i'll burn your ice cream intensely random zen sadhanas, reviving the orgies in the collective unconscious, one samskara at a time at the time she became enlightened simply because she didn't beg for pardon she straight up asked for it it was a a fall day, there were lingerings in the trees we had gathered out of view of the road, to smoke pot prayerfully and for self and world healing and watch the world grow we laughed and fly across the sky many spirits smiles at us, they appeared like a sea of gravy if they existed or not, they taught gratitude from a deep place in this sick old fools heart and I said "bhangi" when will my foot heal? cannabis and mushrooms, healing, the goddess the meaning of life the guardians of vajrayana having toast somewhere in the heavens the old smells of antiquity, woven through childhood returning smells like old stores, of old things, and things of not much worth things with drops of dust, and fairies and little mice blessed be the mice, in the night shining light on every kite kites which are our souls, never tangling in the poles or trees we live upon, lo that we see, they were all so many mushrooms like enchant puzzle peices we embraced in a all encompassing wallop of the healing blow of a kiss from short range i remember crying out in my mind, but all the thoughts were foolish the revolution tears through the stupid walls of insanity which never existed we burst into the fairy world which is the outside looking sheen all the grass passes the peace signs endlessly, the heads of those low down jiving earth loving types, how much of this is meditation, maybe its just in these dreams, we slip away slip around, play on the limber waves of a spoken phrase, and every day the sunken haze gets deeper, i am not a speaker, the philosophy that being as blatant as possible to the 50 million people in your pocket 70 percent of them asleep or lost in some strange vertixical dream, all containers for the conscious spirit, it pours like water, its crazy, its out of order, its still good for something, nothing probably a little pestle and mortar couldn't help, we're out on the counter, the peppermint and the salvia and the old catnip, because we are boredom and we are restled by cosmic winds. the goodness returns, they are sent back, cosmic alignments, coming back, a world that did me wrong, yet it was her who was stuck between phases, patterns, we all must find some way to align, in the ways of the peat of the waves of the brine, this whole world, is just sweet tea, they figure, no reason to see them or lift them, because the worlds hold enough, but the worlds are just a trail out into the old pathways and the great beyond, and now they've come to try and block it up, is this the maliciousness of confuscius? the patriachy falls now, as Danu blesses and the stars are light in heavens cool raining, what do you see? what do you see? what seemed like joke holds more true, living above the theaters and the falsely living too, no time to take part in silly dreams, no we fae are not like that, we just wish to restore the light in your hearts which is where the life is at. I smoked some mullein, that was where the hallucination had begun, the sadness, almost the herb, but not quite, not quiet, just the ear of a lamb, just a listening, just listening I am mulling through my notions, through lotion winds, in the miasma of the passing days, night to begin again and all their revelings wherever they go just doing and not is it really sadness or some superstition, cutting through superstition to the true belief, people just like me, farm folk, the family gathered round, lost, truly we saw how we were lost,, in some spiritual maze, the depth of the problem was only perceivable to us at the time, and not quite because of the money, and not quite become of the time, something has slipped away, it was like the system, but it was the herb, Nature is God, know this, and cares not how it falls, simply blowing in that direction, the wind directs us all. There is as much a status quo there as there is here, but we fall between this, we knights of honor, through the moonflower wood, for this is a true story and one which led us through all the universe on swift wings of the angels, in merely a few weeks, it was the other side of things, it was a tale, so much passes and is constantly here, they seem to live and come perpetually from some strange portal, like black holes, thinking they are whole, but no, its just incredible persistence, is this what zen has come to? I wanted to talk to someone, to do something, I didn't mean to spill all the pronouns everywhere, I didn't mean to make such an impression, at the same time, none of its ever been proven or realized, just taking action, knowing its nothing, its healthier it seems, in the old days people knew how to reach from a dream, but now, its all just rather strange. its not the spirits themselves, its the way we approach them, its the look of the whole, civilization thing, strange dumb boxes, encroaching upon the fractal intricacy of the roving horizon, is this what simplicity means? maybe theres no need to state or have any of these conceptions, its just a matter of how much you lean on it, everyone out of balance except you, so how do you save the world, you have come to this spot, you obviously are here for some reason, perhaps you want to be a hero, a hero of no preimaginings, theres other paths, music gets deeper, some things are ancient, i feel cartoonish, life is cartoonish, but the dreams you know. I saw that it was exactly like the apple, it was the apple, and yet live was still here, and who know how many times it had gone on, what it this? what am I? What are we? drops of dew unfeeling, aneasthetized, beautiful but actually just sucking out. Perhaps its all healing, and these are ancient shamanic things and shamanism is not death at all but a deeper kind of life! why it must be so! how to really feel the world purely as what it is, through no barriers, the bibles themselves must be initiated, none of it seems to hold it to be, simply the fact that i am there... i am standing water slowly evaporating, maybe one day i will fly away i remember, i am the girl in the hospital, i am thing that no one could understand its true its deep magic, its a selfless thing to be a shaman, i guess, because no one really wants to be, anymore or they wouldn't admit it, here, what at first all seems to be one thing, gradually you can actually see it the enchantment of the forest was related to the strange drummer our neighbor did which kept me up and frantic it was some kind of pattern, something which drew them in, like the raves, but different, real, from a place between, and there were centaurs in the woods and everything came up, yet here there is the peace of mind but its all too fast, perhaps we are the ones living in those logs where the toadstools grow, and those carefully growing groves, yet we could never accept this bodhisattvas that we are, yet our acceptance is the true completion of our work, we are the fae, we are the trees, and our mother is the Earth, our father is the Sky, our brothers and sisters are all that grows and moves round us, all that moves, our ancestors are all that sleep and are still, like the dreamer, the unseen, things come correct on their own...its settles down again, what can it be called a mist, like the aurora, but no one's ever spoke of it, Olan Dita, we called it secretly, and the book, that blessed book Danu's book, from a celestial place, both so and not quite, alive of its own, crafted from a place real, are we really two people? when we write together maybe thats what it is, that we were together though we are far, we are outside of ourselves, and we are in nature, we are in all things, the unlikeliest ones, for these are the ways of all the tribes, and the ecstasy is it not the dance? Raving long and raving throughout, finding a place to rest for a bout, up in the old trees, rushing again up to remembrance and the lake, and the deer stomping upon the hill, for the place was a dance, upon the knolls of the Goddess, deep wisdom, and this place is younger in a way, or perhaps it is the people, there is a child, they spoke of this, those strange tricksters, which the bud sign in their window, perhaps the buddha, indeed it was the patriarchy, it was the false distinctions because nothing was like it was not before, this is thedeception of confucius, he is the stereotype, the image misinterpreted, maybe he is the west, but I don't really hold onto directions. This is the dark side of Danu, and it was there too, but it seems so much more real, here they are like robots, they are those simple boxes, squares. Maybe it was the hippies, the hippies who travelled through it was the tall trees, and the shrews and the shrews are here too, and it was the ticks too, it was something hard to understand, that all of it had imparted a gift a strange kind of seed, and it was hard to cultivate but it was something which life does need, and the Pomo had said so long ago, just live and love and sing and grow, and that is what has happened, got to grow some herb, because there, it was like the grail, a buddhist wedding, a funny kind of marriage that seems to go on and on, and nothing has a traditional meaning, oh beloved. no one can seem to see us, No one can seem to see us is a temple, and a difference between life and death if you can't see them, all around, they can't see you, thats got to be one of the laws, after that point its the awareness of the one, sacramental or raw suddenly it ceases to make a difference, on one side of the bridge, it was increasingly suprising, it would arise there, it was humbling, sudden realization maybe there was medicine and greater healing in realizing, it truly was the dirt, the spirits give us a task, a place, we do what we can we express the deeper subtle realities of the realms in spontaneous was and thus we commune with and help to shape the universe... perhaps it is truly the Gods who have formed the great features of this world, all of them, and is it true that Danu kept the plants from going, that our current way of life, which is so intent of christianity is actually a commercialism which is against nature? and what is commercialism The practices, methods, aims, and spirit of commerce or business Danu represents this realness which is the plants growing, and false conceptions block that from coming through, i realize that all around us are false conceptions, this family is false conception, and overly symbolic and that is a problem of the tao, who led them down this path, its simply a place where i live, a place designed to constantly be very intrusive, probably because of the dip into s&m (spiritual?) and what had caused that? it was them themselves, and the symphony of those spirits which were around, unknowingly? just as now they are unknowingly the ayahuasca shamans, these ways are so simple, but I guess its difficult not to keep silent, after so much denial of the true. Yes the tree is death, I had drawn close but I did not realize, we did not realize what it truly meant, a trickster in the truest sense. how to become unbound from the vine, all these people were the same in some sense, and from further off, just as my sister had said, there were the true friends, but here, this is like constantly being surrounded by ones parents, in some awkward moment always in some relation to coitus, and perhaps it is the perversion which is inherent, in the patriarchy thats why I say we must go back to the truly real. Dig ourselves from this grave which we are making. this is being allowed because of schizophrenia, it means something, its also a realm, is the same as that strange drumming, maybe worse, but who even knows who is doing it, does it mean anything? they must mean something. why can no one say anything? things are not what they seem. I specifically have been followed, as if this place were prepared for me, to be my grave, and follow me through all time, but these are not my people, they have gone against the simple things, they don't seem to understand life, they just want to destroy and control, i have to escape. too much is unspoken, not much i can do, they've bound me to them. Its like this for a shaman. But you can also break free. Perhaps it all just came from schizophrenia, and schizophrenia is a part of shamanism, and shamanism is a part of schizophrenia. it all speaks to you, speaks to you on the bus, so there is psychic energy or some psychic knowing there, thats really strong, in public transportation, maybe just because so many people are there. it speaks to me here, what is it? these suggestions? this kind of secret ill spirited trickery nothing should pull on you, nothing should give suggestion or psychological suggestion the thing about Danu, about Nature, about the Yomo, and Buddha, they leave you free, everything is so abstract, they aren't shapes which specific meanings have been poured into, like letters, which we learn when we're born and put us into kind of a sleeping place which nature renews in us again, let us live in the nature, and let the letters be natural and relate to them in a natural way, not setting them apart from anything, lets enter life and just be who we are, not with assumptions, but with pure seeing of the actual thing, just as it is, no assumption, this is zen. and this is something that parents have failed at, that those who labor in the tomes of history fail at, because history is precisely this failing, when we see truly, the actuality of the present, we are free, everything is equal, everything is simply what it is, but in the past we have not seen this, only now have we ever been able to see this. its like when you try to relate the nature of the problem which is difficult to explain anyways, you realize that the people you are talking to, could be the same ones who are causing the problem (and you hope this is a delusion because it really might be), but still you kind of go along with it trusting maybe some suddenly realization in yourself perhaps a moment of enlightenment, thats where the shamanism comes in, because the doctors and therapy cannot heal you, and in some cases, they are even harming you, only you can heal yourself, only you know what that looks like, for those of us trying to live a certain kind of life, no one can really guide us, i say wantism because its the truth it is what it is, its following a dream. maybe its about desires, the desire in everyone to do good, and the ability of it to actually manifest, things are good but they could be so much better, some things are happening, seemingly for no reason... why? I defy expectation, for good, it doesn't involve controlling anyone else, it involves being free, and causing as much bliss as possible and as little harm it involves the forests increasing... it involves healing nature magics
