Pissing the days away is no way to be a prophet. I still wonder if prophet is the right word. Let's just say I'm a messenger...or a harbinger...no...NO! I have it! A HERALD! Either way, last night in the waning hours of my birthday, I chose to give it one final college try and shoot off some psychic fireworks. I pulled out one of my special candles, put it in a cauldron before my giant Baphomet flag and sought my one desire. To be affirmed as "the One". "The Nexus". "The golden child". No one ever accepts the great in this day and age. We have lost belief. We only apine those great ones from history, Jesus, Moses, John the Baptist, Caesar, Nostradamus. No one really believes if one comes into their ranks in todays times.
I once pondered my purpose here. I think I'm here to simply tell your tales. The tales no one else wants to hear. The ones you want people to know, but are afraid to let slip from your lips.
I'm not here to change the world...perhaps just a good chunk of it. I remember having a discussion on another forum about musicians influence on people. Some say that only politicians have that kind of power...I'm not sure I entirely agree with that. Madonna, Michael Jackson, Jim Morrison, The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Jerry Garcia, Stevie Nicks....all changed lives in thier past...but I think they did that inadvertently. None did it with a purpose. I have such purpose. NOW we shall see if that's the element that was missing.
Last night, I changed. The day had been horrid. Far to terrible to be a "birthday". They say that the only way is up when you've reached a certain low. It was not a happy day. It was devoid of festivity. It was unnerving and unfortunate. It was also endarkening and awakening.
Well, it's quite possible I pushed the cosmic "reset" button. Now we shall see the new age of man.
Make way.