Last night I happened upon a tear in the fabric of consciousness. The seams in my normal raggedy andy ragdoll head are usually well-sown, but last night a few became undone and allowed an influx of otherness. Though it was probably lost to me, I imagine there might have also been a leaking outflux to the universe of my own shadowy threshold ragdoll intimations which would probably otherwise have come to constitute a Xanga blog! Oh well, all’s a tradeoff in the balance of energies and nothing’s ever really lost.

I was prepared to totally indulge in the psychic trepanning thus visited upon me, but it seems that a secret seamstress pulled my rag-thread seams back tight but a little further into the night. And with that nurturing I fell asleep. Damn that nurturing! But something tells me that it was a reflex to conserve sanity and stop my shadowy threshold ragdoll bleeding. Damn that sanity!

There are doors of perception to other worlds. Worlds yet strange and un-unified with our “own.” And I seek their opening. Much as the microscope prior to its invention was the unknown key to an unknown world that there before, except by some mystical visionaries, was considered pure chimera and fantasy, so too, do I believe, that we are on the threshold to finding new doors to unseen worlds providing new discovery.

For there is always new discovery, in this, our Golden Eternity.

Lucidities

I'm up again.  I may not sleep the rest of the night.  When I last laid down, I found myself crying, not in fear, but over what was in sight, that is, my mind's sight.

I was filled with memories--none of my own.  Lucid, colorful memories--this was someone's life.  There was a group of Irish school kids by a brook.  They were all dressed in white, but wearing green berets..and walking, walking after school.

And a man at some distance was walking directly towards me.  Fading in and out of tree shadows and direct sunlight.  And his clothes kept changing--seemingly modernizing--beginning in the style of the early 1800's and growing closer in time.

And many more memories appearing as flashes of faces. And still other memories so energetic that they were shooting like out-of-control bottle rockets right at my threshold of consciousness.

And then I saw her.  A teenage girl, blonde hair, dressed in an orange blouse and orange shorts, arms and legs outstretched and trying to fly or pounce away from the second story of that house, but being pulled back to it and sucked in.

I'm up to this...I'm going to lie down now.  And wait.

That Breeze is Blowing Again

I was working (prep and painting) alone in a house last evening where the owner will be gone all week and I've been entrusted with the premises.

The strangest thing happened.  While scraping the wall in the bedroom, I felt the house "breath" and "fill itself" with paranormal entities.  Well--that was my impression anyway!

My reaction?  Though I never speak to myself, I said out loud: "Now I am at home."  And was immediately somewhat surprised by what I said since it was not my home nor did I intend to make it so!

Now at home, just ten minutes ago, I went to lie down to rest but not sleep.  After closing my eyes, I was immediately barraged by vision upon vision upon vision of souls, creatures, beings, some in human form, some in mobile plant form, and others just in a presence or pressure form.  They seem to be there.  But also near.  This is rather interesting.  That breeze is blowing again.  I'm going to go lay back down for awhile now and see if a storm is a'blowing in.