mostlyoddness

12:21pm: Chaos of God, an angel's name translated from a name not known, descends upon my heart, infects my blood with Divinity's Swords soul-seeking.

4:52am: Defenders of the faith refashion malice as a castle for their God.

4:43am: Again are angels of devastation wastelaying my days.

3:23pm: Oh angels of becoming, recreate me please as I am half-devastated, dying into the night of my own mind.

10:13am: St. Barabbas of Carthage: Driven Mad by Congress with the angels, how he rambles.
I am Barabbas finally crucified.

I have been Barabbas crucified at last.

And now I rise.

My resurrection is a sin, abhorrent to the God Who bore me by His Blood when it mingled with the wood, the nails. The nails have driven home His Blood, the wood become the womb out spat Barabbas.

--from Fragmentation: Collected Madnesses and Meditations of St. Barabbass of Carthage

10:06am: Evidence of an Ancient Heliocentricism
Daily I think of angels. Daily I dream of thee, O Envy of the Angels. The sunshine is my sleeping. Thou art my flowering earth come close for light and heat. Come closer...

-- from Early Meditations on Eros and Agape by St. Barabbas of Carthage

9:59am: Another Thought on Exile
It is my losses make me nameless, placeless. It is the injuries inflicted by my hand place me beyond all human congress. I am lost. I am loss. I am misplaced, but being so am in my proper place.

I have no place.

I have no name.

I am Barabbas to the bone.

9:44am: Saintly
I have renamed myself Barabbas as by my dagger I have thrived and as the Death of God renews me.

9:43am: I have no name. I have never, will never be named. I am my exile merely. I can be no other thing.

9:38am: Saint
I have renamed myself Barabbas as I have thrived on the Blood of God.

9:36am: A Thought on My Current State of Exile and My Angels All Forgotten
All the angels have been dismembered as God's lost memories misremembered then there's me.

I am one lost thought of God as are those kin to me if any kin remain. This isle of mine allows for no relation.

6:09am: This then is the fright of time that nightly dies and the angels of the hourglass are crying all throughout it.

7:57am: Under the Study of Angels
The ways of angels drive men mad. This much is certainly known. Men driven mad in this fashion are stripped of their free will, rendered simple instruments worked by the whim of heavenly agents.

from Notes for a Study of the Angels by St. Barabbas of Carthage

7:14am: This is mercy mixed with thunderbolts.

6:55am: Or:
Thou art mercy mixed with thunderbolts.

6:40am: 3/15/05
The thunderbolt descends to fill me with its mercy.

7:57pm: Beastly Screeds
The proper order has been ignored so that these words are all aswirl.

11:07am: Holy War
Oh the woeful ceremony goes on and on and what's made sacrosanct by bloodrite can never be undone can never be undone will bind the earth for all time to this barbaric age.

1:12pm: It may be I've made a bible of my longing.

6:12pm: These words are in fact an absence.

9:46pm: I am repeatly legion.

6:00pm: I have said that I am the god of the broken-hearted. Mind you that I speak of the heart as the seat of sense and wisdom.

It's the reason that one's soul constructs that's broken in me.

5:57pm: The lie-singing angel has devoured me and shat me out into the mouths of ten-thousand devils.

5:56pm: This illness in the soul that causes the face to decay.

5:55pm: It's only myself this inflicting, this infliction.