Thursday, August 14, 2014

The Phoenix with amnesia




Chapter One ~


From the time that I opened my eyes in the morning to the time I could finally close them, I thought of death. I invited it from every corner and routine of my existence. 'Kill yourself' would repeat in my head for days on end. Only with the blessing of children was I able to find distraction. And when I lost my children because of my sins the stresses in life would always lead me to the thoughts of disconnecting from this reality.  I used weed and alcohol and food to limp me through a loveless 11.5 year relationship that brought three amazing children in to this fucked up world. Three loving and incredibly rare souls. For the last 6 years of that relationship I used pain killers for legitimate back pain. And as most know, they only work so long. She started taking my pills after years of casual popping. I knew about that, I allowed her too. Accommodated it. These are my sins. I just didn't know that she was taking so much in the end. And at the end of us, she got clean. And so did I. This may have been the ultimate catalyst in my first serious attempt to go and kill myself. I had my son living with me and the build up to my choice to end my life had me dropping my son off at his grandmothers without warning to her prior. I didn't even knock on the door. I told him to go in and wake her up. And I drove away. I left my cell phone at home and headed west towards the mountains. Looking for THE lease road that would take me just far enough off the main road. I would find a tall tree. Cut the branches off the west side of that tree. Cut all the branches off the one side up about 10 feet. So I could hang myself facing the sun coming down over the mountains. Didn't want anyone to find me. Didn't want help. As luck would have it; it was quite a busy day for oil workers and logging trucks. It was proving difficult to find a road to pull off on that wasn't in use. But I kept driving west. This gave me time to think. One trigger was seeing a skulldigger from elementary school. Which made me think more about this decision. How come he is so happy. And working. I should be able. And I finally came to decide that I should try and get real expert help for the first time in my life. So I went to a town close by. A town which accommodated to all plethora of social situations. I knew Olds, AB had mental health resources. After a quick chat with a councilor, he decided I needed to see a GP at the hospital. This Doctor wrote me up a certificate placing me in the mental hospital. The same mental hospital we made fun of growing up in Alberta. I went by ambulance and right away started talking to someone who gave a shit. She was a paramedic. She asked very good questions. And when I got to the mental hospital I went through more questions and tests. Blood tests and more bloodwork. I think they thought I was dirty or fucked on dope. Which I wasn't. I have never been more pure of body. Off dope. Off Opiates. Of my natural fucking rocker.

 Right away I made friends with my room mate. And people were drawn to me. Probably cause I had a smile on most of the time. That classic hippy grin. I felt safe and in the bin. Three square meals a day, swimming, art and counseling. I really started to get it. Started to believe I could manage this depression. And as the days passed, and the talks got calmer, I knew I was healing. This was the first few days in the Looney bin. But like the sudden change of winds that brought in Poppins, she came into the AWOL ward the same. Carrie Poppins, a classy and sexy slim beautiful dark haired fair skinned young lady she is. She looked so out of place. Like seeing an angel punching the time clock in hell. I didn't even think she was approachable. My kind ain't welcome in that realm of purity.

 One morning soon after she came in I was sitting in the common area by the front desk at this wacky hotel. People would read and talk and play cards there. I played one of the guitars they had available there. We could only play the guitars in front of the main desk. Didn't want anyone getting a hold of them strings. Anyways, I was messing around playing six strings and still feeling the zombie pull of the Seroquel then she came and sat in the chair in front of me. Like a cool fresh breeze off a blue oceany day. I had one of those moments like in the films. Everything around her got fuzzy and she was in ultra high definition. Her hair caught some of the sun and I could see occasional specs of gold reflect directly into my heart. And our eyes met and my lungs exhaled deeply. Her hazelnut eyes were like I have never seen. Like supernova. Not just brown eyes. Not keeping it simple. Not Van Morrison's brown eyed girl. She was the phoenix herself. In transition. In front of me in all her divine glory and infinite splendor. Her skin was like fresh untouched snow. And her lips and her and and and and and and.... So much in such a short moment. I asked her if she played. I handed her the guitar and she played free falling by Tom Petty. Her voice is what I imagine a bee hears when the queen speaks. She could tell me to do anything with that voice. Anything, that is, except to stop my affection for her. As the next few days went by we were in a ritual of sorts. Usually after supper a swim. Then we would play guitar together in the hallway. That is when she opened up to me about her illnesses and life. She cried and I hugged her. I felt her left arm above the elbow. I felt her skin. I was honored beyond euphoria to comfort gods blood. All the thoughts I had about ending my life were replaced with uncontrollable and pleasurable thoughts of her. Non sexual. Pure love and affection. Totally new to me. I felt for the first time I was really in love. But it was one sided. She liked me. She liked my words. And appreciated my talents for art. So I wrote her a love letter and told her not to read until I checked out of the hospital. A love letter. And a poem. And a song.

On my last day I was so anxious to leave. I didn't want to. I didn't want to leave the illusion. I didn't want to leave her. But they made me go and I went. Thinking I would never hear from her again, I moved back in with my mother in Calgary. But then she texted me. Asking me for my address so she could send me a CD of her music. It started slow but eventually we were texting all day every day. Then I went to visit her at her home. I even napped in her spare bed. Nothing happened we just made pizza and watched movies. Couldn't have been happier in the friend zone. She is worth more then anything I could think of doing at that time, besides seeing my children. But I kept telling her how in love I was with her. She said I can't say such things to a married woman. And that was yesterday. So will I hear from her again ? So far yes. YES yes yes. I will protect her whenever she calls. I will help her save herself. I will save her.



Friday, August 17, 2012

Product of your Magic.

We're here to fly off the tracks on this whole thing called...
Magic has been a part of my vocabulary ever since my grandmother highlighted it as "Satan's work...Not to be dabbled with in any shape or form." She said she would be 'cross' with me otherwise.
She said that allot. 'Something' would make her cross with me. Sunday nights in the 80's had the CBC television station entrancing millions of Canadian children and adults all the wiser, with the 'imagineering' of Disney. A truly enchanted visit into the highly rendered folk stories of our time. I remember the almost euphoric awe brought on by the blue Disney splash screen. The angelic sounds rebounding off my eardrums forcing me to shut up and pay attention. One Disney artist from the early days was 'D'on 'B'luth(42). He connected with me through such cartoons as Robin Hood and The Rescuers. Don Bluth also made video game Dragon's lair. A 'C'ult 'C'lassic(33)indeed. Basically he is a cleaver marketeer. Modern day Magicians use subliminal techniques and rely on consensus perceptions to get the inside job done.
"The Rescuers is a 1977 American animated film produced by Walt Disney Productions and first released on June 22, 1977 by Buena Vista Distribution. The 23rd film in the Walt Disney Animated Classics series, the film is about the Rescue Aid Society, an international mouse organization headquartered in New York and shadowing the United Nations, dedicated to helping abduction victims around the world at large. Two of these mice, jittery janitor Bernard (Bob Newhart) and his co-agent, the elegant Miss Bianca (Eva Gabor), set out to rescue Penny (Michelle Stacy), an orphan girl being held prisoner in the Devil's Bayou by treasure huntress Madame Medusa (Geraldine Page)." Anyone who has read my words knows that 1977 is an slight obsession for me. Although most of my energy these days about '1977' goes towards ranting my poor wife's ears off about such things as alien contact and hidden technology. Regardless we're here to fly off the tracks on this whole thing anyways. Luckily I can tell you a story using facts from my life. Thoughts and dreams I hold fast to memory. Superstitious synchronicity and drug inspired mental ninjutsu collide.
From what I can see, Magic is a before and after binary system of maze walking. The magician practices visualizing things he wants done. He has a motivation towards a certain intent. But he should only act in the aether. In the void. In the dream time. Through imagination. Symbolism attaches to intent much like the arms on a typewriter attach to their code. A magician loops the symbols in ways that manipulate reality into his will. Once you see the abstract maze like structure of our brains you realize oddly enough that the brain physically takes on the abstract but symmetrical split of maze patterned grey matter. For me and my psychosis I see~hear~feel~smell~taste certain 'cues'. A superstitious disposition incubated by some of my relatives and now, also built on a half ass understanding of synchronicity and occult things. I haven't even read any Yung yet. So distracted. I'm a clumsy fence walking wizard. But I can say for certain that ritual magic works. For instance. One night, A short while ago, I made up a lottery sigil and posted about it on Christopher Hunter Myers facebook page. I was not being totally respectful towards my intent. It was playful magic at the time. I was almost mocking it. The next day I found a bunch of rolled change we lost during packing for the move. Just enough change was found to make us a bit more comfortable in terms of personal consumables. I can give you one very recent and successful incantation I meditated on and thus executed. It involved a certain person at work who recently started to 'bu77y' me with mocking taunts. I mean, my disposition has people thinking I'm weak and vulnerable. Some people can't help but see a target. This isn't good cause I keep my life as pure as I can. Most of the time. I feel I'm a good father and lover. I feel I'm a good provider(lies) and an honorable person at heart(true) for the most part. So when people fuck with me, I throw out my intent via mental insult. Can't help it. I curse them. Passive aggressive extremus. And I believe I have a demon familiar tending my magical(passive aggressive) whims. My habits keep me bound to be antisocial. Figure it out. At least cartograph my experience in to bits I can process? Cause god damn if that S-O-B was fired the very next day. His name was also Jon. And he was big. And he listened to heavy metal music and he was a welder. I say good riddance for once in my life. I carried a cross long enough for the guilt of that prick. This very same building where I work now I worked in back from 2001 - 2003 for another company. The building carries allot of karmic ghosts I think. Treatment I didn't deserve and cruelty expressed behind my back is a stain I feel there. Yes I'm fucking weird. I'm a freak. But you don't know my honor. And fuck you if you jump to conclusions. People must want negativity. And I'm guilty as charged as being negative. My mental extent at age 18-19? During this time of my working career I actually started to visualize many of the people there as Don Bluth characters. But sadly that part of my 'magic' is gone and in line. Now I just participate in a casual skullduggery. Mental migitry. Mickey mouse ego control. I can handle it cause I'm a skilled worker and at least I can concentrate on the job at hand. I enjoy my job these days. It in itself is a magical ritual I'll get into another time. Although I've experienced focused intent to the point where I feel its legitimate, I do not spend to much time casting spells of thought. Too lazy or distracted? But god dammit it when you are truly scared, do you not ask for god? Who ever is there HELP!
alien contact and hidden technology. Northern Mars polar structure. Credit ~internetz~
God damn it if I don't miss the magic of my own ancient imagination. When nostalgia visits, I spend good time with it. Remembering how pure I felt as a child. Remembering the good and bad. Anyways... Perhaps a fragmented shard of a moon tower. Built out of moon dust. Charged with solar radiation. A tower between our 2 worlds. This was the tower of babel. Our collective attempt at stacking wooden alphabet blocks as a group. When you realize that "once upon a time in a Galaxy that is home, exists a fractal wave of consciousness. Technology is fractal in discovery. Tesla probably had knowledge of these things . Start with one question. Ask yourself. Do you think we are supposed to live underwater? Imagine the birthing process underwater. Imagine the babies floating sill attached to their mothers. A tower. Coming up for air when needed. Where is air? Mothers face.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The Cube is gleaming

"NOAA satellites traced the bright flash of X-ray light to an area on the sun's surface known as region 1402 — the same area that had produced a weaker flare Thursday. A coronal mass ejection — which can hurl billions of tons of plasma up to 5 million mph — quickly followed."



Long time no C. How are your ears people? How do you feel? How does this reality make you feel? Do you feel like a leave, a big leave, on a slow decent to the chipper? Where begins the feast or famine by global magnitude solar storm crisis? Did we have the insurance of trinity suns in our solar system once upon a time? After all, gods have been known to represent stars.

{{The cube shines forward information in huge packets in this year of the dragon 2012.}}


Our connection is...............upgrading. More flow of information. Good things to come for those with true grit.


Aurora Borealis at Tromvik Norway from Helge Mortensen on Vimeo.




Enter the Dragon of this year of our lord. The keyper of the secret knowledge. All information comes from the sun. And so does all art.