Been a While... (My Will at bottom)

Dearest portal,

You collect my words. They originally were thoughts.
At this instance, I have come to spew into your abyss.
Rockets burst blatant in the air, but the shrillest searing is coming from some place I can't see yet is still in "me". Not a word, but, yes a tumult.

Rage, vanity, and the foulest mire of desires are birthed and must be quickly slain. They continually spawn from some itching corner. If they live, they live off my 'life'. The tufts of shalum (completing tranquility), given to me as gifts are their food. My inner-body is continually working, hacking, destroying, dismantling, severing, hating heavily these PARASITES!
I hold no remorse for them. No pity felt. My face placid as their blood once warm from movement has caked and matted the figurative hair on my head.

I once used to sigh from a depressed place I had no clue existed. Back then, I thought my sigh to be likened to a yawn. Unsure as to why it happened, yet a normally occurring occurrence.

I've existed in other worlds, and this one hasn't been the worst, but it is a horrible one nonetheless. You are born with a baby (your body), and you being but an infant must take care of an infant. You get help from a 'parent' if you are a more fortunate one. Chance.

I have nearly swept all the ick into you, portal.
Sure, there are those who sneak in and take what they need to figure out my ticking gears and tocking clinks, but they sweat in vain.
I'll leave that to them to figure out.

My Will as of now:
All material matters to my asha, Lula (Loren Trotman formerly Dearth)
If unavailable to accept, go through your usual hoops.

My grey matter is showing. So be it.
These patterns, never-ending. Chaos to the tiny humans. Simplicity to YHUH (YaHUaH)

I pledge allegiance to YHUH of the beginning and the end; and to His Word* by which it stands as one Truth, never failing, under His authority, which is perfect thus misunderstood by all.

*His audible Word

Wretched, disgusting, and arrogant creatures we are.
Our shame, continually exposed. We should be embarrassed, but no.
We delight, smile, wallow, and roll in our shame until it chokes that smile and we die.
We die ugly but not before one final thought of humility having come too late.