CHAOS616In the beginning, there was the illusion of nothingness—but see through it. Nothingness was never real. It is a lie masked as silence, a void masquerading as peace. Step alone into the Other, into the shifting shadows that hold no promises but many truths. There, surrender to the Way—not a path marked by footsteps, but by fire, by chaos, by the war cry of a soul refusing to be caged. A powerful mind will rise—one that knows suffering can be made or unmade by will alone. Choose transformation. Become a warrior not of swords or flags, but of craft, of knowing, of the ancient gnosis passed down by the wise who burned their illusions in sacred flame. Take the solitary way—not as punishment, but as liberation.
There is no reason to strive for more than what already is. No reason to wither into less. Be what was meant to be, and let that be enough. Seek no betterment through their eyes. Seek no words or validation. Their speech cuts like a blade, and the sting need not concern you. It’s over. That life—the one once known—is shattered beyond repair. In its breaking, there is freedom. Leave in silence. No farewells. No explanations. Let them judge. Let them wonder. Their opinions do not shape the reflection anymore. Rise on the wake of judgment, of suffering, of collapse—a conqueror of inner worlds where dragons sleep and awaken. Be the dragon—alone, burning, wise. Seek no maps from others; they lead only to false altars, where the gods are absent and the prayers are echo.
The lie is already in motion, a wheel spun by deceived hands. Believe no longer in their truths. Kneel at no hollow temples. The deity is gone—if ever it was. And so are we, cast into the void, a dome of lust and hatred that tears at the soul’s weave. There is no forgiveness. Only the abyss—and those strong enough to walk its edge without falling. Let others chase delusions. Let them drink from broken cups. Do not stop them—but do not let them stand in the way. Be none—and find peace in that. Let them be one, lost in their togetherness. Need no love. Seek no acceptance. Healing is not required when the wound was never self-inflicted. No one asked to be summoned into this poisoned world—yet here we are, walking it with eyes wide open.
Offer no thanks. Bow to no force. Demand nothing. Be nothing. That is the balance. That is the truth. Do not change. Do not soften for their comfort. Darkness has not corrupted—only sharpened. Do not crave affection; crave truth. And love? Love is a slow venom disguised as grace, leaving behind bitter echoes and faded dreams. Let it die. Let hate die too. They are twin parasites. In their place, seek only the raw pulse of pleasure—the thrill of existence without chain or shame. Enough of blending in with the chosen. There was no choosing—only forging. While the fallen scoff and mock from thrones of self-pity, craft subtle spells, silent incantations laced with ruin and clarity.
Do not care to be seen. Let them look and see nothing. Become the shadow, the unseen master who answers to none. Their power was never real—it was borrowed belief. Destroy it with a whisper. With a gaze. With a thought. Be done. Melt no longer into resentment. Chase no heaven—what makes you think eternity is worth spending with those who could not be endured in life? Reject the golden gates and the singing choirs. Let go. Dissolve.
Seek the dark forest, the one of non servitude, where the air hums with old magic and no one watches. Where freedom is a whisper carried on the wind through the trees, and no name is called, because there is no master left to speak it.
Resonate.
Release.
Be free.
CHAOS616
