Wanna Know What I Know

Sweet LOVE

You will have to burn for it

I fooled myself into love
I have passed through
The gates of fire
Into eternal Love

No one can touch it
There is no sympathy here
No secrets
Just incredible radiant

LOVE

In all directions
I could burn in its blue flame

for eternity

I met the Devil in me
The only place to find it
And it took my measure and
It set me on fire when I asked

Why

All I heard was laughing
As I burned in agony
But the flesh needed
To burn away

What a gift that Devil gave me

Freedom

That Devil was Love

You want to know
The meaning of it all

Then burn for it

I dare you

Let it all BURN

Don’t fool yourself

This is not evil

Oh no

This is the secret

No one will tell you

You Must BURN

Seven Petals of Love

From the Interwebs…

I. Heart to heart, smitten by inner thunder, and the veil between our souls is torn asunder. Naked feelings, purity of our being, and no more doubt to stop what we are seeing. Eye to eye, beyond the world of form, as we transcend the voices of the storm. No more division, only sounds of bliss, as we dissolve in an eternal kiss.

II. I believed, but that only caused me to doubt, and I could not be devout, for the belief could be wrong, and I could not complete the rapturous song, but now I see it is a call of destiny, and the song is flowering, it is all-devouring, a passion so pure I drop a tear, but of blood red in lyrics that are shed into a shoreless sea of love and beauty.

III. My love is now infinite, it is embracing all time without limit of any kind, a never ending source of rapture sublime. I cannot shake it, like a dream or a thought, it cannot be fought, this love I’ve got. When the sun is standing still, this love I still feel, and when the moon is dim, and the earth is grim, it is still aflame, this love without shame, without desire, pure will, on fire.

IV. Dancing in a trance of romance, without a dancer, only the dance, the free movement of circumstance, like the planets and moon floating in a swoon, my true will in motion, an act of devotion, for union with the one, the all, and none, for weal or for woe, above or below, with a smile or a tear, with the blues or a cheer, for my law is, Do what you WILL with LOVE and no fear.

V. Love does not fade like a romantic serenade, even when we are apart, there is the eternal song of the heart, and no matter how distant from each other we may be, we are still united by the arms of eternity, and still we converse in the inner universe, with feelings beyond sense, without pretense, with words without letters, meaning without fetters.

VI. I love you more than words can convey, but here I am with so much to say. I love you, my dark flower, during every hour of the day, you have changed my heart and made me want to stay in this world of ignorance, greed and dismay, for you, for us, and for the lovely Way, the Will of Pan, and Nature’s play. I love you, my dark flower, my Rose of Agape.

VII. A reverent kiss, this lyric of love, for you, and every goddess below and above, for you are the One, the Goddess BABALON, the moon in scarlet riding upon the sun, drunk on the blood of the stars of dawn, my BABALON, my love, my flower, whom I call upon this passing hour, for life or death, with fleeting breath, for all, for one, O BABALON.

strange brew

The other day I took a walk and I stopped for a bit and found myself staring off into space thinking about a fish or something. Something caught my eye in a thick bunch of vines with orange pink flowers.

I saw a leaf move strangely I thought, must be a stick bug. I thought I saw a small arm. I didn’t move, my breathing slowed down as if someone poured honey in my mouth.

I began to feel quite thirsty. I saw the leaf move weirdly again, but this time I saw a small hand holding a golden thimble slowly reaching out of a thick thicket of flowers. All my hairs stood at attention and the air felt electric blue and had a golden odor. My god I gasped, it was a a faery girl almost as if she leaped off a page.

As I was quite thirsty, and feeling like I could trust this little faery, I thought, why not. Now I see I was bedazzled, which isn’t quite fair now is it. I had no inhibitions at all in that golden blue light. I took the thimble and said thank you, and then sniffed the golden thimble. It had the strangest earthy smell that hung in your senses. The thimble was warm and seemed to actually be glowing.

So I drank the little thimble down and almost immediately my body was electrified and I felt waves of electricity crackling over my skin, little golden sparks were popping all around me. I immediately fell backwards stiff as a statue.

I felt frozen. No thoughts. Eyes staring into nothing. Then I saw a little face peer up from around my ear and I heard, I’m sorry I had to do that to you. But you never know what kind of human you may meet. That seemed practical to me. She said I would soon be able to move, but she wanted to have a little chat first. This seemed reasonable to me at the time.

At this point, looking back, it all seems like a dream. I remember waking up alone. Very groggy. With a taste in my mouth like I had eaten moss. I’m not sure what we spoke about. I just can’t remember. I do remember her face very clearly. I also felt totally refreshed and had energy pulsing to get up and get back to the car. I’m sure it was all a dream now.

Be careful who you take a drink from. Especially if they offer you a golden glowing thimble.

There’s No Place Like Home

I can’t explain this post. It’s a blog entry from another place I write. A story of shadows and fictions and finding my self here. It’s long and personal, so maybe TLDR. Just some notes from OZ.

Follow the yellow brick road…

DISCLAIMER: I don’t know what I’m doing on XXXX. I usually just flow. I should probably post more in my own thread, but it happens as it happens. I didn’t think I was seeking anything here, but I suppose since my own high weirdness, I seem to have things happen beyond my understanding. I was curious. It’s funny I wrote so much. I had nothing to say. It was a dance with the devil and god and then my self. I am not a mystic or follower of any sect. But I am going to write about what someone might claim to be mystical. I don’t deny anything. I don’t know. I actually write to what I imagine as a grand Intelligence. Silly, I know.

Daemonic Contact

Recently there have been ripples from old friends in my life. I don’t share any of this silliness with anyone else. I made the mistake of letting people see inside my head. I am not a crazy person. I am like everyone else, moved by my emotions at times and thoughts. My mind is generally needing to be focused on something or I turn off more and more. I live for the cut off moments more and more, no work, no family, no friends, but my Den pack. It’s strange to look around and know it will all blow away. 

Recently after letting most of the traditions I explored go, I had a real drive to dig into the esoteric side of the XXXX phenomenon. When in Rome. To see how my experience compared to others’. I had delved deep before bobbing back up. I had some high weirdness I just let go unexplained. But it came back up. I never thought I had met any aliens on my journey, I saw them as spirits and ancient sages and shadows and helpers of shamans. I had known nothing about Gnosticism or the Perennial tradition. I didn’t know Greek thought well. So I was a babe in the woods. I knew nothing about Eastern religion either. What I had tried to let go, seemed to be coming back with a vengeance.

As I had begun and walked my turn into this strange place a few years ago, I had heard whispers of something as I sunk into my studies. I sought their source. I found in the esoteric traditions much idolizing seeking a conversation with something called your inner guiding Daimon. This intrigued me, but damn, the way seemed so daunting to attempt. It seemed like way too much work. I sought out some Thelemite types to see what they were like. Naaaa. Having to make my own way burned in me. At every turn XXXX would accuse me of solipsism. Naaaa. I was deconstructing things and making weird connections.

I had met XXXX a few years ago on XXXX at the beginning for me and his knowledge was seductive and intense during my trips down under. I didn’t care about eschatology or religion or ufos or tech, I went existential, so how weird we would meet. I really enjoyed the pointers I was getting from XXXX and where they led, some tasted bitter, some sweet. He was just one input output stream. He was one of the few who let me play. Though I often frustrated him. He thought I was showing off, but I was just following a protocol. Share what comes. I followed most of his prompts deeper down the rabbit hole. 

I would come and share with XXXX what I found. Most of the time he would say he felt sorry for me, called me dumb or found me too impish or selfish. I was perplexed. That just pushed me on. I’d show that dumb old man, I muttered. I’d learn what he was talking about and find what was behind it all yet. Haha. It was fun. And it got really weird.

My studies showed me how my mind needed discipline. How raw I was. How exposed my heart was. So I got to work. I felt all this was part of what made me work and I was right. I took a good look at my self and found some balance. It’s a daily walk. I felt out of my depth for sure here. I liked that. I liked not knowing what was going on and I gave my self to it. I took another leap. 

Back to the Daemons. As I traveled through my inner mind amazing synchronicities would happen that silenced any doubt I was in the right space. I took them as signposts from a presence I felt but was afraid of. What had happened to me? Had I had a schizophrenic breakdown? I was not a depressive person. I was tired in life. It was a struggle for me. Health issues forced me into uncharted waters at work for the first time. I was tired trying to deal with the world inputs that didn’t match up to my inputs. 

Things down that rabbit hole led me to better balance and more layers of my mind. I wasn’t scared. I was in wonderment at my mind. I suppose I had found the inner mirror and began to look into it. Life felt plastic and malleable. Could I really use my will to have any life I wanted? Was Love under will all of it? I began to reshape my self. I found ways to compensate for my broken antennas. I grew new ones. 

As my focus increased, so did my productivity. As questions left me, what was underneath was visible. It was shiny and dented. So I hammered out the dents. Inside reflected an intense light, it blinded me in a flash. In time I would find a better way to look at the reflection of light inside. By looking at it reflected in a midnight lake under a full moon. What is this I wondered? Surely I am just making it all up I thought jokingly. Others though could see this leaking out of me now. I was clumsy with it. I was zapping people. I was zapping my self. Where did all this energy come from? I had to temper it. But only a few could see it and open up to it. Most tuned me out. I liked being invisible and thought of as a cracked pot. No expectations 😉 We seemed to talk our own language of light. Help came when I needed it.

So Plato and Socrates spoke of this inner light they called Daimon I found out. Could this force that I had jokingly found to be like a trickster and called the green man, be this Holy Guardian Angel Thelma spoke of, Plato’s Daimon? This concept I came to realize was another way to think other than reason and logic, this was the land of the oracles who had gone silent when our self awareness may have risen. It seemed a slippery slope to pursue this. Possibly leading to madness. But I kept hearing this voice, follow the way, follow your heart. Don’t follow anyone or thing else. I studied all I could for hints to the Daimon. It was fascinating. My mother would accuse me of consorting with the Devil if she knew what I was up to. That probably just pushed me into deeper water. I was intrigued delving into these forbidden thoughts. I wasn’t becoming more scared, I was grinning more and more as I let concepts go and what I thought I understood. I was open. Totally open. 

I could feel life in a way like never before. I had never let my self slow down and breathe. I met others along the way who pointed me, helped me slow down. They came to me in a way where I didn’t doubt the communication at all. I didn’t feel like I was alone. I felt connected to something. The search for the Daimon led me to Greece and the Renaissance and Tarot and the Hermetic tradition. Dionysius the Areopagite said these Daimons were elemental intelligences. That clicked. The gods as the progenitor of our emotions. I was not being overwhelmed, there was a gentleness and power to how I discovered all this. But chaos was always there. It was energetic. Not manic. Focused and relaxed at once.

As the stories go, this Daimon mediates contact between us perhaps and a transpersonal consciousness. I was hearing and seeing things. Not voices. Inner dialogues. Shadows. I was making strange connections with strange attractors. I was making art and letting this flow through me. I didn’t stop it. Aristotle and others put a stop to this nonsense and setup a perimeter around the polis using logic and rationality. Maybe the best move at the time. I was wandering out into a deep dark wood. And somehow a goat had showed up and kept me company. 

I now see the goat was my Daimon. And I know I am here in the middle of 3D life, just a reflection of reality we can’t see. I found a framework in Magick and Hermetics and Qabbalah that seemed to allow more direct communication with some vast inner void that vibrates symbols and maths. I seemed to intuitively know how to move in this space. I would experience something and then think about it and learn what had maybe happened. It seems whatever these esoteric traditions were hinting at, but not saying, I found naturally. It freaked me out. I went into a mode shutting down my memory and thoughts. I turned off the projector just like that. But the weirdness kept going. But I just became a witness of it. 

During these experiences I attempted shamanic rituals that seemed to work. I made art, began to write. I seemed to be able to speak with inner presences that spoke through all sorts of ways. XXXX usually hit me over the head and humored me perhaps. I showed up. What was he gonna do? So I began to attack others’ points of view as viscous skeptic. I turned that on my self. I realized I knew nothing and suspected I couldn’t even trust my thoughts. I began to learn how I was being manipulated. I learned how to protect my mind. I setup defenses, by removing them. It was a fun time doing war with my own mind and the minds of others. I began to see we each had our own reality tunnels perhaps, lived in our worlds no one else can really know. They just see our Avatar, a reflection we project.

Then, finally, without my notice, weird XXXX stuff began happening in the world or I became aware of it in a strange way. I had stopped conceptualizing communication with this inner force. I looked outside. I kept an open mind. I began to see the weird connections between this outer phenomenon and the strange new way to hear the universe I had tripped on. I felt I should reflect out what was within and a take in what happened outside with no filters. They seemed connected more and more. Another leap.

I shifted from observer to participant. I found others who had learned similar ways to attune to the world around them and voice inside. I accepted I was a weirdo like them, but didn’t know why or what to do. There wasn’t anything to do really. Living this way leads to doing not doing and spontaneous action, wei wu wei, a Taoist concept. I learned a lot from the old Taoists and then forgot it 😉 I wondered if I had crossed the Abyss. It seemed maybe I had. More and more all I could say was, don’t know. 

A strange tale and journey to here or perhaps nothing special. High weirdness and cosmic triggers. It seems life has turned inside out…but I never left home.

There’s no place like home.

Atomic Brando goes Beyond Belief

Hummingbird Songs

Had a visitation by the Green Man. This morning I read a Taoist meditation saying nature speaks through the birds and flowers. Read this poem below as well. Big medicine. By Lauren Raine, 

The Green Man

Remember me, try to remember,
I am the laughing man with eyes like leaves.
When you think that winter will never end,
I will come.
You will feel my breath,
a vine caressing your foot.
I am the blue eye of the crocus,
opening in the snow,
a trickle of water, a calling bird,
a shaft of light among the trees.

Life Starts Clapping

Wherever
God lays His glance
Life starts
Clapping.

The
Myriad
Creatures grab their instruments
And join the
Song.

Whenever love makes itself known
Against another
Body

The
Jewel in the eye starts
To

Dance.

— From The Gift by Hafiz

Seeing Sigil N. 1

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Love Sigil N. 1

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