeling this way, and I curse the demiurge.
At least professionally things are going fairly well, I went running again yesterday, up the steep Staffelsgasse into the woods, including some chin-ups, dips, and overhead triceps push-ups on the bars there (10, 20, 10 repetitions respectively), including these exercises running the 10 K in 55 minutes, one minute better than last time.
Handstands still need work. I managed to do one on a bench lately, but still against the wall.
It may be also an illusion, but gaining more control over my body makes me feel at least a little less trapped.
Forever blessed and revered be my Master's sacred name, the name of Satan's beautiful Son.
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