11/18/12
5:36am
33 days
I am born to be King. The Crown is my bloodline; grandson to a carpenter, son of a mechanic, father of god. So much shall trail in my wake, though not all shall be destroyed.
Only that which inhibits & prohibits us from success, physical, mental & emotional, in that order, or really any which way you wish as this kingdom shall rise on the backs of hungry generals, all given a fair shake, for each shall have a piece of stake.
Lancelot lies in Wolfspider Tower, in the East, but tonight I sit sleepless in the Treehouse of the Red Fairy Queen, having bowed myself to her service, held her close as she wept as she would never, could never, before her servants.
She slumbers peacefully beneath clouds, tucked below hills & valleys, white noise raining about her figure. I became restless, channelling her tension through hanged man lifted arm & Fisher King foot. Soon, pulsing waves of faces and slices of scenes washed across my eyes in seashore symmetry.
I gave myself vision to see though the cycles of time that rotated between the seven year versions of me. Twenty-nine was a fine time, but really it was only the seedling of who I've become. Lost and unemployed, not writing, couldn't find the time between open bars and wandering the cityscape.
I refine the time and it shortens mine, threepointfive behind & 3 1/2 ahead.
The savage hatelove of my Siren mistress is stinging my ears as I cry out in tears, "JUST END THIS SERIES OF UNSYMPATHETIC JEERS!" and all before that tragic time falls in line, plummeting into todays gone far away.
Three and a half years from now I am working on my tan, with creators working for me, and though I could never imagine it, I've successfully pulled off my plan. It all gets grinding tomorrow but it's always been in motion, gathering an army, man by woman.
The visions fades as the gift remains. It's just taken up space in my brain where once there was pain, now and before and evermore, I will see, foresee, & always foresaw. An opening enlightenment to psychic powers, cracking open the day I was born.
I retreat to the lower chamber to let the Queen sleep, as it's been so long and, oh, how she needed to weep. I summon three witches to come under my spell, a new coven is needed for this oncoming Hell, and there they are, one two three: Miss, Spliff, & Roarie.
I lift my sword and drive it in me, painfully, steadily, beating it from my body, Catastrophic Tonic spewing from my veins. Helen of Troy is in need of a siege, now that the Fae call me their liege. A conquest beyond the stars sings lonely tunes within the brightest of moons.
And who better to bring them low, make them finer with softest blow? Lo, who will know their selves as simply as their skin? Rage, ladies, and sin, for your new reign is about to begin.
My naked body slips under Lion's skin in cool morning air. It will be much like this morning when it all ends. A day like any other, special and unique, unlike another, brilliant in simplicity, radiating authenticity, the world wakes up, from city to city.
And that guy that flips the switch, it's me.
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