For untold aeons he searched and looked hither and thither, high and low... driven by the primeval, urgent, elemental urge to Seek. Seek what? Doesn’t matter. Shaddup.
Lost, the Seeker sought.
Out of time, outside of time, high upon a craggy crag the Seeker encountered an elderly guru of dubious provenance, indeterminate gender and reproachable demeanour. Gnarled and nut-brown ze wast, perched cross-legged upon a shit-stained boulder, the smell of an oily rag emanating from zer ambiguous loins.
Jubilation rose within the Seeker’s throbberous heart. Humbly on chafed knees approached he the Nut-brown. Then eyes downcast spake he demurely, saying:
“Oh wise one, wizened with wizdom, Mastress of the peaceful and wrathful deities, blessings upon thee to outnumber the very stars themselves. May thy radiance irradiate the very blackest corners of the Kosmos. Verily I quoth unto thee...”
“Oh fer Shiva-sake get on with it,” spake the Guru, “or I’ll quoth thee in thy blackest corners, where the sun never shines!”
“A trillion pardons, o’ Lamp of the World” wailed the Seeker, “please forgive the inadequacies of he who abaseth himself before thee, asking for naught but that thee hearken unto he who beggeth to know how one unworthy even to suck the smegma from thy holy lingam, how such a rank and foul impurity might sully the righteousness of thine presence, and re-emerge, answered and yet invalidated, in the hithertude of transgression?”
Thus enquireth the Seeker of the creased and marbled Mastress, the garrulous guru, the sun-baked samurai of truth, of whom wast previously writ.
“Oh get a life!” responded the Gnarled One querulously, “How can I answer thee when thy very words throttle the very life out of their own meaning itself? Verily! Cease and desist. Thy earnest visage maketh me want to puke! Thy mewling bewilderment poisoneth mine spirit, maketh the magic to winketh out: one moment glittering and alive, the next dull and devoid of spark, unquickened as a rotting dodo. Mine soul shivereth in desiccation. Mine mind wreathed in miasma. Wreaths are mired in mine asthma,” quoth the Nut-brown.
“Jeez, sorry for aksing,” spake the Seeker unto the Gnarled One, then turned and ran down the highest mountain screaming, then dived into the deepest sea sobbing, then wondered the endless desert moaning.
The Mastress watched his departure…
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eBooks by Cosmic Rapture
(for kindle, tablet, smartphone or e-reader.)
NIGHTMERRIES: THE LIGHTER SIDE OF DARKNESS. This so-called "book" will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you twitching and frothing on the carpet. More than 60 dark and feculent fictions (read ‘em and weep) copiously and grotesquely illustrated.
AWAREWOLF & OTHER CRHYMES AGAINST HUMANITY (Vot could be Verse?). We all hate poetry, right? But we might make an exception for this sick and twisted stuff. This devil's banquet of adults-only offal features more than 50 satanic sonnets, vitriolic verses and odious odes. MANIC MEMES & OTHER MINDSPACE INVADERS. A disturbing repository of quirky quotes, sayings, proverbs, maxims, ponderances, adages and aphorisms. This menagerie holds no fewer than 184 memes from eight meme-species perfectly adapted to their respective environments.MASTRESS & OTHER TWISTED TAILS. An unholy corpus of oddities, strangelings, bizarritudes and peculiaritisms, including but not limited to barbaric episodes of herring-flinging and kipper-kissing. A cacklingly bizarre read that may induce fatal hysteria. Not Recommended! FIENDS & FREAKS and serpents, dragons, devils, lobsters, anguished spirits, hungry ghosts, hell-beings, zombies, organ-grinders, anti-gods, gods and other horse-thieves you wouldn't want to meet in a dark cosmos. Immature Content! Adults Maybe.HAGS TO HAGGIS. An obnoxious folio featuring a puke of whiskey-soaked war-nags, witches, maniacs, manticores and escapegoats. Not to mention (please don't!) debottlenecking and desilofication, illustrated. Take your brain for a walk on the wild side. Leave your guts behind.
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