Nothing Isn't.

You know, it is weird how emotions bubble up and how old things rekindle new fires. In 3 days, much of my outlook seems to have just been twisted ever so slightly to the side, and though little has actually happened, I feel like a new person; or rather, I feel more like an old me, but reawakened. Perhaps I realized how precious things are, how absolutely wonderful life is; maybe my heart just opened a little wider to Nature; I want to cry and laugh at the same time, a feeling of being utterly overwhelmed simply by a Fire in my Heart. Things are too short to be worrying so much, because well... it can just end. So I want to give up my voice in celebration to the Mighty Temple of Nature; to sing to Her who lives inside Mystery. I want to try and bring Her to all those out there who still live in sorrow, squandering this mighty Gift, and I want to take a voice up against those who destroy Her and rape Her. I want to die to it all and burn myself up in this heart of mine, a heart I have for too long been scared of.

It is as though a small hole was burst in a big damn, and a little bit of light is shining in. It is warming, yet weakening. I can not even really express the subtlety of any of it. For this reason, I am bidding adue to this live-journal. It is time for a new start yet again, for fresher better energies; things closer to me, closer to my heart, closer to my Eye, closer to my devotion. I wish I could say what i am feeling or what my heart is doing, but I can not. So I leave you with a poem by Leonard Cohen which says much more than I think I could right now. Please ponder his lovely words, for they say so much; and anyone who is feeling down, who is poisoning their mind and body and who has been made bitter by the habitations of mortal men I say "leave their habitations and return to the temple of nature and worship at her mighty oaks, her sunlight glades, her deer and her flowers. Give up these petty and mortal concerns- think not overmuch. Let the light in through the cracks and feel again what has been taken from you in this Damned society. Give up searching and worship. Blessings to you all; and I will see you again in another form.

"The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring ...

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in."

this process of dissolving, slowly breaking down barriers, opening up the floodgates of change... letting go. new webs being weaved, and I, trying to find peace amongst it all, am being tossed about. Lost, and yet found; dead, and yet more alive than ever. "Dead yet sensing life beyond the living." Seeking.... what? Piles of stagnant corpses littered around my mind, and now it seems also in my body. Seeking health, energy, balance. Am I along in it, or do I have company? My mind is quite confused- and my heart... well, my heart keeps on going, keeps on feelings. What love have I sought? Will my heart ever find its home, the place it calls to find? Sweet and bitter muse, dark imp that has led me on, where do we go now? Where do you take me; through what strange and twisted passages do we go now? What end is in sight on this bitter road? Dark little imp, what spell have you cast on me that keeps me moving, keeps me following? What things lurk around me, what monsters has my mind made for me to see? Nailed to this bitter cross, this tree- nailed by iron spikes forged in the furnace of my very chest- what will you to do me in this position of helplessness? When will oblivion cover all, and when can I rest? When will I see you in full glory, dark imp? When will you unveil yourself to me... am I no made worthy yet? When will the purification be enough; when will the fear subside and give rise to beauty and triumph... when will the test be finished? Passing dark grave stones of forgotten loves; passing shadowed memories, beliefs bloated and rotting, bodies of long dead ideas. Why have you led me back here? And why do the thorns still burn?

When will I rise up again?

How I love you little imp, darkly splendid, bountiful image of infinite night... I would follow you wherever you did go, I would accept the slings and arrows of the bitter crowds; I would press on through the taunts and slanders of the onlookers; even to the cross, to the spear that threatens to pierce my side would I go. I love you, as my own soul I follow on still, as I always have. What lessons does my pain bring, what strengths do I cull from my darkness? What courage do I gain from facing hell alone, following you onwards and downwards? What will be my reward?

Whatever it is, the pain of love is but love; the joy of love is but love. All things are transcended and transmuted in you, dark imp of the night. The tasks are arduous and weary and choked with nettles and briers, yet ever on to the grove to I follow- with joy in my heart- with a secret seed given to me- a holy tryst between myself and my God- a secret made for you alone, to be whispered when all is said and done. A Word, a spell, a mighty sword. A word that by the same mouth it is whispered it may be uttered. When we are one, dear child, dear imp, dear night, then our mouths will be as one, and the Word will be uttered and World shall explode. This word is my kiss to you, dearest one. My Word is my burden is my pain is my cross that bare, and when I am strung up by it, tied to it- then I will extend, and we shall know each other as we are.

Know that i love you- I do all I do for you alone. My sweetest perfection- my ideal- my Jerusalem.

it is now 1:20am. I am sitting, typing in a dark living room. I finished my summer school today- cell biology trips me out big time. Yet, even on the first day out, things happen. Money moved, changes hands... I find a few treasures, I trade some things for another kind of useless but more fun thing.

The weather has been odd lately. Hues tinge the energy everywhere. Images seem to rise and dance a little more, and spirit songs drift into reality in small discreet packages of awareness; little bombs of glamors and vision which last a fleeting few seconds. Glimpses of something, a shimmering of a veil. And here I am, slowly decomposing it seems. Ideas mean less and less to me- interpretations, opinions... I have lost contact with common values, with people, with that safe little island of what is "accepted" reality. Adrift and afloat in a vast ocean, carried away by whole new currents. I am terrified. i always wanted this process to be happening to me, i longed for it (my heart still does) but it is the most horrifying experience I have ever had to face. It is a breaking up, a slow and painful dissolving, basking in a radioactive glow, an acid of my mind which corrodes each aspect of my world view and my self. I have involved myself in something- when I started, i thought it would all be well and dandy. Yet even the experiences and flashes of Reality as it seems to appear behind this, and behind/inside me makes my stomach churn. Not that it is bad, but it is so raw when experienced with no moral or intellectual filter- it is like staring into the very mouth of sebek, devourer and consumer- it is a Great Beast "on the threshold of pleasure". My mind swims, my petty self, as I once mistakenly thought it (as if "I" could ever belong to ME! what a notion, and how idiotic to think it could be mine...) pulls apart like taffy, slowly, sticky and temptingly sweet.

Magick begins to rise, like cthulhu- staring at it, mounds of tentacles, each threatening me, ready to consume me, rip my flesh from bone. Not even my spirit is safe anymore. Everything is just a concept, a blockade on the way to experiencing... something that isn't. It is the slow embrace of the Other. Words and logic stand in my way- my mind reels in upon itself, it is cringing back from that abyss... how to take the plunge? you would think that hundreds of acid trips, pounds of mushrooms and strange drugs would prepare you for the journey, but they don't. In many ways, they lull you into a false sense of security, get you feeling nice and then they creep in- then they begin to change you... something sinister is occurring, something is shifting. Things are moving me, placing me, pulling me somewhere... these somethings, what are they? you don't know... but they are like sirens leading sailors to their death. That is perhaps what this is... the death call. What is on the other side? only one way to find out... to draw power from my own death, now.

The literature.. you would think it gives you some idea- but i just stands in the way- something else that needs to be broken down and fed to the beast. Occult is occult for a reason- it is hidden. It can't be faked, or reproduced in bland letters on paper. It is vital and alive, liek life itself- it is full of mystery. If you are not confused and terrified, if you are not in awe at the awefullness of reality (or its lack thereof); if you are not paranoid about what that chair across from you actually is, or what it may be thinking of you; if you are not worried that the old knight who is asleep may wake up and stop dreaming you- if you are not pulsing with the very life of chaos itself, you have some problems.

This is no game, nothing to be toyed with. As they say, be careful what you wish for- you just may get it. What is it you want from this? why do you ask questions? and can you handle the answers as they are; not just create empty philosophical speculation and label it "truth" but rather experience the raw forces that drive your existence? can you stare into the depths of your own soul, past your worst fears, and see the gaping void at the heart of eternity? dare you draw on its power, and take pleasure in its infinite forms? if you say yes, you are a fool. nothing survives there. In there, there is only void. You can't take yourself with you. YOu cant take that nice little "I" there. There will be no you in that experience; it is more like tranimpersonal. It consumes you.

Remember, cthulhu is down in r'lyeh dreaming. He is dreaming you, he is dreaming me. When he awakens, he will consume all of us, and all of this. there is no escape. The most you can hope for is to be devoured first and not draw it out. Do you not believe me? try invoking cthulhu. Let his madness seep into you and over you; feel the paranoia- feel yourself, know yourself to be his dream. His tentacles are ever branch, ever pattern- his mind is in mathematics, in clouds, in the very structure of your body. he breathes all around you. he see's out your eyes, hears what you hear. feel him pulsate, and then see what you have to face. In the journey to the heart of infinity, you must experience EVERYTHING. every thought, every relationship, every fear, as deep as they go. All of it on the way down (up).

My mind is reeling. I am changing. My brain is changing- my reality is changing. I feel a sinking stone in my gut as I grow out. i want to shatter his cocoon, become a mothman. I want OUT.


( here are a few dishes for thought. )

</lj-cut

got my marks back. 73 in psych, 76 in astronomy, 87 in linguistics, 66 in latin, and 76 in bio. A 76 average. My mom was ecstatic about it- me, doing well at school! NO! but yes. I have found my place. It is nice to know I can get a 76 even with all the craziness going on. To be honest, I didn't try that hard come second semester since I was focusing a lot of my school time on getting into the bio mindset. But I am loving the sciences. I am so glad I am not going into a philosophy/psychology double major. I would have gone insane with speculation and "reasoning" and "argument" so called; though the psych would have been much more enjoyable. I am just not made to interact with ideas that can have no actual proof. I am looking forward to my Cell Biology course in 3 weeks. I am reading ahead, and it is totally tripping out my mind, as the sciences seem to do.

My courses for next year are basically decided. As follows.

CHEM100 - Introduction to chemistry
BIOL102H- Current issues in Biology
BIOL200H- Methods of Biological Inquiry
BIOL205H- Introduction to Genetics
BIOL229H- Plants in Society
BIOL317H- Plants and their Ancestors
BIOL318H- Plants in Action
BIOL260H- Evolution
CHEM-BIOL231- Biochemical Concepts

Life is good right now. I am bald and am starting a phase of devotion and humility to my God and His Law. I am happier than ever in where I am in life and where I am going. I feel alive and inspired. Almost all my negative energies have gone from me as I start a new Chapter. I love you all, even those who hate me.

such intricate social interactions, so pristine on the surface, yet writhing on the underside with countless masses of neuroses. The weaving of these games that has gone on too long, yet the true goal is lost between jaded words... thoughts that baffle, that sing too many songs about things that don't matter. What words, what thoughts, what ideas... to have the vanity to replace life with these things; to think it can be explained away. To blaspheme the mystery. On all sides there is vanity; on all sides hemmed in by falsity and lies; by delusions which seem to control like puppeteers, the puppets never seeing their own strings. Looking on as if into a mirror all around. What was wanted was perhaps companionship, perhaps a little indulgence of a hope or ideal. But there can be no more ideals here. There is now only reality. On this path we have little use for trite or empty phrases, for novelties or amusements which distract from this purpose. What purpose that is none seem to know, but it is the mystery, that Holy Whore, that Voluptuous Void, that Brave Beast that beckons us on. Past all of those fake masks, all those nods of fine, greetings of the same one sided small talk things. Escape all these- we seeks, I seek, someone seeks and exit, an escape pod out into that unknown.

There can be no safety from Life, at least not if you wan to Live. The more risk there is, the more Living is present. The amount of danger is a measure of manhood. Where is the manhood is hiding? That is a place for men. THIS IS SPARTA!!!! after all, where are you if you are not hardcore? where are you if you just want your mommy back.... ideas and words, thought and ideals will not save you.... only reality can do that. Waking up is the purpose of this Work. Doing away with falsity, doing away with those fake interactions, seeking out something Real, whatever that may be. What is real? Not this. This is not real. This is an excuse, a lie, a hiding place. Pressing past it all is our Work.. Expanding beyond. Love under Will. WILL. keyword to liberty. Are you FREE? do you feel you have the power to change yourself? if you answer yes; if you hold Self change as being self evident; then you are deluding yourself, your are simply reacting. And not just reacting, not creatively, but in the SAME OLD WAY. when will you stop, look around and try reacting differently...

this is no game. this is life, this is serious, and though we play and make jokes, though we seem full of joviality, it is only because our life blood is in this. This is our sacrifice, our movement away from humanity. This is our pressure for power, our pleasure, our admitting to selfishness as the ultimate selflessness. This is us helping ourselves. This is who i am, raw and uncut. This is me not giving a fuck anymore and doing what i gotta do, mr crowley and all. This is not a relationship, this is not a thing to be struggle against. It is as a joke that you are either laughing at, or the punchline of. It is the desire, the drive, for a world where things are not predetermined- this is a Golden Path, and acting out, a message. This is teaching and a lesson. I am Me, whatever that is. This is what i am saying, whatever it means. I am doing things to everybody all the time- I am changing, manipulating, pushing- I am interacting with Life. That is a keyword here.

LIFE.

Whatever it may mean, it is a process. If you are not busy living, your are dying. Surviving is not living. Surviving is slowly dying. Magick is Life. Not words, not thought, not ideas, not meaningless association or opinions, but a Force as real as gravity- it is a mystery. It is not to be held down on dust laden tomes by word filled intellectuals that feel they can think it all. It is only to those who spill their blood into the cup- it is for those who want not to argue, but revel and play. It is not for those who are the enemies of life, those who fear life. It is no for those who run from what they are, who wan to escape their emotions, their heart, their soul. "this is the law of the strong: this is our law and the joy of the world."

I am a center of pestilence. I am a breeder of discord. I am what you all want me to be, but only because I love; I judge because I love, I hate because i love. This is who I am, all I am. I am antagonistic to all that tries to conform, anything that argues for their way- i am the enemy of the humanity which attempts to make all men equal- to drag all down to the lowest common level. I am the enemy of weakness, of pity, of compassion- the weakness which condemns strength, the pity which weakens a mans honor, the compassion which lowers a mans stature.

I am all these things, yes. but none of them. I have sacrifice myself to become this... i have sacrificed many things. but most of all, I have sacrificed YOU.

This is me. Now.

I am becoming.

There is somethign about this sinking sensation.... it is as though one was slowly moving away from concrete structures into abstract and intangible worlds. Peices fall away that no longer fit into the pattern. Nothing is left there to hold on to, and the more one seems to, the more painful it all becomes. Now all I want is to speed it all up, the breaking away, the embrace of that lovely woman of the void. Things move into me and out of me, and I dont see them. I am blind and I want to see. I want the glory of madness, the drift of vision and voice and sign and sigil. My mind keeps on pulling me back, tying me to known structures. I want loose from them, I want out of my own way. I am an "in-itiate" and I want to get OUT.

Slowly consumed by a living breathing book, a space, a churning, a gateway. I want to become the gateway, that emkptiness. i want to be filled. I want to give up all that is left and slay myself onto teh tree of eternity, the cross of my flesh. I want to cross over to the other side, to leap as a frog between. Between what? Between Nothing. IN spaces between where great things walk unheard. I want the beauty of untold pleasures, i want to overcome my fear, make pain my mistress and teacher.

Like blossom to unfold, like spring rises from frozen waste, so do i want to be reborn, retold. A story of this wreck to bloom into oblivion. I want my own story of demise, my own peice of insanity. no check, push away... read, work, test, check, study, pray, undo.... fear, lust, hunger, greed, pride take me and demolish me. Insanity wrap me, sweet nectar of woman light a fire within me. Secret serpent coiled about the very pattern of life, let me see you! Energy of the Goat enclose me in your purity. I want Nothing anymore. I want NOTHING!

Moving into nature, tree's, rocks, streams... primal atavism, distortion... shadows of pan...sweep me away into scattered forms...

your my best disciple
your my number one guy;
you need to turn me in
'cause i gotta die.

another turn of the wheel of seasons, another spoke gone by. It seems to be slowly picking up speed; picking up momentum. Creating a vortex of energy slowly that will consume us and our purposes. One being, One mind, One pleasure. Pan to the eyes, to the ears, all around pan. I realized the omnipotent potential of self-pleasure; of the ability to slough off the binds abnd restrictions set upon us by society and by others, and to be able to revel and pleasure and feel good about doing so; to feel worthy, to feel empowered, creative, crystalized. I saw into the mouth of fire, into teh heart of the storm, and there i saw myself as a Great Beast, a demon of Light, an all consuming fire; i saw my Self as changing, fluid; I saw worlds of spirits and beings unfold under my watchful eye- spirits of storms and winds, of fire and earth and trees. I saw all there uses, thier potential; I saw a kingdom of many kings, all of whom I (which was we) is. I saw the archetyp eof evil, which corrupts absolutely, but which purifies that which is pure- it controls all forces and powers, guides all visions- encompasses all. I saw a Golden Path laid out, a way of our going by which we may become as gods and by which mankind may be toppled and rebuilt. I saw Kings ruling and slaves serving; i saw rich men poor, abased and shamed and dirty. I saw loved ones split apart by virtue of their competing philosphy of death and life. I saw the world which we know, a dead and grey land, fall away and we all soaring into ectasy, bliss, pleasures untold. I saw above all the myriads of lies into the heart of it all, and there i was consumed.

I saw us rising up, supported by our sheer power and pleasure, in beds carressed by porple woman with flaming hair, and all around us the cries of the ignorant and stupid- cries against our sin, our blasphemy, our unabashed strength and beauty, our revelry and our wantonness; their cry that we can not be so, that it is not allowed, that is is damnation. We laughed at their weakness, at their own folly in thinking that anything right; we let them die, cold an anhungered in their own self-created misery. We gave them oppurtunity, and they denied it. We felt power surge through our veins in our very ekstasis- in great whirlwinds of primal pleasures we raised columns of energy- we shaped them in our images. We took life in our hands and remolded it, shaped it according to Will- we laid out a new humanity and did away with the old.

There, in that vision I stayed, it building in my mind a vast palace of pleasures, and i became drunk on myself, intoxicated by it all- in my own madness i dove and swam. I let go of the rules imposed into me by this grey land with its creed of decay- I let in the light, i let in the divinty, i grasped the heart of teh sun and held tight. In my mind, on my lips was a new Law for a new Race -a new creation to undo the wrong of the Begining- to unite the upright and the averse. We all who were there were aflame with the kisses of Infinity, we were ablaze with this new Life, this new Sexuality, this new becoming. We were all one Thing, no seperateness, no distinction. The god and the Goddess were there to inform us and to aid us; we were at the heart of Magick, in the Secret Fire, and it was inside our minds.

This is my vision, this is what will become in the end. I have no doubts now, I have only to become with those who have chosen this path with me; this path into the Heart of the Storm. I have no more Fear of this. I have only Vision. I have seen......

those corroded years we stained with grief,
who were we to pass the lies?
struggling with mothers hopes,
vain attempts to make us heroes.
shattered peices of those scars,
sacred smoke to hide the rot.
all we did was play at insane
a game, a faceless motion
moving through the same routines
keeping to the same patterns
once again.
( more )

so i have not posted in so long.with good reason. i have not had much to say. everything is confusing as hell, and i feel liek i am being twisted every way.

life is so odd, and very painful. i realzied that the true price of life is Love, and the price of Love is speration. I also realized that in many ways there is truly nothing to rely on, no one. Even the people you want to desperatly to be what you think they are, they arent.

I love very deeply, its true. and that is also my greatest weakness; a weakness that is the greatest blessing, mind you, but it is much liek being crowned with thorns; though king, it brings nothing but pain. especially when trust is broken; and even then, true suffering is always done in silence, because the most courageous souls want least of all to burden other people any more than they are already suffering.

at this point i actually have no idea about how i feel. i feel both elated and downtrodden, both broken and fixed; i feel change, turmoil and calmness. maybe there is delayed reaction here, perhaps denial... i wont say it doesnt bother me, i wont say that t doesnt hurt deep down; but part of me wanted to be hurt, to feel again, to remember a past that i was trying so hard to ignore. How long will the sting last, i wonder. for how long will it linger in the back of my mind as a horrible haunting cinema, knowing it is reality, or at least was... and where to go now? i do not know. i know i love you with all my heart, i know i want to be with you forever... but where is 'me'? where is the "i" to say i love you? who am i to even say anything at all?

so much is broken and fractured, so much is distorted, so much is in the past, faint shadows of what once was; casting light against the present, staining, haunting, pressing onwards. I wish i could say i was completely ok, but i am not.

and i dont know what to do...

there is something about mortality, and also about personality (two things very closely linked) that evoked the most intense, alien feelings in me. It almost seems to bring up an intense reminder of something i have on the tip of my tongue but cant spit out. A nostalgia. Sometimes, i loose myself. And it is great. Then i find myself deep in thought, and interrupt myself to proclaim "oh, there i am! what a lovely place!" and it all goes away. I think it all comes from thinking too much, a rather large problem for air signs in particular, and humans in general. Never enough experiencing, always too much thinking. Thoughts are labels, and almost all of our labels are defined by the external world, and not nearly enough informed by our internal spirits. Gasp! he invoked "spirit" into the equation... lets go farther and say that the best symbols are informed by the soul.... not the soul! that monstrous concept, towering with so much abstract implications of decades of ignorance. Well, to shine line, let us just say that the soul is that which breathes Life into life, and is the intangible thing which even allows such a thing as "meaning" to exist (which, philosophically it can not exist, but for all that matters, meaning is somewhere, even is it is simply all relationship). So where is meaning from? Well, if we connect meaning to the soul, and the soul to breath, we could recall the first whirling’s, the original swastika, which is creation arising from the whirling thunderbolt of zeus, that lovely creator. But more so, we think of the Logos, the Word, which was with God and was God. So we can definitely see a tangible relationship of meaning to the Logos. Establishing the Logos as the Word and the first Root of meaning, we can look to egypt the greece for more answers.... in Egypt, the creator of the Word was Thoth, who in many ways, made even Horus,the divine principle, possible when he gave Isis the ability to procreate with her dead husband, osiris. So we have brought in Thoth, and what do we get from it? Well, Thoth was also the God of Magick, and of Illusions as well (the two are very closely related). So now we have a relationship between language, symbolism, meaning, the logos, and Magick. What is magick we say now? Well, magick is that which empowers belief and meaning, giving way to what we call "ourselves" and "our universe" and the link which makes these two apparently opposing camps actually quite the same (but this is all a subject best suited for a more comprehensive explanation, rather than a disconnected rant with not much point to it). From Thoth we travel to greece, where we will find a similar god under the name Hermes, also known as the Thrice greatest. Besides all the above mentioned, we also have him as one of the patron saints of Alchemy and Hermeticism (and thus linking him to the long tradition of the Gnostics, a subject which is very close to the two former). Yet now, knowing that meaning is hermetically sealed, and is very much a creation of an alchemical process, we also find something else. Hermes was the also the God of Thieves and Liars. Interesting, to say the least. Now we have brought into all this the idea that meaning is perhaps inherantly false, or at least a good Lie. How do we resolve this with our original account of meaning as being the Logos, the Creator, and thus the "epitome" of good, as such? Well, we could look further, if you wish to keep going with all this.....

deep breath

( yes, there is more if you dare continue... )

in our places of retribution
we see only ghosts.
(  down... )

i fall, i fear......

so i am back in toronto for a week. i have been here for 24 hours and my kungs already hurt again. everything is so fast paced. i wish i could be back, painting my new house.... it is lovely. it will be all yellows greens and purples. i have a muave bedroom. i have been working almost non-stop for teh past week, and feel i will continue this trend for at last the ext year, if not for the rest of my life. every day is full of some kind of productivity i can see, i can touch. no unfullfilling abstract desires, no discontinuities. every day i go to sleep feeling i am accomplishing something, a tangibke step towards a real goal. I know where i am going, and it feels great. even if that goal i sonly the next step in front of me. no point in planning much further than that. i have an ideal, dont get me wrong, but i will wrok towards in in a realistic way. no hope, no false promises. only constant work, constant effort. merciless love, after all.

peterborough is lovely. only about one store for everything one needs. a 20 minute walk from downtown, 2 from a plaza. a small quiet street, a gorgeouslly creppy and magickal attic to start to tweek my brain in. a huge garden to practice martial arts, a big living room, a music/entertainment/guest room... i am in heaven... though even heaven has a price. constant hard work, and results. no more slacking around, no more putting things off. this house is all NOW no laters.

i am on my new laptop right now, going to sleep soon to wake up and start my second day of a one week all intensive bookbinding course. it is wonderful, and i feel i will really be able to apply what i learn. I want to publish nice, small, hardcover copies of The Book of the Law so i can hand them out to people, and sell them to others. Also, i want to make writing books to sell and make money. have to sew my robes soon, once things settle down. I have a month to "relax" (ie do my own thing) before school (submitting myself to someone elses thing).

though i have been doing little reading, i feel myself progressing so much more actually doing rather than planning. It is wonderful. I am more relaxed, more comfortable with myself. many of my "problems" arte just fading, seeming to only have been illusions i made up to keep myself down and lazy. it feels good.

we have then net by now back at our new house, so i will be updating again infrequently. it was odd being so disconnected with the whole world. one persons cellphone in the house, no TV, internet or newspaper....


i feel like a new person, growig to a whole new level of me. next time any of you see me, i hope there will be a notd improvement. if nothing else, i got a cool new hat which i LOVE.

i could tell more stories, but i will not. i will save some of them for another time. and others may be left untold. as it aught to be. many things are best left unsaid.
hope you are all well.

what is it I am to do?
......
le sigh.

dissasociation.
no idea.
not sure what i am supposed to be doing here.
oh well.
gotta pass through the fire.
no more.
pain and pleasure mixed in freedom.
nothing.
say it all again, wont you?
why not.
its all changing with every breath.
so fast.
the split, divided through and through.
pushing.
if only someone could hear the cry of the vulture.
if only.
if only someone might see the falcons sight.
if only.
but no, not yet. there is seperation.
distant.
and only finding and emptiness across this gulf.
falling.
cant understand, there is no way;
no path.
so it all comes again,
falling.
night embrace, that cold barren providence.
becomes.

"there is division hither homeward; there is a word not known."

the voices to the winds of change,
echoing softly down;
rose petals scattered
soft velvet for feet to tread.
down to the waters edge,
pale relfections cast across abysses
glow bugs twinkle in the frenzy of pan.
and i, amidst these branches of twilight,
i sink down into this heart,
into the wonton barren life around me
i sink down into these trees
amidst those places of desolation.
my love is here,
dear love....
dear love....
and i walk again to the sound
baleful trunpets lick clean my wounds,
and circles fall past this worn path,
driving me to the wildnesses edge.
and there, to see,
ah to see.
Being encompassed again
in thralls of pale comparison
reaching out unto its counterpart,
like to many lovers crying for union
blindfolded and lovely,
manifold in their limbs
pressing noses to beehives,
and sucking in the sweet honey.
nectar.
"dear lady, why have i come?"
"to learn the dissonance of His harmonies,
to find His wayside cast beyond the hearth,
to hear the vibrations of his harp,
to hear the echos of his flute.
Dear chaos enwraps you and feeds you."
"But what of yourself?"
"I am th eglades transcience,
its waterfalls and cracking twigs,
the breezes through its trees,
the fog rolling off its waters,
the dew upon its spiders webs.
I am the ephemeral life,
trapped in ecstasy unto my Lord,
forever entwined between
the gloriour dances of energy
and the chains of flesh.
For me, there is not eternity,
but rather fleeting images,
each as unreal as the next.
and in all is my beauty residing,
relfecting and refractng.
in every wind swept cliff,
in the beat of every wing
in the call of every bird,
in the dance of life entire i am.
I am the executor of His Law."

And i carry on between and back again,
as his rain shorns by body
leaving me cool and placid and calm.
leaving me empty again,
so wonderfully empty.

I can never return to the habitations of men.
a wild one i have become.
a child of chaos,
a deslate and forsaken wanderer
amidst the glorious heaven of wilderness.
forget me not, oh lord,
for i am ever thy child!

so i got into Trent, i found out.
i am going in to a double major of psychology and philosophy, most likely. or perhaps justy psychology, with a minor in philosophy.
anyways, it is good. i am excited for systematic learning and such, and intense discipline and rigorous thinking. a little scientific method under the belt never hurts.

and on another note, i had the weirdest dream last night. i remembered swimming around under some water, and i grabbed onto some long thin fish.eel thing, about a foot long, thati thought was dead. i was trying to turn it around to look at it when it started to force my hand in another direction. i lost my grip on it, and i saw its front which consisted of all these tiny teeth and suction cups just before it attatched itself to my neck. ity was the most horrible feeling, like pincers grabing you and tearing a small hole in your flesh. This, of course, woke me up suddenly, and that spot on my neck was aching for like 20 minutes. it was so strange and really makes me wonder about the link between dreams and physiology.

www.project89.org

believe.

and a single breath fogs over
the town in front of me.
truth wiped from stubborn eyes,
they see nothing but their own demise.
tapping it presses in closer,
like so many monuments falling,
and it all makes me wonder...
these images of sand,
like castles in my mind i built
or perhaps it was
someone else
and it srikes me that
i dont know
anything
how could I?
it occurs to me that
anywhere I am,
cant possibly be me here.
that was the bigggest lie
of all the one they told me.
the truth of these sentiments
strikes me hard,
they leave me cold and
breathless.
and i check my watch
but time stopped long ago.
i could call,
but i would only hear
) ) ) e c h o e s ( ( (
gripping around me,
neferaiously multitudinous
and suprisingly paranoid
in their insight into me.
i am bouncing off walls,
i am singing to dead mens eyes
i am crying to a mirror
because i have no reflection.
where did I go?
or moor
importantly
was I
ever
here?

ascending
think
might
One
would be nice
but i only seem to find dissent
the higher i go,
because there is no
ME to ascend
and i realize it slowly wisps away
escapes my
M out H
coiling in breezes
to tenuous for my shadows to catch
and they whisper
but the words fall back down
hitting the unmanifest
without a thud
.
dear diary
i am gone
this is not meant for you.
if only there could be meaning
to the strings of hypnotics that weave
all around me now.
but i cant escape it any more
W O R D S
W O R D S
W O R D S
W O R D S
W O R D S
have become my jail
truth the door which keeps it firmly seperated.
"it isnt going to help now"
they tell me.
they always say things like that.
mocking the humour
of a noone trying to be something.
but i am gone.
or going.
or never was.
and these words
are all the things
i never left behind.

it couldnt be any more
because it never was.
its all in the same place,
all at the same time,
NOW
is death.
NOW is all i have.
and I am nothing
and now is nowhere.
now-here.
what once calmed
now dissolves,
what once cured
now only kills.
what once was freedom
is only my bondage.

did it releive?
no.

IT IS COMING