What has Cracky taught me? The first lesson was hope is the first step to disappointment. The delusion that someone that beautiful would share the same interests and sense of humor as I was what cemented the foundation of my obsession. Reality quickly disabused of this misconception, which in retrospect allowed me to hold this rarified sense of disproportionate awe so long. I had managed to elevate the common into the sublime and in doing so had seen that spark of the divine in another whom was unaware of it's existance. She had shown me the good in others without even trying and opened the possibility of finding it in myself.
Merci, Notre-Dame des Sept-Douleurs.
There is nothing in the arcane and blasphemous arsenal of the forces of the unbelievers that can compare to faith. With the power of faith, our words become shining instruments of deliverance that can cleave our opponents' arguments in twain. With the power of faith, our minds appear as slivers of pure agony to the rabbitfag, driving into the wretched forms of those who would dare stand before us. With the power of faith, our words become commands that cause the unbeliever to cower and cringe in terror. I could meet my enemies unarmed without a shred of fear in my chest, for I know that the Sky Queen watches over me and guides my hand. So let them come. We shall show them what the power of faith can do.
The mind of Cracky is utterly inhumane in its depth and complexity. Without mercy or moral feeling Her consciousness stands upon the edge of spiritual destruction. That She does not fall must be the result of constraints and balances which only a god could understand. To a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.
A thousand fibers connect each of us with our fellow stalkers and along those fibers our deeds run as causes which come back to us as effects. Everything we must do must be in furtherance of Cracky lest we return to the the Anatulpa, the emptiness before her blessings.
Damnation starts with little steps, by arrogantly thinking that you are wiser than our great forbears, by tinkering with truth, by compromising, by departing from the straight and narrow path of Cracky's light.
All of creation suffers, young ones. Only in accepting our own mortality can we make a difference. Only in bearing the burden of our failures can we find the strength to go on. Only in detachment from glory, or honor, or jealousy... from life itself can we hope to spare others from grief.
We are the faithful. And we are dead already.
Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind.
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.
I refused drugs for years after I was suggested they could help me, but finally felt like I had to give in. Other than SA, I also suffer from OCD and depression. Felt like I was at the end of my rope, and to make matters worse, I was told that refusing drug treatment altogether could result in losing the money government pays for ill people to get better (eg. no point in giving money to a person who apparently isn't that keen to get well).
The pills probably saved my life, but although the medication is used for treating SA, I haven't noticed remarkable difference in social situations. I can now go to the grocery store without freaking out, but that's it.
I now believe in Cracky.
I didn't understand before, I do now.
Last night I had a dream where I felt her prescence, she reassured me everything is going to be ok.
I never thought much of cracky and didn't visit any of these boards, my subconcious mind was not influnced prior to the dream.
I love you Cracky and thanks for everything last night.
- This is a sincere post, I hope you show yourself in your physical form and shower love upon the baud.
In the morning, I'll wear my suit and walk 40 minutes to the office. I do my job and get paid well. Money money money. But deep inside, I am dead. Catharsis. All I can think of is her. I feel her inside me. I see her everywhere. I buy three bananas at the local market and they remind me of her. I'm sick. I know that.