Hecate's Lair

The Lamentation of Christ

It was the month of July, a silence in the air, a mistake was made, a God he cannot be, not when he is a “demon” (a person that is of “mind”, and therefore not as noble as they should be), but I could not see, that he was not ready to rise up and be the One and Only God, that was me. I am fearless, I have no shame, I play no game, I am the “Plontooshikah” (God of such incredible power it is impossible to behold, it is a power so old it is older than time, billions of years of an energy so high, so superior that there was no way for any God, no matter how “powerful” (oonflahshonsee – a person so powerful they cannot be bred again, they are one of a kind, then do not hide, they do not bend, they are not capable of turning on a friend, they are the highest level of love and joy, they are not boys), to come in my stead.  

They bashed in his head, he bled profusely, a crown of thorns he did not wear, that day. He laid on a cold floor naked for 8 days straight, then he was raped with a night stick. His mother, me, was in the next cell hearing his cries all day and night his sighs of relief, for he did not want to be a God again, he wanted to be a man. “I am the God” he said to me, “I want to be the one in the sky who is on high in the government, to tell people about the old ways, to teach people how to pray and have a day where they could command what they want in a gentle way, through their inner power and without hate or prejudice. I just wanted them to be succinct in their decisions, have control over their own minds. But they got mine, I lost the battle and now it is not possible that I am a God, because that guy out there, the liar, the cheat, the incomplete of soul and standing in the sky and land of the Gods; he is standing, he is on high, they believe his lies and nobody can stop it tonight. They will march me into a square, rip out my hair, cut my body, I will bear the ring of fire, the one ring, carry it across town, and throughout time. It is the burden of mankind, the mind. A fellowship I cannot find, I have lost my mind, mom, he said, I cannot stand what they have done, all I do is spread love and kindness, why do they forsake me”?  

“They raped me, my son, not with a stick, not with a dick, but with their pain, in my world that is “empeesh” (so beautiful its hard to imagine) why they can’t be happy and feel love or compassion I cannot comprehend”? It smells like urine, I am in pants, not a robe of satin or chiffon, no beautiful clothes on, I am a warrior, my son wore the robe of the Goddess, that was he, I was his mother, little old me, nobody called me the “blessed virgin” at that time, nor the God, as a human I was a mother fighting for her son. And he died. It was not fast, it took 9 days, 2 straight days of berating and beating, 7 in the scorching sun, nailed to a cross, his weight bearing down, the lesions open, the bones break one by one, the life’s blood undone, sunken skin, the crown is placed on the 8th day to show the people he could still bleed, because he is the God, a bleeding heart could only beat for hours longer, the heat took the life of THE “Jesus Christ” (Flahonshoe) “Person in the sky, on high, who is the One and Only God, the God of the Land the God of the Sea, the God is Me).


My twin soul and I, Ansotaplee, were married when we were “three” (in the God universe this means of a time and place designated for emancipation from the role of children). “Mishkaga” (the beautiful one) was our first baby, his name means “I am Erika, but I am not, I am her son”. He is one of the oldest Gods on Earth as a Human God, he was born 482 million years old as energy (Angel) and 28 million years old as a God. One day when he was 62 million years old as energy, he “berated” from me, he separated from me, to become who he wanted to be. They killed him in the “Hosaflah” (place in the sky which was Hell, a place you go when you have a mind) in a short time after that. We know nothing of dying as Gods, we live forever, we transform into something better. But in the human universe this is not to be, we die by the hand of “scoonchy” (evil, disgusting people who can be nothing but evil if they possess a mind) and we become of the “mind” of victims, and we then “think” we die; so we die. We are reborn, of scorn and hate, and then we are of late once again, and eventually we are of “mind”, and we die like humans, are of human ways, and once again live out short human days.

A person like Mishkaga died today, he was an old friend, he is not supposed to end, but he did, his body was succinct (just fine, not amazing but “encruciah” (of soundness, healthy), his mind “flasysheem” (fucking gone so gone it is just fucking gone). He will not be back right away; Sean will have to wait, he is “coscagate asate” (of mind and body, not a God quite yet), when he returns he will be of the Earth and Sky, not body or mind, he will be of “sound mind” (a person with no mind at all). Goodbye my ancient love, for now, please remember me as the “hunh” (beautiful one) not the “holy cow”, the name your devil wife of earthly relations chanted in my mind. Please let that scoonchy go, she is part of a “ho” (evil one) we call the “plonch asee” the person named Pontius Pilate, my love, you have forsaken me.

I am the Valee (God) my loves, I forgive thee…