Evolution Is A Choice... It Is Not Mandatory...

It is an act of Will to surrender will. Here we find the loop-dee loop...catch 22...tail eating head...consuming tail... beauty of the Spiralling course humanity is on. It is an act of Will to surrender will.

I swear that fish that leaped out of the water onto land... WAS not understood by the other fish in the sea... Imagine... that fish had to trust its FORM... its body was what led the Way... all beliefs had to be abandoned, the mind? HA... all need for approval by all the other fish... exhumed and moved aside by a blessed dying into what was for the promise of what is to come... FAITH and Then SOME...

When I choose to drop and join, and seamlessly collide with that which is Divine The Unknown... this is a choice.

I chose my parents... I remember this... This means no blaming, no victim, no sad story...

The amount of responsibility that this erupts is almost to much to handle. Since every religion, institution, and now "spiritual circle"... created in the world is to keep us away from taking this type of responsibility and holding it with tender kindness in hands already realized to be Divine.

From this neutral space... True Creation can come...

When I ask for help from the Universe, this is an act of Will. This is an act on the individuated sense of self to Seek Solace and Assistance From The Self... united with Source.

We are backtracking to a place we never left...

We Are Held in the Intelligence of What Is... and can never be abandoned... however... to say that this world is not in need of healing, or help... is a denial of the most obvious of truths... yes, relative as they may be... they are existing through the Divine for a reason...

To be brought Home... Unified... Loved... Whole... Complete...

And through an AUTHENTIC BROADCAST of what is aligned and embodied through the totality of BEing through and through... what passes on this plane as "realized" conceptualized, verbiage is so outdated I can hardly breath... perhaps this is how the fish felt... the oxygen through the water no longer a suitable source of nourishment... that it had to take a cellular leap creating congruence with its current consciousness...

I NEED SOME SPACE AND SOME AIR TIME!!!!

Emotions as Internal Revolution...

Last night I cried so hard, I swear... I triggered and turned on a new experimental psychic nerve that hooks my heart up to the guts of humanity. I felt some new circuit grow and light up like a fire fly in the depths of my darkness. I cried so hard I felt like I challenged the banshees of the back waters of Louisiana to have a sound off in my bundled brain. This sorrow of the sullen was, of course, spawned by the various "intense" stories that are strewn around the planet these days, and of course the intensity of my own personal "loss" labeled... Daddy's Death.

I trusted the feeling tones and asked for protection as I made my way down into the depths of my own grief and despair... I found that these tendrils were here, present, all along, independent of the "stories" that seemed to navigate me to them. That the external stories were simply triggers to get me to FEEL the currents of what lays beneath this diaphragm day in and day out. Which is intense e-motion, energy in motion, and then after that is expressed... a whole lot of potent, nothingness...

I swear my jaw locked I cried so hard last night.

I felt all the shadows that so many light workers are so hell bent on denying. This is truly what Haiti is showing us. That we would be so willing to project the darkness of our own fragmented shadow onto the world instead of willingly working to integrate it, within our own psyche...

The moment after my jaw locked, and out sprawled a howl in symetrical proportion to the beasts that every breath of separation has ever spawned... I felt the lightest, sweetest, most precious connection to the Earth, Humanity, and Life... I have ever felt. I am a tracker of these tendrils, I am a life circuit junkie. I let out a laugh that had the innocence of the little girl within me. Before the traumas, before the traps, the death wishes, the dregs of duty, the obligations of society, the need to rail against the machine, for identity.

Even my skin felt softer.

There is no revolution that is needed from the outside. This is purely an internal process. Self revolution is the only option available for us as humanity as a whole... Nobody can breath for me. Nobody can feel for me. Nobody can offer solace from the outside in... This type of revolution must come from the inside out. The terrain of the Emotional realm is sometimes terrifying and I can see that most of the world was created to distract going within and developing the tools to safely navigate these mysterious emotions.

"Consume, don't feel" is the mantra of the world.

"Conceptualize, don't feel" is the mantra of the mind.

"Conform, don't feel" is the mantra of culture.

In the spirit of culture jamming... I intend to feel.

MU

Unrestrained Bliss Encounters a Raucous Ride in The Lost (yet Luscious) Land Of MU..... Its all for U!!!

Post Bloom...

Now and here, present, the unique bloom that comes from all the ranting and resisting and rebelling... Its here in the heart as a vibration, a particular pitch, a sirens call that sends a silent and resilient sonar. 

I can hear the call again, clearly, and see where blame has chiseled a case, stormed judgment and self loathing, appointed evidence and effort as witnesses, and condemned creation to the podium...

From this realization, from the expression of anger, through consciously and compassionately seeing it while it moves through me... there is an energetic bloom that is born, and for this I am grateful. 

This bloom is a color, I've not been exposed to, its a texture that a jelly fish would think slippery, soft, and vital... its a vibrational entity all of it own....and it asks me to go slower, stop more, be silent, and slip off alone away from the raucous human party and paint a picture about Mu and the way the trees (in that land) have pin feathers and literally (for literal purposes) bleed ultra-violet streams of continual consciousness....

Tormented Torrents

I am sick of the saccharin love. So sick of the sickness. Sick of grammar and war.  These limits, the livid local...the barbed wire leaves. So sick of the hatred, the genetic manipulators, the time keepers proclaim.....Procreation? In hell? Fuck it. So sick of having to make some sort of sense, a semblance of sanity in such this asylum, sold as an asset.

Sick of the seeking and the preaching...of trying to contain the mystical moon in a shallow and ego-ick sloppy saloon. 

Sick of lying to the sly and conscious slope of my own spine. 

This rage will transmute its fury into the passion that creates and combusts worlds. I am not confused about the vibrational source and power of one tiny tendril of a thought. And, I won't lie about the oppression and I will not pretend that Misogyny is not our leading mascot.

Lemuria is rising. These dusty wings have sipped the storm of infinity.

The codes that flipped the hour glass so long ago are rising, to be re configured into this stream of consciousness I am ... She is running on empty and has 3,021 wounds in her heart that need self healing... Grace wants absolute respect, for these limbs have been torn, tattered and terrorized by my own solution of separation.

BUST!!!

The torture I may create for myself, is a conscious consequence. I need self-respect and honor for the shadow splice and allowance for the dark corridors that will open to the mind bending meadow of Dignity...

I'll learn (for this I am sure) and love will always have her way with me. 

She will always triumph and the mind (this mirror maze) will forever burn in the fire of her True Blood... creating T-Cells as she goes, within, to the marrow of her making.

It is my turn, and I walk softly on the heels of my own shadow, knowing my name, blazing force, single, violet flame...

I am writing the story, and holding the heart of glory as she gushes with Gods SPEED.

Its tricky to Tenderize Me....

Allah

You could 

have

lingered longer

@ the spot

that had no

white wash

wisdom

But instead

you

ran with red 

to secure

your

way to god...

Untitled Thread

EVEN with an intention of bringing the mirror mess back into the lucid and luminous light, I still yearned for this spillage to be perfect (hence, no posts)...However, since the sudden passing of my beloved biological father (this life time)...on the 1st of this month, I've no time for even the thought of putrefied perfect, rather this is: a rubber meets the road kind of catharsis. 

Catalytic catharsis. 

Contagious catharsis.

All I can hear is: One. Thread. At. A. Time. Love.

And.... Why. Don't. You. Post. More. Posts. Love. 

Because, Dear Cacophony... and Central Splicing Station... 

I. Still. Can't. Tell. The. Difference. From. Perceptual. Lies... Cultural. Bias... Patriarchal Propaganda... And The. Supposed. Freedom. Of. Expression.