Which is (a) prime for all others.

Behind you is the dull grey region that the local ignorant savages call the Death Valley, (Yesser!)

A clawing clinging false comfort that’s even now looming up pressing in and calling you back, (Yeeser!) But you are safely hidden in the shadow of the warm comforting trees.

From here you breathlessly stare out in total exhaustion at the seemingly never ending white snowy expanse; a deadly flat open expanse that you are also in awe of, because its clean and clear majestic beauty goes on as far as the eye can see.

Your first thought is that you’ll be badly exposed in crossing it.

You can stop here: you’ve opened it up for others.

You can retire.

Your second thought is that what you’re looking at is beautiful pristine and pure.

You can just admire it.

And then retire from the game.

Your third thought is that by crossing it, you’ll destroy and sully the calm white place you’ve discovered.

Do you have the right?

Retirement is easier.

You have doubts.

Then you realise that it’s just self preservation cautioning your inner most mind, causing you to make excuses into not crossing the static plain of deadly purity.

Its beauty, like your own life: is transient.

Considering the “Dark Forest” that you’re trapped and cocooned in by, you finally come to realise that its protection is stagnant and morally corrupt, just like the petulant childlike residence of the village you left behind, that was filled with the simpletons that foolishly tried to stop your quest.

Huffing loudly in disgust you blindly push on, leaving the relative safety that this covered canopy affords. Discomfort and danger is undoubtedly in front of you, but that personal cost of denial is a better price to pay, other than adding to the pollution by staying in what was now the “Village of the Damned.”

Standing calmly “Between Worlds” at the snow-line, you instantly realise in horror the consequences of that small insignificant step that you are about to take: “it’s one small step for a woman, was one huge leap for womankind”, and also the swarms of feminist opportunists that would undoubtedly follow, adding their own biological and technological distinctiveness to this new verdant land that you’re forging into, where they will then happily make it pregnant with as many pauses as they could possibly muster, and all the while behind you the Germanic tribes will build their borgs even stronger to repel the ever expanding reach of the preaching invaders.

But this place’s vast size alone will become the new “Borg Expanse” to keep them at bay, and it was you who’s just broken new ground by blindly forging into it, .. your blind stumble into the vast unwieldy unknown; actually started at the edge of the tree line. That step was another spacial boundary that you’ve just crossed, and you can’t ever take it back: you’ve unwittingly just taken sides in the struggle of life.

Moving further out from the dark shadows, you now find yourself surrounded by the pure light of creation, it wasn’t the ‘primary reason’ as to why you started this quest for the “Composite Council”, but now finding yourself surrounded by the white purity of nothing: you’re eternally glad that you did.

Pushing ever on, you soon begin to realise that you never really had a choice in the matter either: your own life choices have found you being pursued by the biological Abominations, (and they are getting closer), and also in numbers that can’t be counted. The Manx crabs are closing the distance on you, and are now almost snapping at your heels as you stumble ever on.

You’ve just left the comfort and stagnation of the Island in the Death Valley, and have chosen to destroy the world in you’re blind pursuit of personal improvement: you’ve inadvertently taken sides, and are running into the light.

Failure to reach the other side of the Borg Expanse isn’t an option.

Failure itself now isn’t an option either: you now have a new allegiance.

You’re on the side of light and destruction.

And have unwittingly turned your back on the darkness of personal biological comfort.

But in taking that unwitting stance, .. you are now morally opposed to the old world of the Status-Quo.

You’re In The Army Now, of change, and can’t simply Roll Over and Lay Down. No longer will you be Living On An Island: and from this point on, you’ll Break The Rules; Again and Again.

Whatever You Want you can have it, you are the Wanderer. You are facing the Wild Side Of Life in the Ice Of The Sun, as you Break The Rules, but quietly wonder if there Is A Better Way.

In the light of a new dawn, you have to get up, you have to start another days work as you move on with the continuation of your own life: a rude life that you didn’t ask for when you were rudely born into it.

As a destroyer of worlds: your primary condition is to cross that vast deadly “Borg  Expanse” in front of you, and know in your heart that it will lead you to more wonderful opportunities on the “Mainland Mountain” you can now see emerging out of the mist, and at the same time if you trample this pristine place that you’re crossing to get to it: then so what, .. (you’ve taken sides, and are on the side of light.)

And still the dark Manx things behind call to you.

Urging you to stay with them, and then revel in the comfort of the “Island of Men.”

From their vast burgeoning numbers, you slowly come to understand that none of the Manx citizens (yees-sir!) Have never got this far, mainly because of their almost pathological insistence of keeping the other Dogma-crabs from leaving, but their allure of personal comfort was so compelling for you to stay: all day opening hours was a strong argument.

But you are the first “Come-over” on the RoRo after hours.

Your future is now written in the stars.

And not in the mud of corruption with “the Islanders” that you’ve just left behind.

You’ve taken sides.

You are a user, a destroyer of white worlds.

You *aren’t* a composite of corruption by just being yourself, and not being negatively dismissible by others pretending to be positive about all things.

You are a pure prime in your own right.

A **Mage.

(** a magician or learned person.)

In your path for personal discovery and glory, you’ve come to the missive page of the Primary Composite Menu: (Explore Sensibly.)

Thanks for reading, Jessica: Praise be the ORI.

In this Master class (Bottom) exposure section: we will now reveal to the world the bare faced snotty little kids demanding childish links. Deep rooted anchors, that are all tied back to the weary solitary legal Guardian called:-
[ Primer ] A dominatrix entity, that dost angrily reside above their ungrateful wretched offspring.