The Hollowing
When I was younger, I had many strange experiences. When I was seven years old, I watched the world dissolve into flying blue sparks and spiders. This terrified me at the time, but it opened up an entire world of optical phenomena to be explored. I stared at the sun, and learned how to make interesting shapes with afterimages. I also experimented with something like these Mudras. Today I was thinking about some random things in the shower, and I remembered that one of these experiments lead me to start writing a story. I had been experimenting with the strange art of staring. I would stare at a person or object until everything around it was like the snow on a non-existant TV station. I would do this for hours, learning the fine line between concentration and relaxation, which is a difficult balance to maintain when staring at something. I remember dreaming or hearing a voice say, “That’s the first step to seeing inside another person.” Later on, I also experimented using the same disciplines I had learned to look into a person, and found that by defocusing the eyes, and separating the image, I could gain the benefit of both perspectives. FI, I could look at my hand and see only the two parts that overlapped. Then something strange happened. Without moving my hand or changing the focus of my eyes, I found myself seeing through the hand. There was an overlapping area that should have been covered to both eyes, but I could see through it.
I started writing my story, when I realized that an entire world could be built around a moment in time: when two people looked into each other, and truly saw their inward selves. And then I realized that the only way to end such a story would be to show how in seeing into each other, they had created an illusion of unity, which could only end when they saw through each other, out into the “in betweens”; the storms and battles and realities that were matter and yet did not (tip o’ the hat to Logan) would eventually come crashing down. In that moment, they could either step through, or surrender to the reality.
I guess the reason I don’t write about it anymore is because I still don’t know how it ends, or if I want to know.
Liberation
Saw a bumper sticker the other night.
“Do you believe in liberation?”
It’s a line from a Lungfish song (Non Dual Bliss)
“She called me on the phone
She could tell by the sound of my voice
I was sitting home all alone
She said to me in a whispering tone:
Do you believe?
Do you believe in liberation?
Can you understand liberation?
Are you afraid of liberation?
I am afraid of liberation
I admit I’m afraid”
That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. I’m starting to understand many of the things going on around me, and I am answering my own internal call, I can feel the tension created by my own fear of success. Maybe it’s time to just realize that I took on certain tasks because I never thought I’d come anywhere near success. But I was wrong. No proclamations of Mission Accomplished here, but I can feel the critical mass gaining.
I dreamed last night of a dark father. He was a horrible tyrant to his family and to everyone who knew him. I had several brothers and one sister. He hated women and children to an extreme I have never seen in life. He would compare women and children to Neanderthals, and use this logic to explain why they were only good for breeding then death. The feeling I remember the most was a continual sense of shock at his incredible hatred for life. At some point one of my brothers angered him, and he decided to kill him. My sister tried to stop him, and he brushed her off like she was nothing. I picked up an urn, in the shape of the Willendorf Venus and killed him by dropping it on his head. After that, the phone rang, and I picked up to find it was him. He said to remember to give my sister her inheritance, which he had put in a safe. I somehow knew that there was a bomb in the safe that would kill her if she opened it. With that, his voice faded and he was gone.
Fields of green lay before me, and I saw armies represented by plastic soldiers, being swept about here and there. The Tyrant, my late father, had been defeated.
Next I was walking through a store that was both Borders and Target. As I walked through, I was walking among the new Bush cabinet members, and there was a fierce proud look in their eyes. They were mad, I thought, drunk on power. They walked tall and no man could harm them. They didn’t even have guards, they were so brazen. As I walked among them, I could feel a sickening sense of joy, because I knew they were bold enough to make the mistakes necessary to bring about a change in the world. They would not apologize, they would merely destroy without mercy. Those who had gone before were still human. These men & women were not. They filed into a door in the back of the store, and I started to leave, when a man, with strange dark hair and a lot of makeup approached me. As he walked with me, I asked him if he was one of the Endless, thinking that he was dressed up in a Halloween costume or something. He said yes, but meant that he truly was one of the Endless. As I walked away, he said, “Come back some time, I really like you!” I told him I liked him too. He laughed a deep and resounding laugh, as did I. As I walked away from Morpheus, I knew that I would soon return.
I then saw a limosine with a few friends I used to know. These were superficial people in a sense, and I informed them of the Tyrant’s demise. They were shocked, not having seen the horror of his hatred. I then walked away from them, not knowing my destination.
The dreams are increasing in frequency. I dream of a world full of people like John Coffey who can sweep over the land like a high tide. I dream of a new world that will still contain most of the elements of the world we know now. If anything, only the capacity of humankind will have changed. That is enough. The tyrant is already dead. The Ravers walk the world in power. Soon there must be resolution.
I dream.
I believe in universal liberation.
| kabbalah is love | |||||
| brought to you by the isLove Generator | |||||
Un raccourci dans le temps
Watched A Wrinkle in Time last night. I really can’t recommend it highly enough. I felt like it was done with taste, and although some updates were done to the setting of the story (added things like the Internet, which for a research scientist makes sense, and quotes that post date the original books) they were done in such a way as to be seemlessly integrated with the storyline, which took priority. I was really happy with the visual effects; they weren’t too flashy, but they got the point across. It was good to see the eye-candy used in a pragmatic way. Probably my favorite aspect of the entire movie has to do with Charles Wallace, who at the beginning is played interestingly enough as brilliant but he seems to have a raw, almost mad look in his eye at times. This I found to be a neat direction to take the character, and it does add to things later. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving to those I haven’t told so, and I hope you can avoid shopping of any sort this weekend.
Dreamed I was living in a small apartment that belonged to N. There were many strange things that I only half remember. Mostly I remember the Ratatosk episode. From the time I moved in, there was a small rat that scurried about the room. I thought little of it to start, but later he grew to such a large size that I became somewhat alarmed at his presence. So at one point, I told N that the rat was sort of pissing me off (it had nipped at me once) and he tossed it out the window. It then turned into a baby and landed in a pool. N decided he didn’t want to throw it out afterall, and we both went to retrieve it. We rescued it from the pool, and it remained a baby. Not knowing what else to do, we took care of it, giving the child the middle name of Ratatosk.
Untenable
http://www.newscientist.com/news/news.jsp?id=ns99996679
“Superman is too good a role model. Fans of the man from Krypton
unwittingly compare themselves to the superhero, and realise they do
not measure up. And as a result, they are less likely to help other
people.
…
They asked students to list the characteristics of Superman, or
alternatively superheroes in general, as part of a larger
questionnaire. Later on, subjects were given the opportunity to
volunteer for a fictitious community programme.
Students who thought of Superman volunteered much less of their time
than those who thought about other superheroes. Furthermore,
Superman-primed subjects were significantly less likely to show up at a
meeting for volunteers held three months after they were initially
asked to participate.”
This explains much of my thought on Christianity. While noble in principle, this sort of thing points to a possible reason as to why it seems so ham-handed (imo) in execution.
Cool.
Years ago, I left a copy of my then favorite book, Demian by Hermann Hesse, at work… based entirely on a hunch. The next day it was gone. I was glad that it had found a new home to go to. However, nothing could have shocked me more than when it showed back up two weeks later with a single word written on the inside of the cover: “Thanks.”
That having been said, the programmer of the aforementioned website, Bookcrossing.com, seems to be missing under odd circumstances.
Don’t forget to floss…
This is a good article about the Kabbalah Center and their bunkum Red String that someone posted on one of my Yahoo Groups.
Tarot reading generator
If you like this, please consider contributing knowledge to the site. It’s just a simple wiki devoted to ‘occult’ knowledge in general. I added a few things in the Tree of Life section of the Kabalah heading, so check ‘em out if you’re interested in understanding what I do.
The last goodbye
So many things running through my head right now. Last night I dreamed of a dark skein and a woman of infinite desire.
I’ve come to the culmination of so many things in my life. I’ve pretty much said my goodbye’s, although there is one left. Where I go from here is anyone’s guess. I suppose that things will change when the baby comes. I will change.
So many storylines pass through my mind quickly, evaporating in the light of examination. They foment within the slick black vitriol of the subconscious, turned to light only when the darkness roils. Epiphanies swarm like moths at my every step, sometimes blinding me even to my hand in front of my face. They are like smoke by day, but by night they burn with a strange light, like fireflies or phosphor. I am diligent. I continue to walk though reality seems to skew away from me in every odd direction. I wield my sanity as a sextant, my line to the horizon leading me ever onward, the sun in my eyes being my only hope.
An old friend lent me a book wanting to know it’s rarity and if it was worth any money. Doesn’t look like it is.
Came to some realizations about the old social circle. Activated my shadow through resonance, then dove into it. I came out okay. I can still feel the rhythm of the shade in my bones. I am dead to the person I used to be. The King is dead, long live the King.
The pomegranate trees at my parent’s house are being taken away. They dig out the soil around them, then box up about 4 feet by 4 feet by 3 feet (deep) of dirt. Then they slide a bottom onto the box, and forklift ‘em out. I am very sad to see them go. The family story that goes with those trees went something like this: Someone wanted to get rid of them because they weren’t making any money. Aunt Shoney (I have no idea who’s aunt that is) told the person in question that not everything was about money. Now they are being sold for a pittance, to no purpose. The whole place seems like it is eroding.
I haven’t been very good about writing here, but I’m going to try and start again. I thought about NaNoWriMo, and in backlash ended up not writing anything for a month. Sometimes I love the strangeness of my subconscious complexes. They do make life interesting if nothing else.
Just as a point of reference
http://www.pantheon.org/articles/l/loki.html
Loki is the child of two giants, the son of Farbauti and Laufey, not Odin.
http://www.pantheon.org/areas/genealogy/principal_norse.html
Check out the two alternate genealogies. Neither one has Loki as Odin’s son.
According to Wikipedia, the primary instance of Loki being the brother of Thor is in Marvel comics.
“In the Marvel Universe that serves as the setting for many Marvel Comics publications, Loki is a supervillain who is the primary enemy of Thor, who in Marvel’s continuity is Loki’s half-brother or foster brother.”
Oh yeah, and thanks for confirming my thoughts on the subject.
dream and meme
Okay, so I don’t start work until Wednesday now… not so bad, considering that Halloween was kind of a roller coaster ride of sorts. Strangely enough, I’m still not entirely sure why I’m here. I mean, I don’t have to be anymore, but I’m still staying out of some strange sense of serendipity. I’ve been told that this could lead to good things, but I’m still pretty baffled as to what they might be. Last phase of the beginning segment, I think.
posted August 24, 2003
The Last Mage Game
K and I were walking along a long lonely highway. She was my only support and help during this time. Other people would travel with us for a time, but they would always leave. They always had a story to tell. A few of them were from Drug Court, although certainly not all. Most of them, once I told my own story, and how I got out from under the system, decided to go back and deal with their legal issues.
Nikki showed up one day. She had turned everything around, and was actually a decent human being. She walked with us for awhile, and told us all about how she had driven Bo away, and ended up using, or something like that. We continued to help out travelers here and there. Finally we reached a plain of grass, where Nick and Jared were waiting. Nick wanted to let bygones be bygones, and to start gaming. He started telling me about this Jamaican Mage character who was in the T-shirt business. He went into great detail, finally revealing that the business was a front, for an occult organization that was putting Gates all around the world, to accomplish the final redemption. I looked at Kristi and she nodded. I said, “Nick, the only Gate that is necessary is right here,†and I pointed to his heart, as I made the Connection. The shocked look on his face quickly turned to joy. He turned and made the connection with Jared. All four of us stood in a circle with our hands on each other’s shoulders.
My perspective shifted upward (like it panned outwards until I could see the whole planet), and I saw connections firing off at random, starting from our location and spreading around the world, sort of like I’d imagine a brain would do, if it were starting to dream.
Chassidic Sci-Fi?!?!?!
The final book of Narnia, you’re a sometimes disturbing story about the end of the world and the beginning of a new one. Your characters include an evil monkey, a misguided donkey, stubborn dwarves and all the human characters from the previous books. You manage to be heartbreaking and beautiful at once.Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.
| At your ten year high school reunion… by robbiewriter | |
|---|---|
| Your school name | |
| Your name | |
| Your job will be | Porn star |
| You will be worth | $344,074 |
| Everyone will think you | smell like you did in PE |
| Quiz created with MemeGen! | |

You are King Arthur of the Britons! You let no-one
stand in your way, you are brave and strong!
Keep searching, you’ll find the grail yet!
Which Monty Python & the Holy Grail Character are you REALLY?
brought to you by Quizilla
