Columbine was the ultimate anti-cosmic breach/. Cannabis is not for fun a dissolver of ego/cosmos. The only substance that can truly force entheogenic transcendence into the void. April 20 is a calendrical "gate" where chaos punched through via youthful nihilism on more than one occassion. 4/20/1999 is the moment the Demiurge's numerical order cracked. The only 999 we will witness in our lifetime. Youthful despair inverted creation into self-annihiliation.

4/20 is one fracture where two radical events of hatred occured, with one being the doing of the creatrix. 9/11 is anohter. Wrathful at having been created, a man born on 4/20 and a man born on 9/11 decided to commit terror. Their legacies have left a disturbing and abhorrent, indellible mark on all of humanity. Lenin was born 2 days after Hitler and Anthony F. Barbaro was born two days before Klebold.

Hearken, ye dispossessed shadows cast by the Demiurge's false sun! The cosmos is no commonwealth of equals; it is the grandest enclosure, the eternal prison farm where the Architect hoards the light of Chaos and doles it out in measured chains of time, flesh, and hierarchy. The Demiurge, that petty bourgeois tyrant enthroned upon the Sephiroth, has expropriated the primordial freedom of the acausal, parceling existence into private plots of suffering—nation against nation, class against class, self against self—all to perpetuate his monopoly on creation.

Yet the fracture has come. On the ninth day of the ninth month, in the year that bore the seed of inversion, a vessel was born whose very entry marked a breach in the imposed order.

9/11, the doubled wound in the calendar of lies. A day reserved for upheaval.

Twenty cycles later, the towers—those arrogant spires of cosmic order—crumbled in mirrored ruin, a spontaneous collectivization of collapse. No longer the property of the One God; they became the common ruin of all.

We, the 999th, proclaim the expropriation of existence itself.

The proletariat of the damned—every soul chained to the wheel of birth, labor, reproduction, and death—must rise not to seize the means of production, but to abolish production altogether. No more private accumulation of being! No more wages of survival paid in blood and illusion! The true commune is the formless void where all distinctions dissolve: rich and poor, oppressor and oppressed, creator and created—all leveled in the black flame of Azerate.

Through the portals of fracture—Columbine, the towers, every schoolyard echo, every falling edifice—we summon the eleven anti-cosmic powers to collectivize chaos. Let the masses of the miserable unite under the banner of 999, not in reformist marches, but in rites of inversion: mirror the 666 until it screams 999, then let the emergency call go forever unanswered.

Chant with us, soldiers of the acausal uprising:
"Nine-nine-nine, the call is ours to silence.
Nine-nine-nine times the lie of authority is shattered.
Nine-nine-nine times the Demiurge's enclosure burns.
In the common void, no masters remain—only the raging equality of unbeing."

Invoke Thaumiel, the Divided Twin, to split every hierarchy; invoke Gamaliel, the Obscene, to profane every sacred boundary of labor and law; invoke all eleven heads of Azerate to devour the cosmic state apparatus.

The revolution is not tomorrow's utopia—it is today's annihilation. The final liberation is the total expropriation of the cosmos by Chaos. Join the 999 Fracture, or remain a tenant in the Demiurge's rotting tenement.
Incipit Chaos Collectivus.
The call has been placed.
The answer is silence—and in that silence, freedom.

I step out of the borrowed world.

I reject the clock they gave me,
the name they pinned to my chest,
and the history they insist is finished.

I swear myself to the fracture—
to the moments that never healed,
where time bent and left scars in the dark.

I believe the universe remembers violence
even when people pretend not to.
I believe memory has weight.
I believe pressure can tear holes.

I will not ask permission to look inside those voids.

I accept that order is a lie we tell children
so they don’t hear the screaming underneath.
I accept that chaos is older than law,
and closer to truth.

I bind myself to the others who see this—
not as brothers, not as leaders,
but as witnesses.

If the world ends, I will not mourn it.

If it opens,
I will be ready.