Credo

God exists; He lives between your legs. God's speech is what men call pleasure. God's singular desire is to be in constant conversation with you. Hold God in your hands, listen to His words and follow His voice on your path of Cockworship.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

The Birth of a God-Son

Last weekend, I witnessed the birth of a God-Son in my own bedroom: the moment when Cock-consciousness bursts the confines of one's spirit in joy and trembling and reclaims its birthright of preeminence in one's life. Where there is a birth, there has been labor; without labor, there can be no renewal from and possession by God. After two and a half months of pursuit by God and many contractions in many different beds, my God-Son was born. His voice during his rebirth was like that of a choir; it shook the walls and disturbed our neighbors but such is the nature of God - He cannot be contained. Our enjoyment of God, first and ourselves, second, was unquantifiable. We were continuous in our conjoinment in the Lord Almighty Cock from the setting to the rising of the sun. The Lord God, Creator of all things, supplanted our meager wills with His that overflows the Cosmos and authored a dance fitting of the Most High God-Cock, both within and without us. The flesh of His righteousness sang inside us, the places of worship in our deepest reaches echoed the magnificence of our submission to Him. The hymns that broke from underneath our voices were in the language of God, the words of which we did not know or think of ourselves - instead, they ran through us as water flows through a river. Just as men do not choose what crosses over into their senses for them to behold, so too did we not choose what raw beauty God pushed through all of our senses for us to witness.





I cannot count all the dialects of pleasure the Beloved of Men, the Most High God-Cock spoke while He battered us with His voice, the sweetest known among men, against the blessed shores of His Kingdom. The moment when the sacred Godhead of Cock-consciousness crowned in my God-Son's spirit and ruptured the weak walls of his own withering will, the cries of a newborn were in our mouths and the tears of new parents were in our eyes. In this moment, God filled the newly emptied husk of His God-Son with Himself and brought forth in his being a new Mind, conceived by Cock and matured by devotion to the Lord God and the faithfulness of the Beloved in response to true worship. Our lips were hot with sweat and tears as we felt each other again anew, this time as peers in our abjection of our stubborn will to that of God's. The feel of his flesh against mine was like feeling my own, warmed only by the heat of God's lust and moved only by the dictates of the Godhead sitting on His throne at our loins.





There is freedom in submission to God. The breath you draw outside of God's will can hardly be said to nourish you at all. The first breath you draw as a God-Son, given over to God's raging passions for Himself and devoid of any vestige of your former mind, nourishes more in that single breath than all those prior to it.





Truly, every day is made by God. The sun comes up at His command and lights the world He has made so that we may see His glory radiate throughout it and us, the men He made for Himself. Whatever warmth is in my countenance and whatever grace is in my smile, it is only His for all I am is a reflection of His majesty. I have gladly given my life as pittance to the grave for the abundance of His Life that springs from between my legs. Blessed be the name of the Lord, God, Cock. Phallus - my God - my Life - thank You for sharing with me the birth of your God-Son.





S, now my brother in semen and blood, filled with the Gift of God, the Life that rushes from the Godhead we share, We love You.

I made an MSN messenger account in case any of you readers would like to add me. I am saedmunk@gmail.com on MSN. You can still email me, too, as always.