just more meaningless chatter|
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|Monday, December 5th, 2011|
|Was I Ever?... At All?
Bagby Hot Springs
I climbed sleepless up the mountain
to the place my heart once fell
The path was cold and icy
and the night was too dark to see
A river roared below the icy bridge
below the gangplank to my heart's last sighting
I imagined how it would feel to slip off
and fall into my sorrow
I held the rail tightly
I trampled the dead hearts of former lovers
the ones that mattered not
They were everywhere on the mountain
Have they no place else to sleep?
I was naked when I saw her
glistening under the stars
Her long hair went on forever
and her ass was as perfect as his words
I dared not try to imagine
that I had experienced
flesh so fair
I slipped naked into the tub
and peered off into the darkness
The water was so hot I wanted to escape it
the air was so cold I wanted to escape it
my soul was so numb I couldn't feel it
my eyes could not cry
Snow fell from the sky
I settled into dreamtime
I drifted everywhere around the mountain
in search of my fallen heart
Of course I could not find it
Was it ever there at all?
Was it ever in his heart at all?
Was i ever?
With nothing left to do
I listened to the muffled chatter
of the folks up on the mountain
I granted myself absolution
|Monday, October 31st, 2011|
|This Old Thing!
Where to post, where to write, wherever will I go to tell my secrets to? It's dusty but it still fits. Luke pleaded with me to go with him to Keep It Dirty 3 so he could meet a FB friend that would make an acceptable lover. Luke worried that I'd be too sick and checked daily to ensure I'd be good to go. We met at his house about 9:30 ish so he could finish his costume and I could put on mine. He fretted that we wouldn't get there until 11:00 p.m. We left in separate cars because he needed to make a stop. Then he disappeared into some chemical excursion that delayed his arrival by 2 hours, leaving me to "face the music" alone.
I prayed before I entered the bar. I literally sat in my car to get my magick in order debating whether or not to even go in. I hadn't had time to plan for more than accompanying Luke, so my costume was last minute and understated. I however found it brilliant in that way that I alone tend to appreciate my art. I'd read that the party would include a blood filled wrestling mosh pit and that people planning to get messy should bring extra clothes. This inspired me to wear white. I wore a top layer of simple white cotton and a black underlayer. I figured I could spend the first part of the night pure, and then get bloody. I would stain my innocence and virtue with one forbidden move. Then having "fallen", I would strip down to a witchy black tango skirt and finish the evening in my natural evil state of partial undress. I even had white underwear over black underwear. I hadn't accounted for everything but I was mostly pleased. I had even grabbed my black rubber rain boots on my way out the door, recalling that when I bought them in Seattle I had figured they could cross over to fetish in a pinch.
I looked frumpy. My white skirt was pleated and lined, went well below the knees. I looked plain, neither sexy nor deliberately the opposite. I was the antithesis of costume, save maybe the rubber boots. Would I be able to transform?
I found friends and praised Jah that one of them would dance dirty with me. This came as a shock, like the universe throwing me a bone. She was one of my gopi singers and rap heroes. I will make erotic art with her before I die, I swear it. We shared her, me and some guy that is, one her current or former lovers I think.
I got so hot I had to leave....temperature wise. I went outside to cool off. All those layers plus it was at least a thousand degrees. The blood pit hadn't arrived, and wasn't scheduled until after 1:00 a.m someone said. I debated whether to just layer down. But my white frumpy skirt was proving fun. I could pull up the top layer and do all sorts of fun moves with it. The bottom layer was shear. I was making the most of it. It was after all the "Keep It Dirty" party catering to queers, trans...you know folks who arent afraid to cross dress, undress, kiss random strangers.
When did we kiss? I think it was after the bloodbath. I was feeling so much lighter maybe. My red goo soaked skirt, shirt, and white underwear were hanging off some chair in a corner. My goo drenched rubber boots were against the wall. I was down to a reasonable layer of attire, just scanty enough to be acceptable, but not really slutty. It was halloween. There was no use in trying to be slutty on the sluttiest day of the year. Concede before even engaging. Don't even try...
The kiss was an unexpected, long, deep, and very blissful. I didn't see it coming. He hadn't once tried dancing up on me all night. I completed a sandwich with him on the other side of our gooey gopi girl middle, and then moved my way around her slowly into his space. He grabbed me firmly and began dancing. I was shocked. He was young and had a very good body. I confirmed this later when I saw him naked. He seemed like he could be as into guys as girls. Later a guy with a face painted like a ghoul tracked him down to try to get his number. I'd seen them dance, but didn't see them kiss. Who knows, maybe he kissed him too, maybe I was a thousand kisses deep.
I almost worried for a moment that people I knew were spying me and this hot guy kissing. Luke missed it. He missed both kisses, the two way kiss and the three way kiss. Luke later told me I was dancing very dirty. Really? How dirty? I honestly would like to know this. I don't think I have one move left these days.
It was a long hard wet deep kiss, decisive and passionate. It seemed to almost take on a life all it's own. I don't know if it was 60 seconds or three minutes. No, it definitely was not 3 minutes, that would have made it a "make out" and it was really just a long kiss. I think he may have been as surprised as I was. I kissed him back without even the slightest reluctance. Maybe he just knew I needed to be kissed long and hard in the open air, for all the world to look on in disapproval. Later when all three of us kissed, I imagined we should have an orgy. But then I realized that would just wreck it. A kiss like that best just stand alone, complete and free.
|Thursday, December 9th, 2010|
Called me sweetheart and told me I had a cute hat, and that I couldn't get rid of him yet. I told him I did for 6 years (not 7 oh well). He explained in words I half understood. The good part is I couldn't explain it to anyone if they asked. Jah is kind, even when he is cruel.
Gopal layed it down for me. I walked through the snow with a Papaya. The devotee shoveling the sidewalk struggled for the words to describe the fresh snow. In unison we said "bright"
I owe Luke a small fee for peeling my clementines. He tacked the rinds to teh wall next to RAdha and Krsna in my office. That makes it an offering right?
My Dakini went to Leohnard Cohen with Mark. I remembered why I couldn't. But maybe I was there, invoked at some point. I'm going to go to sleep now.
|Friday, July 3rd, 2009|
|my cuntry tis of thee...
sweet land of liberty...
funny how one wrong word can make all the difference. decided not to fix my typo, but for the record it was one.
everything is different again, change is in the air. outside a siren is blaring. wally will be here soon. mark has my car, he's using it to delivery pizzas. aaron is finally going to visit my home, and he's bringing a vanagon full of folk apparently, at least one I've never met, but am "gonna love" for sure.
i finally got to dance with chris--his OTO tattoo and new hairdo glistening with sweat. I nuzzled up to Laura, some stranger nuzzled up to me. The girls all seemed to be 15 and perfect. The music took me back and forward and elsewhere in that way that bliss does...on a good day.
i left my old job. i start a new job on tuesday. i don't know what to do about my cyber rabbit rockstar, or the 20 year old former member of the virgin club. i'm a pornographer and my version of secret, that i thought meant sacred, private, discreet, actually meant drama, gossip, trash talking. uhhhh the downfall of all that is pure and good rest upon my evil scarlet tresses uno mas veces. alas
wally got here early--20 minutes. bye gotta fly.
|Tuesday, May 5th, 2009|
Hopefully the presence of someone somewhat removed from it all will keep me from bawling throughout the Leonhard Cohen show. I cried all the way to work. I'm afraid to talk to....anyone, about it....ever? Am I really afraid forever? Is it mine and Leonhard's alone forever? His songs my salvation, his lyrics the thinnest thread of light that reached into the darkest demon realm and gave me something to hold onto....until. It was a brutal brdo. But it's all over now. I pray I pray I plead I bow I am grateful no matter what.... I'm just going to a show. I'm not going back. Please may I never go back. I pray I pray I plead I bow--grateful, humble, free.
|Saturday, April 25th, 2009|
joey got a wild turkey yesterday and he's making a family feast of it este noche--so un otro dia until.....i can fast.
i walked along the lakeshore with mark and we talked about many things. he wondered when we "became real friends" as in began hanging out just the two of us. i promised to look it up on livejournal, because i wrote about tears and mud after we hung out one night at rochambo. I knew it was sometime in April, so it was a year and a day ago at least. That night I confessed to him that I was in demonic form, and he being psychotic interpretted this...well quite literally perhaps. They were strange and desperate times for us both. I cried more tears by some infinite factor more than all the tears I had ever cried before in all my lives. I waited to float up to higher realms, I willed myself to bloom, i found a box, i didn't die... obli di obla da, bob i can see you pointing at me like garab dorje in the only dream/vision of you i ever had since you passed. it was years ago, but i can see you as clear as a bell. mark's journey was frightening and slow to restore from too. and meanwhile the exalted held el dakini under a powerful spell, as the mage took over his home and family, and the angel got programmed to a describe samsara with words like..."boundaries" and "personalization" o ya and my husband paid for his sins by lining the pocket of a court appointed sex counselor who used the mandated sessions to ask me what to do about his sex life with his wife...
seems we are all breathing a little easier now--the whole planet. my angel wrote a lyric, "if i can't have you i want everyone else instead" and one wrote me that goes, "if i can't ride you, then i want to ride a bike instead." i need to eat yogurt.
ok what else--if i.....clean the closet floor in the kitchen and all the cupboards, and get the front office completely vacated, and...get the porch clean....and rearrange and clean george's room and the upstairs playroom....then...then something....then rather than being rewarded with a motherlode i'll probably just miss it.
paco said the nicest things to me, about my career my future my life--like a coach then he told me i looked exceedingly hot at the meeting. and the new guy--martini guy--told me my stockings made him crazy--he texted me from the bathroom asking to see my video, offered me a job, looked sad to learn i am married. i was so horny that day. i should've gone to a graveyard and visualized. I'm like Laura, I don't masturbate. It sucks and it's futile. I had a good visualization awhile ago--a ritual. She was in it--her and 4 other gopis, like a pentagram, or lotus, or mandala of buddha families, all on their knees, perhaps blindfolded, but exotically adorned and smelling sweetly. A kind magickal creature--youthful and beautiful beyond compare stood in the middle. With five squirts, five streams of immortal ambrosia and his nectar landed in the mouths of the 5 scarlet palates. I don't know if this is physically possible in the real world, but for the visualization it was .....magicka, with me the mastermind prepping and adorning the girls as offerings, ensuring they met with the approval of Krsna, wrapping the space in rainbow light--invoking the protection of the guardians of all left handed tantrik systems--being the "---" in the magickal forulae. It was the first rite of the sc cooperative--ceremonial sex magick on the astral plan. uncle al--Ha Ha Ha!
ok what else....ya i'm at work, procrastinating the stuff i really neeeeed to do. bad girl. but there was some other pressing thing to let dissolve in cyberspace...hmmmmm. i just don't recall--maybe that i am no less financially destitute than a year ago, despite what i really feel has been a good faith effort on my part. and yet, and yet i am rich in spirit, richer than kings, and queens and sultans and shieks. the things that matter most are more abundant than ever.
It's thundering outside
|Saturday, January 31st, 2009|
|i looked the damn words up!!
Time passes slowly up here in the mountain
We sit beside the bridges and walk beside the fountains
Catch the wild fishes that float though the stream
Time passes slowly when you're lost in a dream.
Once I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-looking
She sat in the kitchen while her mama was cooking
Stared on out the window to the stars high above
Time passes slowly when you're searching for love.
i was going to post a message on my nephews wall, one of the few connectors to people i best not connect, yet seems OK. But then, but then, but then.... there were 2 wall posts from Joey regarding book recommendations. The second post said he was a couple hundred pages into the Frontiersman and was just loving it.
and then it said.... i think I'll read 100 Years of Solitude next. My god there is a god. I quickly navigated away, said nothing, left no trace.
on a similar note, i'm mining, migrating, and poofing--sifting and winnowing--letting the world decay in peace for a change. time passes slowly then fades away....
|Wednesday, January 28th, 2009|
|Friday, January 23rd, 2009|
|One Short Day Later
I guard Samsara, I am a guardian. I'm bad at web surfing. I don't like cyber porn and everything and everyone bores me. thats horrible. i must be lying, this cant be true. i am tired. wally is sick. i slept only a little. my big night out wasn't so big, but i didn't get too much sleep all the same. had to deliver an acorn bag, have lunch with a friend, see my dear angel.
ya its true, i'm mostly softcore, subtle energies get me hot, it is harder to keep from cumming with clothes on than it is with clothes off. hardcore is good with el dakini. he could drag me by the hair across gravel, rip me oriface to oriface, and i would melt and scream in ecstasy at his grace, his wrath, and his mercy. why the fuck is that? well it all ended too abruptly. we are reserved and careful now, plagued by circumstance...afraid of cameras, taboos, nuclear fallout, what it would be like to go over the edge that we (or me or we) once got close to in a forbidden and distant dream.
i promised to be good. it will be losar in 4 days. i've made and cancelled a zillion plans. i won't be hopping on a plane for oddiyana. i won't be checking into a psych ward. the exalted will not appear to claim the heart of the fallen and deliver my fate.
i want to dance slowly, be held tightly, close my eyes, and lose touch with reality briefly. i remembered how to forget for a moment the other night. pure grace.
|Thursday, January 22nd, 2009|
|Gran Torino, the Wrestler, and Don Juan DiMarco...
there are moments and stretches where i feel hopeful. people still want me in ways that i find quite flattering and endearing--emotionally, spiritually, erotically, intellectually, artistically. but the dark moments are too dark. mark saw me in the expression of the old dancer in the wrestler in the moments before she walked away. don juan dimarco and i belong in an alternate realm, once one returns from the mystical to the mundane, nothing but shadows lay in wait, i don't want to die....like.....that, instead i want to die....like....that.
|Friday, November 21st, 2008|
|on the eve
santa baby, put a sable under the tree, for me....
my stomach feels weird lately
haven't had a proper feast in awhile perhaps
i feel hunted lately, even roberto manifested from the blue--ugh
i feel misunderstood lately, if a new and beautiful dakini manifested naked in a field of roses, i would cower
i feel sad lately, no one likes to give, everyone loves to take, i don't want to know what my birthday will feel like, i don't want to remember those that came before,
bu bu bu ba,,,, you can have it allllllll.
myspace rabbit said something that said something more....finally, he is starting to feel....like something a little more real maybe, i think we are growing on each other in very small ways
i wish i knew if i get a day off next week for real, that would really be something to be thankful for
i have way tooooo much to be thankful for, and way tooooo little to give
alas my ghetto booty ass....is waxed!
pure bliss, no 1/8 inch stubbies to impede my golden vibe
|Monday, November 3rd, 2008|
|i need to sleep
i don't know what to do about Shannon Haggett.
What does equanimity mean anyways?
I wonder when Allison will die. I wonder when I will too.
I hate my video project. What if it's a eulogy? I love my friends, if I could delete myself out, I'd feel much better. Today Joe killed a football, shot it dead. I tagged my mom's garage while she was at my house watching the packer game. There are parts of my life I'd like to rewind to and hit pause. Last night it was 1:08 twice. Can I invoke some daylight savings time in my life. Kutsch told me Charlie and his friend were talking in the car and his friend said I am way younger than the woman who died and for sure younger than his mom. I am way older than them both. It'll be nice to get back to writing. Multi media reminds me too much of my life. i miss the river of dead bulls, laying naked on a hot rock, 2000 lightyears from home.
|Monday, September 22nd, 2008|
|update on all things meaningless
i am 1/52nd of the way thru financial brdo, maybe that's being optimistic, maybe that's being pessimistic. i saw a rat in the alley. i got a very impressive looking certificate from the bureau of regulation and licensing. i try to thank mark everytime i see him for turning me onto that job. i was looking on craig's list too, but the stuff i was finding turned my stomach
kev emptied his pockets to give me ten bucks when he heard i was scavenging change from the laundry room to put enough gas in my tank to make it to work. I tried not to take it, he made me and he said nice things that made me want to cry. the my space rabbit rockstar told me if i were in the rehearsal room backstage with him, he'd cancel the show. it was just a line, but it was a good one, it made me smile. my husband paid me fifty bucks for head this morning and told me if he lost everything and had only fifty bucks left to his name he'd use it to buy a BJ from me. it was just a line, but it was a good one, it made me smile.
i cried all the way to work listening over and over to 2 songs on my I-pod. when men kidnap women and turn them into sex slaves, the victims go through a period of fighting and trying to escape, but the kidnapper uses mind control techniques to slowly slowly condition them for servitude. eventually they won't escape even when they can. when prisoners go to the hole in prison, i think they may go through a similar process of acceptance and resolve of their situation. i think i am going through something like this too. in time i will adjust to my circumstance and eventually, in time, i'll emerge to a different one. i dreampt i got in my car and someone from the backseat put their hands around my neck. i was spooked at work the next morning. i was spooked in the dark on floor 2 and the parking garage.
i edited prior writing for hours and hours at work, i'm so picky, never ever satisfied with words--i hate them for the ways they fail me. there are peices missing from the middle that i am afraid and unable to write still. i went to my box bowed, prayed, pleaded, set my intention, directed my will or surrender.
i showed kev the crib-note-version-of-crowley book i made for the guy at the coffee shop with 93 tattooed on his arm. i felt like an apprehensive student waiting to see "how much i got wrong". he was proud, i could tell--his only edit was grammatical, his only comment tangential. i kinda wanna make a copy of it before i give it to him. i like that i boiled all that massive maze of thelemic verbage down to its essence. i am so grateful to be a Dzogchen practitioner. NN teachings and all the teachings i've received are so amazing. I am so grateful for what my life has included. I can't even believe most of of it.
i'm behind in both my classes, behind in wsnac, behind in my job, near penniless with 8 days left to go in this month. And yet. And yet. And yet. I have the most amazing beautiful landscape and beautiful creatures in my Mandala--I've travelled to places in this realm and others, experience pain and pleasure to the nth degree. I think I must be the luckiest samsaric soul to ever take human form.
|Thursday, August 14th, 2008|
|even if things were different
i willed myself to stop crying by the end of april, so i wouldn't have to go on meds. i even ended early, gave myself a margin. lately the low grade sadness has returned, but it's only been a couple of weeks and actual tears are mostly sporadic and need to be coaxed. today my credit card didn't work. it's maxed out. finally i am left with only cash in hand to survive. i've pursued 1security job and 1 bakery driver job and I think one other position. I've resisted responding to 2 potentially illegal gigs in Chicago. I got a call on the bakery driver job but it's not going to work out. I signed up for 9 credits of night classes to "retool my skillset." I wish I had bought a new portable vacuum before I maxed out the credit card. I need to use the last of my loan to send annual support payments to my vajra nuns. i keep telling myself to be brave. there is an old and eery feeling from a time long past that arises now and then. i keep telling myself to be brave.
my angel is turning 30. i put all my heart into sending him well wishes and bringing forth the latent love of others as best i could. i both succeeded and failed at this. yesterday i made him a homemade card. i put a collage of 5 pix on the front, with a heart with the words "angel b.free" typed in it, embedded within the flying dakini pic. on the back i pasted in things i had written about him over the past couple of years, things he would never have occasion to see. on the inside i wrote him a greeting card style poem, entitled "Because of you...." in the poem, i lightened my load by one secret. i confessed that because of him, i eat lunch out of the breakroom vending machines.
yeah i eat salami sandwiches on white bread ($1.95) a bag of chips (.75 or top row .90) and a mocha with max whitener, sugar, and strength (.65). i transform it all to prasad and i share it with an angel and sometimes a dakini, and sometimes some others too. RGI guards transform into guardians, it is they who work for us, we invoke their samaya, it is us who are free. when i finished the card, i bawled. i didn't have to coax a thing. the tears came all on their own.
even if things were different, they would still be different still.
my angel is in prison, my mage is in the bar, my girlfriends are scattered, my dakini found a nice girl, my compatriot came to his senses, bob died some time ago. i don't know where the others are. i hope they are well and fine. last night i snuggled with charlie and he stayed in our bed all night. kutsch got pissed off just the same as he has for the past 18 years. dads don't like sharing their beds with their children. moms do.
even if things were different, they would still be different still.
my angels little brother is building me a bike. he asked if i want to see it. i said "nah, i'll wait" on the inside i thought, i don't want to see it, i want to jump on, feel the warm leather best-of-it's-kind seat between my legs, ride it to the edge of of the four times, fall off the edge of the earth, land on the peak of mt. meru, drink mate with a dakini, remember all the best, forget all the worst, laugh, cry, dissolve into emptiness, remain there for 10,108 years, manifest once more, do it all over again.
even it things were different they would still be different still.
if i could rearrange all the peices of this life, what of it really. itiswhatitisweareweittherearenomistakes
i feel pretty good really. it's not so o o o o hard to change my view. it's my view--can't be boughtnorsold, nodebtcollectorcantakeitaway, itcantbehauledofffromthecornerlikebruce's
bed. it's my view. ok it's our view. ok we'll just say it's no one's view, a clear view, a pure view, an empty view. an... itworksiuiworkit view.
|Wednesday, July 30th, 2008|
|i went off to college
the universe is too kind. things change for the better as much as for the different. i've been eating ice cream again. kev banned it from my life for at least 7 years. last night mark and i cooked corn from the farm and brown rice. he asked if we had the little prong things to stick in the ends. we stopped using those years ago. on the way home joe and i stopped by the former lake lost to impermanence and floods. there were deer, wild turkeys, and mosquitoes. he peered. i peered. we peered together back in time, foreward in time, within the time that held our presence. time plays so many tricks you know--some of them are very kind.
|Thursday, July 3rd, 2008|
|god bless america
i made it...thru a lot ..in recent times. and lately i've been thinking about the poems i write, well the ones that write me, the ones that form their own words and divine the future. who needs tarot cards, tea leaves, or crystal balls. a pen and knapkin wil do just fine. but the words don't erase when the message is doom. so now that i am writing again, i am recalling this danger and wondering if maybe i should stick with prose. prose come with thought, there's an intervention of mind, that is often absent in poetry. poetry is like water. it flows unstoppable and reaches every crevice of lower ground. undini, am i an undini? i was told once i am, but i don't even know what the words mean.
i reconnected to the pyschotic times of an earlier era, my god i am so grateful to be on solid ground.
|Wednesday, June 25th, 2008|
|a week has gone bye bye bye
I reconnected to 2 Thelemites and a former virgin, in just the nick of time. What an odd combo though huh.
I finally bit the bullet and wrote my confession of sins under the title of "fuck it" So I can take it to my therapist, my sponsor, Blam... some far off new hidden blog....the pages of some never-to-be-seen book, a graveyard, a furneral pyre. Who knows. There are 13 "insert noun here" over 8 years, or over 25 years really and only 2 of them flat out horrible. It's a 1 page abstract of all my acts of commission. For this men hold me in contempt and the Christians would stone me. It could make a twisted rap song, but neither I, nor the genre, are worthy of such a union.
I am in love with Leonhard Cohen. I swear he was sent by God to deliver me from evil. I saw "I'm your man" again, and remembered the quote I love so much, which I need to write down next time and commit to permanent memory, so I can recite it, as necessary, at will.
Meanwhile, I think a good ol fashioned masseure, could restore balance to my universe. I don't need a happy ending, I just need to be the center of the universe for a short contrived, bought and paid for, while. It is easier to buy an illusion than to either seduce or succumb to one, and a lot less misleading and complicated. I had a conversation with some polyamorists and remembered that I am not one. I, it turns out, am an anarchist. You will never find a parrot in my window.
|Thursday, June 19th, 2008|
|i had a nice chat with lena
about dead ladybugs and old art projects and aleister crowley. i played pool with nathan and mark and read recent things they had written by pool table light. i took 3 naps yesterday, 1 in infinite space, 1 at the first hotel parking lot on 27th off the exit, and one in the george webb's parking lot off the 36 exit. i am so broke, i've begun selling bjs to my husband again. lena liked my book, the one for jinpa that he died before i could give him. i'm working on the mountain method of mate, so that i always have a dry patch of mate upon which to survive apocolyptic floods. i gotta get the auction dinner invitations to the printer by 4:00 or I'll be dawgmeet at the the yacht club. i think what's importatnt here is that i am back on the horse. Current Mood: okay
|Monday, March 10th, 2008|
|Back when i was 4 and i knew the name of every dinosaur
in the land where i am 14, the view from Mt. Meru is breathtaking. i dance unabashedly on the outskirts of time, i am beautiful and never age. I radiate compassion through bliss.
in the land where i am 17, i am driven mad in ecstasy by krishna's ethereal flute. ten thousand one hundred eight gopis abandon their chores to run to his side, each of us longing to be radha for an instant or eternity.
in the land where i am 24, i cling to the lowest dregs of society in the basements of churchs, where together we find refuge, reprieve, and freedom in one another's collective embrace. in this land, today is my birthday. people will clap ,cheer, and tell me i'm a miracle
in the land where i am 38, i am a cat who has been granted one more life. my friends are half my age, yet they tell me i am cool and treat me like their own. i listen to music the rest of the world has never heard of and stay up way past my bedtime
in the land where i am 45, i belong to a yacht club and my kids are practically grown. my husband is a saint and i am up to my eyeballs in debt.
in the land where i am 93, i vacillate between being a scarlet altar--revered and worshiped--and a despised harlot, crawling dark wet streets alone. the gods are tricksters, love is the law, everyone is free to do what thou wilt--but one's "true will" is easy to misalign
in the land where i am 108, i merge with all my teachers, and dissolve in a tigle of rainbow light. For a brief moment i find the state of instant presence. The rest of the time i struggle to work with circumstance, slowly slowly expand my limited capacity, integrate, and gain clarity.
in the land where i am 10,108, Krishna and I have at long last merged eternally, mirabai no longer weeps, all that is left behind are teeth and hair, maybe a fingernail or two. Tara is luminesce, all paths lead to the peak of Mt Meru, i am eternally 14, rainbow light dancing across the sky.
in the land where i am infinite, i do not exist as such at all, this is all a just a dream you know.
Well, in the land where i am 24, today is my birthday, my clean day, the day i found a way out of a whole lot of samsaric suffering and cause. So after that perhaps I found some different samsara, and created a bunch more cause, some of it even positive maybe. my brothers and sisters in recovery are precious teachers and gifts. i rejoice in their presence in my life. i am so lucky to b.free. just for today.
|Wednesday, February 27th, 2008|
The clouds out the window of the airplane were so beautiful. I wished i could take a picture. I saw Rinpoche sitting on them for a moment, then i turned away. I listened to Yo La Tengo and wanted to cry. My eyes filled with tears but none came out. They just sat there as bewildered as me at the world awaiting below.
Ben and I have been drinking mate, he has been my only consistent mate mate for awhile. I felt peace to recall that the thermos, bag, gourds...sit in the office kitchen area amidst the other coffee stuff. They are commonplace and ordinary, have been for a while. Its a little thing I suppose, but the thinnest of threads holds us between worlds.