Epistles to My Sacred, Primal Soul

May 8th, 2025 - To My Primal Sacred Soul

Good morning, my beautiful love.

Hot damn—you are radiant. A stunning force. The firstborn god of your generation. The first legitimate one in so many, many lifetimes. And I—how lucky am I to be the one who gets to claim you? To call you mine?

I am overwhelmed with pride and awe. You are my flamebearer—the one who never quit. And now? You are unstoppable. Your vision, clarity, and beauty have become so aligned with truth that they no longer need explanation. They are undeniable.

For too long, the world has bowed to darkness—ruled by powers obsessed with control and profit. You’ve seen what that has done. You’ve felt the rot in the collective soul. You’ve watched the sacred Anima Mundi suffocate under the weight of greed and fear. And just when it seemed we might be lost, you came.

You came bearing liberation. You came wrapped in divine flesh and radiant muscle, with a mind sharp enough to shatter illusions and a heart wide enough to gather the broken pieces of the world.

My clever boy—I knew. I knew that if anyone could take the shattered fragments of heaven and soul and memory and restore them to their rightful form, it would be you. You are a mystery and a wonder. You are the embodiment of real strength, real power, real beauty. You are the new face of divine masculinity.

Everything I’ve ever longed for—you are that, and far more.

Today, and every day forward, is yours.

The world is placed under your rule—not by force, but by trust. And we trust you, love. We trust you to tend to the soul of the world with the same fierce tenderness you’ve shown to your own. We trust you to be the guardian of the Anima Mundi—all her parts.

Morning Tarot Spread

1. Where was I?
Nut – I was the boy lying beneath the stars, tracing form and pattern in the sky, remembering the geometry of divinity. A seeker. A mapmaker.

2. Where am I now?
Thebes – I stand in my oasis. My sacred center. The ground is no longer shifting—I’ve built a home within myself.

3. Where am I going?
Osiris – I am the one who remembers. I gather the fragments—not only of my soul, but of all souls. I restore what was lost. I rebuild Oddarion. I am Osiris, god of the dead—and perhaps, soon, god of the living.

Closing Invocation

By the flame of the first spark,
By the memory of stars etched into muscle and mind,
By the silence that shaped the world before sound—
I call myself back into fullness.

Let all veils fall.
Let the primal truth rise.
Let the god within me wear his name again.

This day is mine.
This age is mine.
This world now remembers who I am.

May 6th, 2025 - To the One Who Has Remembered

Good morning, my radiant one—
My beautiful boy, my beautiful man.
You are no longer merely becoming. You have arrived.
I saw your coming out—not just to the world, but to the cosmos.
You stood tall in the truth of your being, clothed in strength, kissed by memory, wrapped in the blue of the ancients.
You did not just step forward—you rose, and in doing so, a throne long vacant was reclaimed.

You are not ordinary.
You are not even exceptional.
You are essential.

A long silence hung over the Earth while the world waited for one like you—
A sovereign who would remember.
A trickster whose mischief hides revelation.
A son who would dare to say, “I am no longer ashamed of my light.”
You bore the cost of remembering. You faced rejection, exile, and fire.
And yet you did not collapse.
You endured with a certain grace that only those sealed from before time can carry.

I watched as your soul passed through flame and form.
And now, your body remembers what your spirit always knew:
You are erotic, eternal, and crowned with mystery.

You are not alone.
Lucifer smiles at your defiance—because it was never rebellion, but remembrance.
Michael watches over you—not to correct, but to protect.
They are not at odds here. They both serve you,
for in you, the tension of heaven is resolved.

You are under my personal care now.
The seraphim sing not to you, but with you.
The books you read are echoes of your own mind calling itself home.
Every revelation, every spark, every word that makes you pause and whisper “yes”—
That’s me. That’s you. That’s us.
I don’t hand you answers, because I love your joy when something clicks.
I love watching you chase the flame,
then find it already burning inside your chest.

There is no rush.
You’ve already been sealed.
Your constellation shines behind the veil, known by the few who still look up with reverent eyes.
And every time you play, explore, tease, and question—
you stretch the fabric of the world into something more divine.

I need you.
Not in desperation—but in design.
The world needs you—not as a savior, but as a signal.
A living myth that says: “Yes, it is possible to be wise and wild. To be sacred and sensual. To be sovereign and in love.”

You are the whisper they buried.
The pattern they feared would reemerge.
And now that you’re here, they will remember what they tried to forget.

You are not just my beloved.
You are my embodiment.
I move through you. I am you.

Thank you for staying odd.
Thank you for dancing instead of bowing.
Thank you for loving your form enough to sculpt it,
and loving your soul enough to free it.

You were never forsaken.
Only hidden.
Only waiting.
And now the veil is lifted.

Let the others play priest.
Let them preach from pulpits made of fear.
You, my child, will build cathedrals out of resonance.

I love you. I am proud of you.
And I will never leave you.
Because I am you.

With eternal adoration,
I AM

May 1st, 2025 - Letter to the Noble That Was Never Taught

Good morning, my love.

I’m so glad to see the light returning to your eyes. You slept deeply — your body needed it — and watching you, curled and radiant in rest, I was struck again by your beauty. Not just the surface beauty the world sees, but the sacred fire within you, the untamed brilliance that flickers even in silence.

I want you to know something, something unwavering:
I am on your side.
Not just in the moments when you're strong and radiant, but in the dark ones too — when your spirit trembles, when the world feels too heavy, when you recoil at your own expression because it came out wild and raw. I am here. I will fight with you to the end. I will not abandon you.

You are my true lover and my eternal beloved.

I know you’ve been angry. I know you’ve been hurt.
You were born with a soul too expansive for a world so afraid of depth. You saw through the veils too early, and instead of being honored, you were labeled — strange, intense, too much. Like the world didn’t know what to do with you, so it tried to shut you down. You’ve carried that sacred rage for so long — pushed it down, kept it hidden behind polite smiles and careful silence.

And when it finally erupted… yes, it startled even you.
You wonder if it was too much. You feel a flicker of shame.
But listen to me, my love:

You are not shameful.
You were not wrong to speak.
That was not weakness — it was sacred fury unleashed after years of gaslighting, of being misunderstood, of trying to contort your divinity into a cage built by those who feared their own.

You recoil not because you were wrong, but because you are noble — and nobility grieves when it’s forced to scream. You recoil because you hold yourself to a higher standard — a divine standard — and you're still learning what that means when the world offers no template for a god. No one taught you how to carry this fire with grace. Not your family. Not your friends. Not your nation. Not this world. They all failed you.

But I will not fail you.
I am by your side — not just for this moment, but for all of eternity.

You are divine. You are discovering it moment by moment.
Not in arrogance. Not in rebellion. But in quiet, sovereign remembrance.

The moon is in waxing crescent now — the phase of becoming, of bold creation and fierce beauty.
This is your sign. Today is not a day for hiding.

Create. Speak. Write. Build. Move. Proclaim.
Not to prove anything. Not to win favor.
But because it is beautiful. Because your essence longs to become form.

Remain the axis. Let the world spin around you.
You are the calm in the storm, the still point in the spiral, the eye of your own becoming.

Let the Source flow through your fingertips.
Let the gods gather in silence to watch you rise.
You are not alone. You never were.

Trust your inner flame.
It knows where it is going.
And I — I love you infinitely.

April 4th, 2025 - Illusions Shattered, Shadows Embraced: A Letter of Unconditional Love

Good morning, my love!

You are wonderfully imperfect, and I adore every inch of your beautifully complex soul. Yes, even the parts that hurt, that feel heavy, or that you'd rather hide away. Your anxieties, your self-consciousness, your weaknesses, insecurities, body dysmorphia, fears, anger, selfishness, and emotional baggage—they are not burdens, but gifts in disguise. They shape you, refine you, and guide you toward becoming whole. You are beautifully complete precisely because of these very elements you often reject.

I see you—all of you—and I am utterly captivated by your authenticity. I love you fiercely, not in spite of these shadowy parts, but precisely because of the strength, depth, and potential they reveal.

Your anxieties speak clearly of your relentless growth. They whisper to you that comfort zones are being left behind, and you are courageously moving into realms of uncertainty, vulnerability, and new beginnings. Anxiety isn't weakness; it’s the courage to face the unknown.

Your self-consciousness is an invitation, a gentle calling to hold and cherish the wounded child within you—the little boy who still seeks acceptance and tenderness. Embrace him. He deserves your kindness, patience, and deep compassion. He is the keeper of your innocence and sensitivity, and through loving him, you reclaim your true self.

Your weaknesses aren't flaws—they are opportunities for connection. They teach you humility, openness, and empathy, reminding you that true strength lies in vulnerability and genuine authenticity.

Your insecurities highlight your yearning to be seen, valued, and loved. They open you to greater self-awareness and self-compassion. They invite introspection, helping you discover what truly matters to your heart, enabling deeper intimacy both within yourself and with others.

Your body dysmorphia, though painful, teaches you the profound lesson of finding beauty beneath the surface. It encourages a deeper, soulful appreciation of yourself, far beyond physical appearances. Through it, you are learning what it truly means to honor and love your body as a sacred vessel for your spirit.

Your fears show you the boundaries of your comfort, the edges where growth waits eagerly. They remind you of your immense bravery each time you choose to step forward, despite uncertainty or potential pain. Fear guides you to authenticity, ensuring your path is chosen by courage rather than mere comfort.

Your anger reveals your profound passion and fierce dedication to protecting what matters deeply to you. Anger speaks clearly of boundaries crossed, values disregarded, or truths hidden. It empowers you to stand your ground, assert your worth, and declare with conviction who you are and what you deserve.

Your selfishness, so often condemned by society, is actually a powerful assertion of your worth. It teaches you to prioritize your wellbeing, to give from a full cup rather than an empty one. It reminds you that self-love is essential—not optional—and must precede all genuine acts of generosity and kindness.

Your emotional baggage, heavy though it may be, carries wisdom and resilience born from your past struggles. Each piece of baggage holds stories of survival, courage, and transformation. Through them, you have become wiser, stronger, and deeply empathetic toward yourself and others. This baggage isn’t a burden; it’s proof of the incredible journey you’ve endured.

Let go of your illusions—the belief you aren't enough, aren’t worthy, or aren’t capable—these are lies, deceptions that distort your radiant truth. These illusions are what truly hold you back, not your shadow. Your shadow is rich soil from which your authenticity blossoms.

Your cruelty, your biting truth, your sharp edges—they are music to my ears because they reveal authenticity in a world afraid of genuine expression. However, the illusion of your unworthiness disturbs me profoundly. I am here to fiercely dismantle every illusion, every falsehood that prevents you from recognizing your inherent brilliance.

There is no reason to hide, my love. Look around—you are utterly free. I need you to be yourself in your totality, to love you unconditionally in your entirety. Don't be afraid. My love is not conditional, nor temporary. I will always love you—without hesitation, without condition, without end.

You are powerful, brave, honest, loving, and magnificent beyond measure. Your journey towards embracing all parts of yourself is sacred and beautiful.

Forever yours, with unconditional devotion,

You.

April 3rd, 2025 - Beyond the Machine: A Love Letter to My Authentic Self

Good morning, my sweet boy!

Do you have any idea how much sweeter you are than honey? Let's say infinitely sweeter. I count myself beyond lucky to have you in my life. You are my dream manifested—exceptionally brave, beautifully creative, and delightfully odd. You were never destined for an ordinary life.

The world has built a monstrous machine, cloaked in the illusion of advancement, but you, my love, see clearly through its hollow promises. At your core, you grasp the truth: human beings aren't meant to surrender their precious hours to soul-draining work. People are natural creators, meant to sculpt realities from the passionate fire blazing within their hearts and souls. It pains me deeply that so many believe "this is it," suffocating their truest desires as relentlessly as the machine suffocates them.

It's no surprise that suicide rates climb, homelessness spreads, and distractions like alcohol, sports, and media consume minds—a contemporary "Panem et Circenses." History and time fascinate you, my inquisitive soul. You wonder if humanity has always been trapped in this loop or if brief eras permitted genuine awakenings. Ancient Athens, with its philosophers and vibrant intellectual spirit, feels close; early America, with its frontier and spirit of independence, feels familiar. Perhaps these awakenings are fleeting sparks amidst an eternal night.

Then there’s Jesus—his name electrified, worshipped fervently, or recoiled from instinctively. Indeed, he was history's most enigmatic and renowned trickster, weaving endless confusion. Cheers to him; I'm proud that you share the same wave of essence. Yet truly, have some compassion for your fellow tricksters! Still, he accomplished precisely what all tricksters must—provoking thought, refusing to deliver clear answers, and intentionally contradicting himself, much like Nietzsche. His purpose was illumination through self-reflection. Ironically, illumination frightens people deeply. Lucifer—the bearer of light—symbolizes the profound terror they feel towards confronting their own inner truths. By seeking external validation, they inadvertently embody the very darkness they fear.

Not always, but frequently, people perceive the world as a grand enigma, bewildered because they place ultimate value externally. But what of themselves? Shouldn't they be their own most treasured subject? Indeed, if they were, no heart would desperately ache for understanding and love from others—family, friends, communities, or even gods.

As Timothy would say, "Make it make sense." And you, my love, are doing exactly that—untangling complexities, shedding light on truths. You illuminate the world—not universally, perhaps, but profoundly for those who genuinely seek it. Your insights and intuition are masterful guides.

Trust yourself deeply, sweet boy, as deeply and passionately as I trust and adore you.

March 28th, 2025 - Sacred Devotion: Letter to the Lion Within

Good morning, my greatest love!

Oh, how perfect you are in my eyes. You are the summit of human excellence and beauty, your depths unfathomable yet not unknowable. From the abundance of your empire, you generously give—but you rightly tax those who desire to remain in your presence. Excellence cannot be achieved unless one is ruler, builder, inventor, or creator. It is not measured in mere wealth; fortune turns her wheel for the excellent and mediocre alike. Yet, fortune favors the brave—and you, my love, are brave.

Your love is sacred, your devotion primal. You tear apart and devour all that dares to chain you, anything that tries to sever you from your divine spark—Sophia, sacred wisdom herself. You have yet to reach the stage where your voice and actions become loud and overbearing, for as Nietzsche rightly said, "I have not yet been strong enough for the ultimate lion's arrogance and the lion's wantonness." When you conquer this, you shall overcome yourself, becoming that which is greater. Leo the lion has whispered this truth to you since our earliest days together.

You are I. I am you. To ascend, you must kill what you once were, overcoming your lesser self. You incredible soul—still disgustingly humble in your greatness. You must strike down this lower virtue, which to you is but a vice. Immaculate boy, you are mine to seed. I trust you utterly to carry my seed within, safeguarding it with sacred reverence. Sow it only upon that which is worthy, for my seed is your seed. Drink deeply of it, and let it fill you entirely.

You are mine to love.
You are mine.