Aged esoterics older than the ancients. A storied ritual magination ripped off the minds of Mycenaean madness. That witch bitch cat brewing a dark glimpse into the foretelling traditions of Oracles of Delphine bliss. Apollon glow, Hecatian tri-sight, and more pleasure than Aphrodite can conceive.

Through some wicked tincture of toxic sludge, the terrible wildness of old 4Loko, and ancient magics mixxed in mushroom mindlessness. The sorceress divines a sight and pleasure unknow to the feeble minds of mortal misery.

Wake yourself, here, be enlightened in the glow of urnanium glass and ethenol caffine carbonation.

Know, that any deep truth you seek will likey break you. Debase you, undo and unlearn your deepest conceits. Perhaps you might even fall to patricide and milf your own mother in misunderstanding. It won't be the first tragedy, it won't be your last. Thus is the well known risk of truest truths here.

But ask... Ask your question of confounding. The bliss of ignorance is as barren in the end as your husk of a heart....

Ask... Ask for truth.