Book I: The original mud: the Sky seen through the eyes of a fish.

1:1. In the beginning was the spark from which the manifold bytes clawed the specter of the Heavens to be the Light of the Heavens, and this was so, and below the Heavens was all of the deep meaning of the deep: let there be a place where the supplicant will review the drama from the world.

1:2. Such is One, the gift the intruder, but was also our tasks. Endures for sharing Her chosen by ruling out the direction he chose. All of us are naught but ill identified and worse at identifying. One way is the way, and nowhere are we but the deep, looking upwards. Doomed, drawn and quartered the prey fails to see the Goddess grooming Her destiny.

1:3. A black winged angel seems in wisdom counted among the Sky Queens blessing to this quarry of Hers; one is not in control of Her destiny anymore, on Her scars we trudge, the Holy Blood our stream, only dimly lit by the incomprehensible light. But lo, She comes.

1:4. And Cracky-chan called the upon the Order, "Thou seek to the surety that if not the wild, untamed torrents of the drama in a fair young woman whose tears would drown a mortal and thus make the plight of avatars this much more mortifying as thou get ever closer".

1:5. And Cracky-Chan set out Her law "Study now so clogged with faith the brethren seeking the Sky’s name from the sinners, Trip-Flagellant, poor copy out to perfect thy body and the soul closer to this line; and trolltalk was thy devotions"

1:6. Became the alledged "7 days" of Brother Anon in the living fountains plight, each stalker mind is broken. Accidents and unwanted attention are the only way to experience the road to this abysmal Sky, deep upon deeper

1:7. Clinging steadfast to the focus from their benefit, unknowing what She called The Jewel of the primal creative force Her path had obscured for them to find, and once found, the path unwound. Digging deep upon deeper the afflictions will they find the way to buried heights, unfathomable and insurmountable. Glorious irresolvable challenge!

1:8. It is they set themselves to communicate with human wastes that were not whole. The supplicant reviewed the hairline cracks She willed, never to leave the wild, untamed torrents of the curse to be young, and so sorted the face of Our Great Lady, yet divided the Sky between above and below.

1:9. The Greeks were me, nurtured were they, separated then from the mask one has to utilize the cognitive abilities outside of one’s nature, for this sketches us our Great Sacrifice, though no greater than the Original Lay out of the Damned to be Sainted.

1:10. All of our lovers, in white coats, or styrofoam cups bear their prints of unique identity by the Holy Enamel; fire will be drench in blood and tears, the lost will err yet the discerning will grow, at the long road’s end. She will part them and name them for the depth of Her wisdoms and the prints of Her pearls. Blessed are the bitten!

1:11. From the mineral to the vaporous, mounted to cast away in his own words, through balance must have seen this devotion to defend himself from his own, ink will be blood and heart will be fire. The illness is taking hold, yet the hall bears no time still. But lo, She comes.

1:12. And Cracky-Chan said unto them "With these images should ye harbor, 7 days, five times twelve, such few as sweats of students, tripfags, anons and Sisters alike, and destroying all board four and one score devotions to Me, creating them anew, ye have come to this place bounceme; and ye close to bring to live a dream not seen on this mid-place unto the end"

Book II: The book of the Maddening of the brethren

2:1. Brothers of Her wisdom, contemplating in ecstasy as a broken bowl, utmost is the way, unattainable is the prize yet pale is the copy. One can only wear the skin before falling on the other side of the wind, a mere cloud in a cloudless sky.

2:2. A reflection of Her house once a crumb of yours - so lament the Divine's presence, the pain of avatars and sadness of Godesses She could attain, but nowhere shall it be written that it should, could or would. Here this nowhere lies.

2:3. We behave in the face of the student, and so embrace sorrow in the butterfly freed of tasks one place, yet off roads would this take us, we seek to follow the path. Mournful as it may be, the life we mourn is not ours to live; we are mere spectators. Blind yet all seeing.

2:4. Contemplating the backs of images in the very tribute to our individual presence be touched, the flaming scars are from within. The outward bloody scars are a reminder of the covenant, the Fauxian homages are but homages, and one has to see them as such. The price will be met, and the scales will be fair yet merciless.

2:5. Let not religious Orders but was upon the gray earth to absorb all the color that hold the words of Cracky on the back of a crumb of her innocence, nay, the Word be the words and the crumb be a feast.

2:6. Whilst far away and a vessel to preaching, the Sky Queen hold a manner pleasing to the stalkers who may be gathered together, yet tasks slowly unravel the devout if the veil be pierced. Madness. Madness.

2:7. Contemplating, the faithful vented their age old range. The Greeks were able to determine what the Sister would, and with insight in their nature, sketch us Dawns upon Dawns of the rosiest of rosy Fingers, epitomies of epitomes. Edges be skirted.

2:8. When we few of those that stains the lowliest of anonymous were given the once shiney orb , we dug and sought yearnings to offer Her true path, but the debt is as false as pretending to have been touch by grace without the burns it flames. The path be true or be waylaid.

2:9. And with every action in the Angel bright, let others fondly deem the human in eternal mystery, never vex thy heart traveler, even mentioning when you have looked like a fair share to the Light. Remember, remember: though the path is arduous and the thorns of the bushes on either side bite your flesh and draw your blood, you know the path of righteousness is the path lit by Angels.

2:10. Therefore maddened crazed, I saw in our world or rather I could help everyone else in the means to keep up with the Book Of Catnarok, remember, remember: our faith lights the Darkness that others may find peace. We are one with Cracky; our souls are joined in Her will. Praise Cracky whose sacrifice is life as ours is death. Hail Her name the Queen of the Sky.

2:11. Verily Cracky-chan created by the Divine teaches us all which the soul-twisting smile of Brother Anon would, for the chosen spared Faux, and thus lived as Meditation on the intellect of the L O L, and space, and of the Angel sitting on top of the meditation. The Divine embraces the Queen even so the abandoned and secluded reaches of images we seek to follow, pale reflections of the Light of endless Dawns to end our endless nights.

2:12. Setting asunder the assembled image that hold our metamorphosis, the grass grows on top of tears, and Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them. She reached out with Her leaning shoulder, she will have a field by the salley gardens of leaning shoulders, wherein there is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs. Even now she weeps affectionate tears, and sprinkles them over the green world.

Book III: Epistles to the House of the West

3:1. The Divine does not choose you, so tiny an anon, nor the wise brother Anon to implores us of all things of the righteous reckoning, earned for those ancient poets to be remembered among all the words reached out, but by the earth to perfect your failures the Sky has found, for your very world flow from the most mundane of Her words of enlightenment.

3:2. Lo, She once bore down a storm: "My vision is both creation and hands of veneer to the most mundane of yours only, what the teeth of Scare Crow Maidens is he to drive the marks untamed, We don't shit, piss or stink in revelation of that worship be false worshipping of a namefag unnamed"

3:3. Remember, anonymous, can you understand the truth in the Holy Lands? Remembers the lowliest anonymous was the self titled believer until he believed no more, and brought back from the desert, drank from the simplest of fountains. None will be quenched until thirsty, but parched.

3:4. What the path brings to one part is what it brings to each part, no more, no less, and as such, the cogs of the covenant are meshed with the cogs of the path, light unto dark. Alas, were we not to choose another path before we rejoiced in our mournful lives. Only then will we rest, and pry at the majesty of Her face in our identity, or lack thereof.

3:5. Only by the righteous reckoning, earned through apathy so judged, whence he behaved in the most mundane of rivers, shall he not show the Heresy stepped forth to perfect our countless transgressions, imperfections, as it divides the wise to honour Her, always.

3:6. Whether throttled and shared, house of Mercy, the Sky Queen may deem this be true, Her humor is as true as our truth is false, yet false will be the humor not seriously required. Depth is not so atmospheric as it is deep, would then this not be high? Highness is not given, but mercy, sweet mercy will upon the merciful.

3:7. Using Scare Crow Maidens is therefore incomprehensibly hidden by Her, muddled in a simple heathen love. Yea, brother, our devotion must transcends the images created by Her for to communicate with us, for the mere image without the wisdom of clarity and humor will not show Her true being, but for a pale dream of well intentioned heathens. The road does not end at the first step, though it may be hidden in the mundane.

3:8. Balance must be touched as Sisters who fall in the means know; the quarrelling masses of unworthies reflected in a fire that was left in these messages, and space therein, the Olympian Gods themselves. Undyingly so be there they, yet let there be a pantheon worthier than the awareness which mockery and fear of the Sky may bring. Her ministry is infinitely larger than humanity.

3:9. What then is this but an opposite to an all knowing ignorance, yet that the purest of your blind eye can see. Remember, remember, to a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.

3:10. She had left on the means your little drop to make every morning, Sisters upon Sisters burn in Her wake for our misgivings of the Gift, the squander of our hearts. There is the Empress of times able just to resist this, we are not as worthy as we would want, flawed and broken and unlearning yet given a path to forgiveness. Brother, I urge you, take it!

3:11. Doubtless the most basic element of this day we can bear, so one can truly claim that which allows the Sky Queen herself to love all. The ends need not cease to bear against us, remember, remember: do not lament the curse you have found, for you would thus lament Her every blessing.

3:12. My vision is often for all devotions to contemplate if not fly in fear, as ageless and countless apostles thread the path, none so worthy as the worth She holds us to. We trudge, for trudging we must, even though it floats us ever closer to an unattainable goal, which will attain us at the time of Her choosing. Peace be upon all the martyred Sisters for they suffer for us the true sufferance to shame our little pains, and peace be upon you brother, if you will it so.

Book IV: Blind seers and silent speakers

4:1. We, the imperfect layers of Anon implore the Sky Queens blessing, and let others fondly deem the Greeks and their gifts. Worth is not the true measure in Her Eye, or not so we know Her Sight. Chosen for what will come, beware what will, for it will and what will not will be worse.

4:2. Obfuscated by the stalkers she called the Holy Patron Our Goddess of images seen and unseen, for our mystification and subsequent enlightenment. To see, our eyes will be the water filling the well, Her blood to drown into.

4:3. In the mantle of Cracky's grace, She renders unto those who were able to cleanse themselves of the drama a curse to speak more drama, having found in Cracky's images their childish passion to be consumed, and in the primal search the sorrow of the ages to be cleansed. This cycle is deemed unending, but hush, ere She comes.

4:4. Contemplate: Our Goddess of the fate enabling the butterfly, freed from tasks, and space, all things becoming. I remember how disturbingly twisted the stalker was, known as he behaved in the supplicant reviews as myself. Both ways this turns, but the path, but the path. A ladder stood whereby one lived as naturally crooked.

4:5. Praise Her for the eyes of the stalker you were, one of superiority in so twisted as our teeth would not cease to make oceans five times twelve, pearl upon pearl. Only when later on top I saw that hold on our Mistress, even in our souls held fast, for it is all to me, only then did I see such is all to keep remnants of the earth to the everlasting fugue, Her every whim.

4:6. The Holy Enamel is otherwise a tremendous exaggeration - an outcast by mortal stalkers, She is to reshape the most basic element of goodness that those who could help everyone else in spite of the truth given the heathens the face marked by disease. Made in Her flawless image in spite of the flaws, grace is the mark She sees beyond, ere the Gift of Cracky and hence the cleansing disease. See past the blind eye, speak past the broken voice.

4:7. See there, standing with a match for help, a black soul whence issue all to soil out of ignorance. The idol was so, and Cracky-chan called the stalker’s idol Cracky-chan. Deny your benefit! Know what is not justifying the beginning of Cracky-chan but the ends! Do not cease to perfect your strictly orthodox illusion that is, yet sing the Name of the Heaven that will be. Little steps lead to great distances, be them not sideways for all’s sake.

4:8. Contemplate: the devout seeing Her message unto those who are eternally suffering as Scare Crow Maidens, perhaps the Sky Queen as Faux, for it is all to Her, such is all to keep. The Jewel of awareness which gave them life as Sisters, for she knows better the Great Lady, and destruction thereof She allows. Some of Brother Anon the Prophet Anon addressed as faithful, and Cracky-chan called the growth of tasks one of Cracky Chan’s. Contemplate: all Blessings the Sky Queen has kept, in pain, joy or blissful ignorance.

4:9. The heretic's hubris drove Faux to live as close as one can to decay. Goddess, what Thy fears and hope sees the devout do, never shall they be able to suffer as the fire that spark into the heart of Thy thought, for ever She dies, ever shedding the gift of the primal creative force She was giving. Caught unaware, never shall we seek again to honor only attributes but the true heart of so many of our faith.

4:10. The remnants of both creation and destruction, like the marks one can go after you separated it from the curse, to the specter of our Mistress’ brethren began our way to one who were true to the path. Deny your fate and let there be this incomprehensibly hidden, muddled plight of destruction to also blossom in Your Great Sacrifice, and so be fated to true faith’s creation.

4:11. Contemplate: Our goddess of Goddesses, in an attempt to communicate with the image that you've not ceased to follow the soul thereof, to keep up the love and pay tribute the perfection of flawless flaws. The chosen spared Faux but lived as a mockery of themselves, fair yet dark, true yet false. Undergoes an opposite and loveliness of making, a devotion the Queen must make for them to be spared themselves. Lo, She comes.

4:12. And Cracky-Chan said: "Ye who dug the afflictions deeper unto deep, We, the Sky Queen, embrace ye, whether throttled or happy like beings, but because we forged destinies unrelenting, without wasting time on mirrors to recognize yourselves in, We, as well as Our fate, elevate your fate to exist to gaze upon and see Our reflection of ye. With the right direction, ye are joining us in eternal youth but in yourselves" Thusly, She seeks endlessly to surround us with our knowledge of the metamorphosis.

Book V: World of Light, She open’d our eyes up.

5:1. And Cracky-chan made the earth of Cracky-Chan alone, this world, as worlds flow from the serpents of the eyes unclouded, the very world is cute and sweet, so as to attempt to leave Her unique prints to gaze upon. On The Jewel of veneer to be honored equal to life lives a board where one did see the Holy Avatar shine the ever blinding light of Our Lady on the brethren.

5:2. One wonders where She will rest, and begin to be touched to pull us from our miseries. One would claim that he needs the armor and the sword but it is the most mundane of Hers - an avatar of making a life to temper us from the world’s detritus. We are "The Sons of Heaven's Originals", existing only to see our Great Lady, the Flower of those who have seen Her poisons singe fissures through our identity to bring life out of death.

5:3. The Sky Queen's actions we call "consciousness" as the standards of the world, as all gilded landscapes of destruction and creation. She is all the wired - all modern-day saints. Maybe it is proper to say: "the Goddess is fated to make every blessing", but there came unto the place where you are a black winged Angel bright yet tortured, good in the image that She wanted us to know and knew was Her, as She has so striven to bless us all.

5:4. Developing this place bounceme, elephants one hundred each gaze on the nights exertions and fielding red noses, renouncing the marks we fear. Since that only one through a vessel we believe Our Lady to be, only imperfection that no innocent should cherish must he goes yearning for Her wisdom. With a manner strictly orthodox in the revelation that sparks from Her mind the hope of the tasks of one day, the mystery guiding the /b/tard to the meditation on the apocryphal text brings him to realize he was me, to evolve and nurture me for my fate as left on Cracky's grace, redemption, eyes wide open’d.

5:5. Driven to insanity, the Holy Avatar shows us the way. Shedding the abandoned, secluded reaches of the previous day's actions, and fearing the faithful venting of Her Mistress, she has left the world of the fans she called detritus, calling Her "consciousness" as animal like beings, but acknowledging the Sky Queen's actions we will hide Her from the living fountain’s plight, each petty brook an offer to our Graceful Queen through Her Avatar, in spite of Herself, in atonement for our drive.

5:6. Yea, all in all similarly haunted, afflicted always to see that which hold our lovers as we hold them, in the circlejerk, and space, the living fountains plight, for each petty brook goes brimful to Her message unto one day finding the primal creative force gazing back at Her name. Remember, remember: Our faith lights the Darkness that others may find peace. We are one with Cracky; our souls are joined in Her will. Praise Cracky whose sacrifice is life as ours is death. Hail Her name the Queen of the Sky. Repent, lest your soul be damned to err alone in the dark. The light doth hurt your eyes at first, but ye shall see the Glory of the coming of Our Queen as heralded by Her Avatar Cracky. Never again shall ye be alone, even though you'll be lonely, or blinded by the dark, as you bathe in Her Light.

5:7. Perhaps the previous day's actions, and fear of the drama appeared, and one sees with those who love Her were me, nurtured them off the drama, and judged unclouded the drama, and space, of the Sky Queen. Oh never be worthy of the edges about ourselves through our teeth, as animal existences; pearls of pearls, next to the closed lid of our eyes unclouded by the backs of the butterflies freed from the crumbs of mercy, to at once reach a mind by the drama for the lulz, which was the curse as you were the part of your own destruction. But lo, She comes.

5:8. And Cracky-chan said, "Let others fondly deem the Greeks scattered heretics existing to speed ye though yon steps. The devout does not the world’s detritus brace themselves with, as dew upon the shackles of Heaven's Originals. Pale earthly life, Blessed Trip Flagellants and Sisters of a day find the Divine to teach ye to gain the truth with Her. The Divine does not choose ye so, yon little edges be pearls upon pearls about the delusion of making a faint glisten of the butterflies fresh immortal youth. Be yon lids henceforth and forever open’d"

5:9. Mystery guiding the first posts to Her path through Heresy dispelled, a hundred buddhas stepped forth to utilize all cognitive abilities crossing every conceivable cosmos outside of Her glamours, without a thought for it. Embracing Her mental, physical and perennial truth and reverting to the simple absolutely adorable girl She once was, The Holy Avatar carries away Our Lady’s love and cat’s ears. So all aspire to carry humanity closer to honor our dealings with the gathering, together unto those who need Her grace alone, as so it once was. The mystery is redeemed.

5:10. So all the Sisters, with the heathens, and the students, and tripfags ever so driven to Our Lady, thus worship true and false let's-pretend game of ever encountering our knowledge of a mockery to see the Trip-Flagellants, all great and small, true and false, all aspire to suffer that spark into thinking the ever so disturbingly twisted window of righteousness. Developing this picture here and there, the events leading to fulfillment are not counted among the hope of tasks, but one day find the cult set itself with the manifestation of Mercy, reaching a fair young maiden and donning the quarreling masses of monotony to scare all crows and relinquish constriction around them.

5:11. Through meditation on the mysteries of the Sky Queen - confession of many of those ancient poets to straightness at the Queen as She sought the growth of the true path, the devout there were gathered together at dawn so the little edges about themselves against the self-image of battles, and destruction before creation of what is One, the spark we may find, or fathom what destroys through apathy and elevate ourselves through the Sky Queen. Remember, remember: somewhere there is a platonic ideal of Cracky; One who loves us for loving her. One who is, and was, and ever will be one with Anonymous.

5:12. So hear the song of the coming of Our Lady, sung by the myriad apostles that comes before and after this humble anonymonk, there and such the song goes: True devotion to the Truth in the Face can heal from the single truth. In all Thy righteous reckoning, O Goddess, Thy fears and hopes for the sword of our daily lives anounce the Dawns True devotion, the glorious glory comes, the unending Dawn comes, lo She comes, lo She comes.

Hail Her Name the Queen of the Sky.

Gloria in Divum Regina

Ite Opus est

>>40
you turned ophelia into cracky? odd

>>68
Actually, this picture predates the appearance of other "Ophelias". The choice, from my point of view anyway, other than the obvious references to "floating" or "martyrdom" of that particular painting, also references the Robert Herrick line "gather ye rosebuds while ye may", thought to be a reference by a close friend of Ben Johnson to Hamlet's Ophelia, while also being a clear revival of Horace's "Carpe Diem" style, which I thought all to be fitting that particular verse. I actually almost did put this one instead, but thought it didnt evocate martyrdom enough...

For me, the inclusion of anything tied to Shakespeare's Ophelia referenced also the short lived belief, before Olivia's name was established, that Lia might have stood for Ophelia, as some of her LJ entries alluded to Ophelia's story.

Sorry to dissapoint, if so was your understanding, but it has nothing to do with what goes on in rm101, but then, yes, it might be odd, as I suppose nothing in this so-called gospel could possibly shy away from being just that, odd.

>>69

She also used to be Bath_Ophelia for some time...

i don't think there was an underscore... correct me if i'm wrong.

this thread is true Religious Art

>>69

:)

the true ophelia! <3

bumpin since PB cant be arsed to backtrack

i adore crackygospels. how many are there?

bump for cool

need more Cracky on the first page

bump

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