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Sietze Bosman paints a canvas of the soul’s journey, navigating the shadows of despair to find elusive glimmers of hope amidst a world in the grasp of modernity.

Silently I stare at the jet-black skies and the barely distinguishable sinister clouds that sail on the icy wind. In the distance, an ominous growling thunder sounds and a quick flash lights up the landscape. A dead landscape that, like a faded watercolor, blends seamlessly without a horizon into the ominous swirling mass of clouds. In the ephemeral lifting of the darkness by the flash, I see that I am standing at the edge of an abyss. In that brief moment, the unfathomable depth swallows up my gaze and I feel the merciless darkness tug at my soul. It is as if the emptiness wants to tear the living essence out of my body and sink my soul into the absolute emptiness of the abyss.

It is an abyss so resolute and overwhelming that no last desperate cry of death can escape from it. The darkness in the depths is the gate to hell. A place where whoever is engulfed by it will wander in limbo and be continually torn apart by the nothingness, by the crushing nihilism, and, as it were, ground to dust by the relativistic millstones of present thought. And just as the last fragments of being raise themselves once more to the pale light that slips over the edge of the abyss, nothingness strikes its claws again into the soul and draws it forever back into the abyss.

The scorched emptiness of the ideological landscape into which Western society moves is a landscape stripped of all beauty and meaning. So dead and lost that not even the essence of thousands of erelong perished souls rejuvenate the barren earth. A darkness so hopeless that no bitter tears can draw any germination from the frigid soil. A veritable graveyard of dreams where the soul perishes once and for all.

Those who fly higher and higher will see more and more that the void becomes but a shadow.

A soul that has lost sight of the scarce rays of the sun and can see no hope in the engulfing nothingness, a soul whose being is overcome by the loss of values and meaning, is defenseless against the abyss.

The depth of the abyss shall always be there. The depth is pain, sorrow, grief, misfortune, and loss. The depth is also nothingness, aimlessness, and the absolute negation of light. The soul that no longer spreads its wings and strives to transcend the dark nothingness will fall like Icarus to the earth, and in bitter desperation shall see but a shadow of its own being cast on the dead soil of the wasteland of modernity. In nothingness, the self is dissolved and scattered over the barren void.

The light is now a soft glow behind the gray veil of clouds and then a piercing ray that pierces through the suffocating mists and makes the cold dead earth feel its warmth for a fleeting moment. The soul that in nothingness can see the passing light is a soul that can take it as a compass and follow it to its source above the mists. To those regions of being where it becomes clear that one has wandered in ignorance. Where one can look with pity on the self that didn’t know, and those who still live through the excruciating struggle of not knowing. One cannot help them other than pointing them toward the light. Those who cannot or will not see will tumble over the edge of the abyss and be swallowed up by the nothingness.

Those who fly higher and higher will see more and more that the void becomes but a shadow. The light grows so strong that it dispels the darkness and only a liberated floating remains in which one comes ever closer to the source. Here the soul can express its highest being and, after a life of struggle and the defeat of darkness, can merge into the source and become one again with all that is.

As a single soul without aspirations towards the highest will perish in nothingness, so will a people also drown in the swirling stream of chaos that comprises earthly life. When a people has no identity to cling to, it is defenseless against influences that seek to usurp unity and throw the rising individual back into chaos. Like uprooted trees, one will only be able to float along in the merciless stream of nothingness. If, however, one has strong roots reaching deep into the earth, one will steadfastly resist the chaos. A people aiming for the light and always having the will to fulfill itself with as much of that light as possible shall conquer the darkness.

The Arktos Restoration Initiative

We have handpicked a few distinguished titles, previously lost to censorship, befitting any refined bookshelf. These esteemed classics are now offered in limited leather-bound editions, with a mere 100 copies per title. Owning one not only grants you a collector’s item but also supports our mission to restore them in paperback for all.

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IArcheofuturism (Limited Edition)
Racial Civil War (Limited Edition)
Sietze Bosman

Sietze Bosman, 42, resides in the Netherlands. Having served in the military for four years, he transitioned into a career in construction and currently holds a position with an organisation specialising in affordable housing. Alongside his professional pursuits, Sietze is an avid writer of stories and poetry in his native language, Frisian, rather than Dutch, reflecting his deep connection to his Frisian heritage. He is dedicated to formulating a philosophical framework that unites the Frisian community in resistance against modernity. Sietze identifies himself as a philosopher, family man, and worshipper of Creation, with his philosophy centring around the natural order and the responsibility it entails. Motivated by this duty, he endeavours to bring his people together, even in the face of resistance.

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