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sink sunken falling falling fallen.
something about this time of year makes me wake up with the heebie-jeebies. Things that are familiar seem strange and things that are new remind me of everything else. The sun plays tricks on you and the rain makes everything all still and quiet and makes you think of all the sleeping in done with rain hitting the windows. and then washington boulevard somehow transforms itself into fountain on some lazy sunday driving home. something about it that you can't put your finger on. it makes you want to smoke a cigarette in that way that the cigarette taints the smell of the air after you've smoked it. it's like that image you get right before you fall asleep of that thing infinitely shrinking and growing that somehow seems like a rose and a rubber ball, but then you realize that it must be the universe.
You know that song that grabs you by the balls and makes you almost freeze in your tracks or pee your pants or cry and you can't quite even remember why? it's like that. It used to happen every season, now it's just the fall because the years have started to just feel like seasons. How things change so much and are still the same. That when you are alone you realize you have like 8 families, but somehow when actual reality takes hold, the air seems so much heavier. maybe i should move to the desert, i think it's more resonant, dry, clear. The salty beach air has been weighing me down for so long. The denseness of the air here, that's what gives the light its eerie looking through a magnifying glass feeing.
I started having weird dreams again. this also happens this time of year.
The weirdest one was that i was pregnant and the babies (there were many) were like coming out of my vagina and the people at the hospital kept telling me to wait, that it was fine. and then they did this gruesome surgury on me and i was awake and screaming and they made me all patchwork. and then i lost my shit (lost it so much i might never find it again) and started killing everyone in my path. get outta the way motherfuckers, i have some things to give birth to here and you are not going to stop me. i dunno... it was kind of terrible.
When i Got there i oriented myself and headed for the man, soon realizing that almost simultaneously upon my arrival, the moon had turned red and the man had begun to burn early, and then i ran across that giant board of things, things, things and saw hen there.
He started to cry. finally, after so long of not being able to. and i let him lay his head in my lap and he fell asleep, only for a minute or two, but just long enough for the sun to come up. i was holding points, holding space on his face. he woke up with a start and said: "what did you do?" and i said "nothing." and he said "yes you did, everything is clear now." i felt magic. the magical unicorn.
Viewing everyone as a child, children must play, play is ok, play shakes up the density.
Sometimes you can't get people to come out and play.
i had another dream that i got a letter that i was needed desperately, but i think the prospect of play might dance a bit to close to the edge of losing control. of maintaining. i have been sent as the shaker up of things, i think.
There were many thoughts about density and healiing. The doctor Earl was talking about lasers and high intesity light being used for healing and the power of the hands and so on. It shakes it up... things need a good shking around... the atmosphere (literally and figuratively) can get so heavy... only when it gets shaken up do you get that feeling of falling, settling again to the bottom, but the trick is to try not to settle as heavily this time, to learn to tuse the density to your advantage, to use the density to hold you up. Lights, sound, tuning forks, acupuncture needles, dancing, screaming, lasers. And the meteors began cutting throught the sky and just like that ominous unnamable round thing that can only be the universe, or just an atom, or both, i decided i had to make the perimeter. the edge.
You see you don't push past the edge, you walk it, you sense where it is without asking out loud. Like the corn starch. when you plunge into it, it resists, becomes hard in response. but when you sit with it, with no effort suddenly your hand sinks to the bottom. It's about trust, it's about listening to your higher self.
when we do these things we are attuned to the vibration of things, colors lights sounds, vibrations, orchestrations, nuances, we just simply see them as they are: we accept our role as an antenna, as a conductor, we simply turn our do-ers off and receive, we then can hear our higher self, from the edges, talking back to us in the center of this density.
The problem with shaking up the density, is that once that settling happens it feels so heavy, so so heavy. But you know that that's just the other side of the swing... the pendulum. Stalking the wild pendulum is the book hen told me to read. that's exactly what we are doing is stalking the wild pendulum. but it's jsut at that point of the ride where you seem to hover and your stomach gives you that sense of control completely lost as you can't stop the freeflow back and forth of the pendulum. there's no placing your hand over your mouth and raising the other here, it swings and keeps swinging. if you've got yourself wedged pretty well, it's not so bad, it's those times your forget to pay attention and you think the grip of your hands might fail you. Following the movement of the sun is really all we are doing here... it's kind of a pendulum. Circles and Cycles... full circle along the perimeter.
My tonsils had cleavage
When i got home, i re-unpacked and shook out a bag. Mind you, i hav eused this bag about a dozen times between last year and this year, i had shaken it out looking while we were there last year and when we got back. I thought it was lost along with my car keys, and then, plop, out it fell after countless shaking out and searching: the little canister that read: "goddess." oh, hi goddess, there you are!


temporal hieroglyphics in the ether.

i saw honest-to-Horus Egyptian ones today.

they were almost worn away.

yup I fell. Thank god "faster pussy cat" was there when I did. and I feel myself climbing desperately and falling desperately. What is the next course of action. I think that fall is when the bottom drops out. The magic of summer dumps us in a kinda harsh reality.

Its like--these dreams of summer: we have to see if we can pull them into this world.
the rain makes us sit in the stillness.
We confiscated someones cigarettes.
taint this too clean air,
this body with its skin off.
We went to the integratron to do a sound bath on equinox.
Then we ate really bad mexican food.

mmm, mexican food: the good lord, jebus crith, is with us when we eat bad mexican food.

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