Sep. 17th, 2007


Sep. 17th, 2007 03:11 am
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As much as I love this waning of the year... I also hate it. Hate what it does to me. I wish I was honestly crazy, or maybe if I just had a schizophrenic label taped to my forehead I could at least tell myself, "Oh, hey, yeah, I'm nuts, it's perfectly normal for me to hallucinate." Removal of stress is what's done me in. I just know it. Stress and workaholism, in its own damaging way, is a fantastic shield for a lot of emotional crap to hide behind, safe and sound where it never fully bothers you.

Tonight, as I was leaving work, I saw two cowboys in the lobby of the Excalibur. I'm not talking ranch hands like at Bonnie Springs, or the stable guys... at first I thought 'bikers', but no, these were dusty, right-off-the-range cowboys. Wearing beat up, tattered longriders, sprung leather boots, they were dusty and smelled like horse and sage and desert night. They were older, with long lank greying hair and moustaches. For a minute, I thought one was Jody's boyfriend, Brad - who looks a lot like Sam Elliott (he was in Ghostrider). Then, they walked past a pillar and emerged on the other side as two mid-20's club guys in nylon t-shirts and tight jeans, clean shaven, clean, smelling of some hideous cologne, probably Axe or something like that. Brain spoke & said, "brothers, for a long time". One of them looked at me, probably because I had some bizarre befuddled expression on my face. The Excalibur is an anachronism all on its own, and woefully tacky... but even two trail-hardened cowboys seemed strangely out of place there, walking past a huge plastic statue of Spongebob Squarepants.

The more I think about the nature of linear and non-linear time, the more malleable it becomes. Past, present, future, all merging into one seemless conglomeration of events and people and places. It'd be okay, if I was completely mad. If I didn't have moments when I could almost touch the 'infinite being of light' within me. If I didn't have those Jonathan Livingston Seagull moments. Knowing that part of why my memory of my childhood is so absent is because I wasn't there.

Rob tells me to deny everything. Everything except for what I know is right there, accessible to my five senses & all this crap would go away. The hard part is that I don't always know the difference. I believe, therefore it is real, it simply is what it is, and it cannot be separated from what it is not - because it's all part of the same thing. Excising my belief in reincarnation & precognition and Vodou and sympathetic magic and the power of the mind to manifest things into being, the power of the body to heal itself and others makes no more sense than pulling out a perfectly good tooth - or separating atoms of carbon from other atoms of carbon. Sometimes I feel like... well, it's as if someone gave me glasses with the Kabbalistic Tree diagrammed on them, so that everything I see is connected to everything else along one of those pathways. And everything fits into those neat little sephiratic filing cabinets. And all those drawers are connected to one another. And in the center, where the Daath is is light. Endless, limitless light. Only if I look directly into that light, I see everything out of its filing cabinets - past, present, future, everything, every star, every planet, every living thing, every spiritual entity, every place, every negative space, all glommed together, everything happening at once, without end forever, amen. That is what the light is. Everything is light.


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Rainbow Serpent Woman

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