Bombastic

adjective
these rivals have alternated violent attacks with bombastic speeches pompous, blustering, turgid, verbose, orotund, high-flown, high-sounding, overwrought, pretentious, ostentatious, grandiloquent; informal highfalutin, puffed up; rare fustian.

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Perhaps the next phase of weapon systems will utilize dream state architecture and dream cities and dream spaces — destruction of flesh-based delusions is perhaps a thing of the past now… so let’s see what sort of Russian spices we can bring to the dinner gala…

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Oh, and so I’ve started my summer reading…  Ayn and Blavatsky and of course Nabokov

Regarding Speak Memory, I have a tale to tell by summer’s end…

-Ilya Alexander Terra

“Namaste,” he said while bowing with a hint of smile.

“Oh, hey, how are you doing?”

“Not bad… Kinda going through a crisis…”

“Why, what’s happened?”

“…No, nothing, it’s just that I’m tired of this service industry – I mean it pays good, but…  Look, I give this guy a massage, been doing it for nearly 16 years… not complaining, as it pays well, but…  It’s not hitting me anymore… I need more…”

“You’re going through the next phase man, time to go deeper…”

“Yeah…”

“Well, you know last weekend was the convergence of the first wave, right?”  I interjected.

“Yes!”

“Well?  Have you thought about “Soul Massage”? – the name just came to me…  I mean what could be more evolutionary than preparing the energy signature of beings toward a balanced passage – there’s no alternate route.”

He took a step back, with goosebumps visible on his arms, “I just had a dream about something like this the other night!”

“It’s yours…  Make it your brand,  my humble gift to you,” I smiled, certain of the clarity and integrity of message.

We chatted for a bit longer, and took leave of each other, both of us feeling one small step brighter…

I hope Socrates will take the torch and ignite souls along the way…

-IAT

Let’s have a big old bonfire

And have, um,  s’mores?

What a silly old bore…

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White, Black, and Red,

The colors of knights’ dread…

But this is no simple night’s dream,

So drink with me and break this humble bread:

Often struggle between the State and the Individual is defined by spaces in between…

It’s emptiness in the formation which defines its function.

As water flows into the void

So does a nation bows its debt to its heroes,

Upon whose blood it feasts.

-Iliad Alexander Terra

But you’re right — I’m about to break free though…

Oh and… intellect is over-rated. Physical prowess and intellectual prowess are best utilized by a heartless motherland — an abstract deformed parasitic symbol, heartless and devoid of the capacity to love — can the state love?

What is supreme and cosmic and inherent is a clear soul — it supersede intellect — the ancients are well aware of that — the battles in this world are not over energy nor land, but over logos…, the dialectic of duality versus monism.

Love reigns supreme, and I just kissed you — did you feel it?

Anyhow the whole damn thing revolves around the struggle to understand, so it’s quite apropos that we’re getting drunk standingunder a bridge ;)

yellow dress blowing in the wind on a blue summer day as she walks through narrow streets of an island village