Al.Qaeda.net

November 2002

99
November 2002
11/11/02 -I didn't ask to be me, I just am.
11/20/02 -Candle lit to half mass. the judgment, is upon
deliberation. Those who seek will find... We kill to eat, we kill
for sport, and we kill to see a glimpse into our own destiny.
This is not about that, or about the blood river in the west
bank. This is about losing site of our own humanity. So I say
kill them all? Well that is the way it must be. We are beasts
every last one of us, AntiChrist has come to this. Any
Judgment upon the AntiChrist, is judgment upon all every last
one of us. Embrace the Antichrist, for the Antichrist feeds on
resistance. This is the word of Ghrisx.
Earth born from fire, washed in rain, cooled by the wind in the
direction from the great abyss. It is I Ghrisx who called once
from the grave, now from life. Kasna of Baly walk not into the
light if day crawls before you in the form of a mist.
AntiChrist, born dead with the black light of god. Life from
life, since the birth of this, when from - came nothing to bring
life. Now again upon our door and upon the mind, the
AntiChrist. As Life born from nothing, What horrible craters
leach there in the dreams of those cold and in the street. I pray
to them "hear the south winds as they call, all to come - and
meet in Mlobyzy." So as it has been written, so it will come to
pass...
Who is the AntiChrist?
100
October 2002
10/05/02 - A call from the past voices I thought dead... Bring
light to the fact that the bitterness of friends that never like me,
people who served me only to cut my throat as I slept. This is
not the light, this is the bitter jealousy that is your downfall
and my saving. For you who served me for your own needs,
you own greed, serve only yourselves. It is you that I see
watching me just a little too close, with hate in your eyes and
hart because you know I am right.
10/20/02 - Children of light reflect shadows on the week...
Walls torn down in time to open gates that question, what if? I
in my own way can pretend that I matter to you or to the
world. With false fire from a false god who once lived and
rained upon my living room floor and still I turn to my self
and question why. Why now after all of this time and what
have you brought with you? Time spell lessons on my lap as a
textbook of past mistakes and I can rain freedom or pain upon
the living room hell, or heaven for I know them both and can
tell you we are all right. But no more dose it matter or my
crucifixion that still pains me feel blood dripping down your
face and eyes to see the red of night in infrared or dream of
green trees and blue skies, so you bow to me or no I do not
care as long as in the end my purpose is not impaired for you
alone shall be seen as him who shot down the birds of hell or
ripped the wings from the angles. For I am but a madman or a
geniuses or probably nether but I swear to you that every day
is judgment day for me. This is a tale of more then just two
people or the thousands affected so far this is a story of death
at my hand and no other shall ever be blamed. But in this
convent is a truth and I see it well for it is I who gave rise to
the need, breed the lust for death in the harts of those how saw
no hope at all. From this anger and resentment was born a
furry unlike any I have ever seen. But with it still I saw regreet
and within it was the pain and the bitterness that bleed across a
nation. So now come to grips with the possibility it is me
Michael who spit fire and lit the lake afire. Who now lies to
you about my own existence for i am only a government
apparition someone who does not even exist. You feel me?
You here me I am all around you and I am death or by nature
the bringer of death upon the streets and fields of this world.
For I shall rein down terror as I release “it” upon one tree and