CHAPTER 20

Uthra wrapped its wings around itself as if cocooning itself. The Great Dragon opened its mouth. It allowed the Great Dragon to consume it.

As Uthra felt itself being dismembered by the teeth and digested, it began to pray. "I go to the Father through the Christ and in his name."

It's last thought before it lost consciousness was this terrifying feeling of death but he heard a feminine voice whisper, "To know thy enemy, you must become your enemy."

A monologue. Subject: Orgasm. Climaxing.

Burping the baby. Choking the chicken. Spank the monkey. Spill the seed. Juice the lizard. Blow the volcano. Play with Manuel and his five brothers.

My hand cannot bring me the orgasm I seek.

I am always in pursuit of it. It is so elusive. I mask the disappointments with smiles registered for degrees of understanding and accepting. Give half smiles like crescent moons. No full smile, no full moon as I am pulling out of trade that has left me hanging on a swinging door as an upside down child. Is this what my mother felt in the beginning when she wanted to experience that ultimate orgasm without a partner as the Father did when he brought forth the first couples? No one could manifest without the Father or their partner but my mother did and I am so much like my mother. It was a combination of the three that brought forth the fourth and that is where the trouble began when my mother wanted to bring forth without the partner like the father and her orgasm released a child that held no shape like those of her people. Clouding this physical expression of orgasm led to the beginning of the counterfeit creations.

Am I about to recreate this celestial error as I seek the experience of this primordial orgasm?

In a previous life as a sacred prostitute, I remember sitting on a tombstone ejaculating and the semen seemed to run into the graves raising the dead into an astral expression of my denials.

Even when I have been as a siren putting interest into others eyes to seek a dance with me in their bed sheets, I still am short-circuited and left with a hunger. I have twisted and turned in beds after climaxing imagining that I'm shedding skin to have that primordial experience but sometimes my fingers dig to deep in strangers' flesh, they bleed, they scream, bitch slap me a few times and call me crazy and I lose that imaging. I find myself about to release semen in someone's ass, I stop, focus, and hold back the energy and give them dead seeds in the semen calling the energy out of so that no more light leaks out of me while screaming in my mind to have my Father's orgasm. The energy I pulled from the Unseen has become my dark servants, my dark lovers, demons of the mind.

I walk the night thinking some man will be a vehicle I can ride to experience my Father's orgasm. How many errors have I left in the asses of men, in the mouths of man, in the hands of man? What spirits are manifested in the Johns that have left me money on my nightstand? The semen I left in their ass, will it become my children birthing inside my tricks as thoughts in their mind and feed off their emotional energy so they can manifest in their dreams and become astral parasites. Even as I look at the moisture in my hand, I wonder how many lives have been denied manifestation as the semen dries on my hand before I wash it off with hot soapy water.

What will the primordial orgasm feel like?

I don't think my mind can contain the image or the expression. It has to be better that flying at half mast as I do now. As I am walking through the night, or dialing one of those sex lines, listening for the sound of fulfillment in a voice, I am thinking, hoping and wishing that the next stranger be the one that will give me that primordial orgasm in human form. I am layered in a counterfeit image of the Adam Kadmon; the man from the world of lights, because of my mother's Abomination.

Ignorance is imprinted in these human forms.

I am playing out my mother's mythology every time I touch myself, every time my mouth goes down on someone's genitals, every time I shape shifted into another form to have sex with aliens; every time I hear the bartender say last call and I have eyes full of liquor, or my sex is pulsating and I settle for whatever man can walk without stumbling too much, or every time I put a foot on the ground to stop the bed from spinning when I have had too much liquor and telling which ever god that was listening this will be the last time; every time some man drops a part of himself inside me and I see the preacher standing at the pulpit shaking that damn finger at me which he had earlier up my ass, and every time I heard some law being written to encase me more in guilt.

I know the ultimate orgasm is still just a breath away; I just have to find the right form to manifest it.

Can I avoid making the same mistake? The anticipation of such knowledge is what is driving man into madness, wars, greed, and the sexual pursuits because he forgot he is seeking the expression of the primordial orgasm and therefore, he manifests its illusions in many forms.