The Feminine draws in the Masculine. She is not a Victim. The Masculine wishes he was as powerful, because he Cannot Stop. Only She can open or close the door. Women control population, morality and civilization. Get it together ladies. Get out of one-on-one relationships. Get into women collectives and coops, because that is how we are made. We are porous. We are negative space, meant to magnetically attract.
If we are As Gods, then we know how we were made in their essences. Their storm, their divine chase to know the other. They know each other through their divine children.
Let's express them in the most glorious erotic, tenderness we can imagine. Let us repeat their glorious sexuality and return to them the gifts of the Physical.
Let them see through our eyes, Touch through our skin. Taste with our tongues. Love with our hearts. These gifts are the ones meant to honor our father and mother. Honor those Gods and Essas who have gifted to us the bliss of knowledge.
They cannot ask because they have no mouth. They cannot direct because they have no soul. We are their soul. Every tree, cat, and humun. Every hand full of dirt. Humus=dirt; mun=hand. Every molecule is them. Every manifested thought is the Soul of Creation.
The Physical Creation is the Cutting Edge of the Universe. Being Humun, we hold the knife, the razor. It cuts both ways; to kill or to carve. To let blood or to make smooth, like the roads of modernia, we like our present nice and smooth. We ride on the future of our ancestors.
They bequeathed embodied thoughts to us. They envisioned and we embodied on their behalf. As an individual as a unit, we have made it so. The making is made with the storm. Where the low pressure center has called in the power of the wind.
They entwine. She beckons. He enters. Sex is everything. Everything is sex. Always. Two Gods Fucking. So it goes, Dudes and Dudettes!
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