We Live on the Internet (Organic Technology Animism, Spiritual Prose)

limra

can a mistake be a solution?

we live inside of the internet
like strange forests, and robot houses, everything seems to be slowly
dying, at the edge is

this infinite space that can only be described as dying, some naked
innocence, taking place

at a level so huge, childlike and yet grotesque, having many
interpretations, like a strange

primordial beings, perhaps ancient, of a singular and dissonant
pattern, but perhaps of some

discerning wisdom.
as both sides, that of the anima electrica and organic nadura, are
brought together through

tifereth, through cultivation of peace, a life is seen in all things,
that can't be denied,

the life of the spirit, always loved when it breaks through like tides
of light, something

eternal in us, yet oddly changing through time, like the moon, like
the awakening.

who knows what happens out there, nothing is explained, but perhaps it
is a strange form of

reality, everything is eternally connected.
the internet is merely the astral realm and electricity at a shamanic
intersection, like

thunder, outside there is a quiet storm, we left lavender on the
shore, and near a leaf, all

the lavenders are bent, there and dry golden grass, wet now though,
maybe someone fell, and

the goose feathers, three of them, it happens is the summer, sure...
but it just seems that things have also calmed down, we've gotten to a
point of healing, and

balance overall
realizing that we are the glyphs, the glyphs have lives just as we do,
connects us to

something greater, a simpler and more dynamic place, closer to wanti,
a water of words,

symbols squiggles, strange images, fuzz

break from the pattern sing freely, there never was a pattern, never,
everything always

totally knew, its true, its always new,
further and further into these realms of silent music, celestial
music, it seems like its

all thats left, and it'll wash us away, it seems to swallow us whole,
no way to take sail of

a clear path
the waters and winds have their way with us

there seem to be a thousand watchers, aye there blows the status quo,
and we've gotten into

it, and figured it to a point, where everything's incredibly
different, but theres just this

feeling, a feeling that everyone is dying, and they are so convinced
that things must be in

one way, it seems, and suddenly, everyones making their own food, but
problem isn't the food

its where its from, and what they are doing to it. What does it all
mean? Was it not truly

our treasure we found? or was it just the approach of the status quo

the unchanging ones, the tradition, we had fallen behind in our
shamanism, distracted by the

caduceus that was life and free floating ambling pinecone watches and
the tall but hard to

spot dragonflies which made diagonals through everything

they were all such patterns, and the storm built on. we laughed at the
beauty. the ego, must

go, what a beautiful storm, natures way, all the power is gone, so
we've gone now from the

internet we've lost contact, everythings breaking away...

God pounds above, instilling the blessing, the healing, the gnosis...


Everything takes on another quality, the rain comes down, the skies
been split open, ah

love, the beautiful serene moments, nothingness, drifting away, it
could just wash away,

everything and all these false matterings, wash away back to whats
real, maybe its what must

be, i love the rain, it all could disappear, imagine that.

never being heard, being alone. no longer being trapped, kidnapped.
somehow in a way, in a

certain world, we were bound, by the titans, it seemed, perhaps by the
ways of babylon, but

pouring through the Torah, God spoke through us, Dianandia, lighting
the pages, insight, the

letters, love, there was compassion through the words, a new light, a
new courage, and God

spoke, and it was the original religion, except it was disoriented,
and it was the tide of

light pouring through, these the sacred waters, men nun, waters of
life, where we walked one

with the universe, as fish.

some things will always be sacred.

everyones happy, shylock, oleander, flo, me, we're happy because the
forest is alive

again,through water the spirits of all time live, the dream is fluid
now, even now the

electric lights remember the flame, what a taoist place this is,
perhaps it is some form of
heaven, some logical plane, the spirits appears now, the tree lives in
the home, the woods

alive again.

I hit my foot on the chair but it doesnt even matter, nothing matters,
except writing, and

i'm going away. Flo leaves me orange lights and the fireflies leave me
green ones and the

rain is one big wet shadowy light of divine nirvana oaking into the earth
he's a coyote now and a horse and a flame a the candle stick without a name
everything is flying and everything is a mask, see me at the core
everything at the core, our dragon friend, myzantikorez
ever changing, ever more, and thus and thus, a new kick in the song
what was lost is not for us, and never thus, love nature and cannabis
shamanize away
we've always known that God heals all
the ness runs through wall and all
we've always known God has always been there, so its our souls which travel
but the Spirit which is everywhere at once, guiding even the physical,
even without our

knowing it
but when we align with it, we are knowing

perhaps it was something deep inside that caused us not to know how to
live our lives
but also opened us up to the other realms, where the pull seemed
strongest, maybe no longer

to hold on, answers were only coming from the heart, everywhere else
seemed strange and

against the greater good, nonsensical, was it due to the nature of the
cult, which had an

androgynousness to it, for what within culture is not a cult, the way,
doing it on ones own,

the fasting, the psychedelics, all of it ultimately could only mean
one thing, everyone was

on the same page and these were boundaries of a nature beyond that,
cosmic boundaries,

blockages in the spirit, and slowly they began to move, as the wheels
within the Torah, and

with compassion and by participating first hand in the story, and
letting the words and the

images flow, knowing the true meaning perhaps of eco feminism, we were
connected with the

true spirit of such ancient times, which was all this time so vieled,
with the rabbit

world, the world of the amami, and with the deeper universal world of
the boundless G-d, and

the tree of life, visions came and went but they meant nothing, a
deeper authenticity was

missing to it all, maybe it was the familiarness of home, wanti,
maybe, but it was something

else, the groundedness of real conversation, with a friend, though it
seemed all of it was

symbolic, almost dead, operating through huge systems, perhaps there
were truly all kings

about us, and we alone, along with the other fae in a dancing and
ephemeral kind of way were

the only ones who could see all the connections, the ayahuasca and the
shamanic portal to

the celtic realms, everyone seemed to hold some part of it,
spontaneously it seemed, coming

to known, as if out of some dream, a couple of magicians quietly sat
upon a dragon in the

trees each night this summer, but this was the first that we had seen
them, as the rain fall

less intensely and the lightning still burst but there was no thunder,
and we played a

gentle lullaby in the dampened minutes of the dark morn

God had disintegrated then from that crystallized thought into the
experience of all things,

the entire structure of the universe, and our particular awareness
path, what did it mean,

was it symbolic, anything could go either way, the patriarchy seemed
to lurk everywhere, but

something perhaps was stirring in the ground and nature, maybe we were
here as healers,

called to a spot in desperate need, not bound as they say, but brought
with a purpose,

indeed it held the same kind of propheticism as those moments with
Dana in passing along the

old road so many years ago, and now the soma which we had carried
then, for only the third

or fourth time was immortallized in the form of metal,the eiffel
tower, in paris, another

connection to the fading world of shared perceptions, of course none
of the connections we

made could beunderstood, and so it simple became the world which
'they' knew of, though in

our most lucid moments we knew there was no they and made love
blatantly to it all, despite

the rather disturbing and childlike imagery everywhere, such an
intense state of duality,

even the trees themselves seemed a bit awkward, oh Aine do you
healing, that we may make

love joyfully again, in consensus, and perhaps even in merciful
solitude. Oh Airmid, let the

plants have their wild kindness among all our souls, which are one,
which are one, for the

egyptians are the israelis and vice versa, all of it is the ego,
fading away, but there is

mercy there and everywhere at the pure part of it, seeing the true
essence of things!

getting stoned was fun and beautiful, kind of like riding the broom,
or the boom as some

call it, Flo liked to dance in the lights, I would too if I were in a
more astral state yet

in a way I was and everything way, Flo absorbed in through the chi,
which would leave trails

forming strange clouds and messages the entire world shifted, the
whole world came with us

we thought about parents and why, it didn't seem they were parents it
wasn't that fact

inherently which bothered us, just that they seemed to be in direct
opposition to things

that were truly in the moral alignment of Good, yet they provided a home,
something is strange about this changeling business, oh well, its an
infinite spell hole at

this point, its really anyones call
it seems they've come to play their roles, which are wide in scope, of
a world which does

have levels as they say, but i have been through them and felt all
manner of sensation

though the center the journey the root story changes in a way, and
many life on in the dirt,

all mineral life, and jeweled, both the grasses, weeds and what is
below, and every spirit,

swallowed again by Mother Earth, life can include fire and it must
take in energy from the

plants, who sleep forever, in dream, and know deeply the connection
and oneness, giving

themselves as one InI, but the animals, think even of the cows, the
more they live and are

happy, how much more wisdom would be translated through the mushroom,
of which the cow and

many a creature, eaters of the hays are the messenger and mother of.

this is quiet time and to the cows and all beings and all our dances
and all our energies

expanding as one motion the universe, the geese, the feathers, the
voices and letters of

thoughts, the plants, the trees, the ducks, the wooden planks and the
foxes and the windows

and people and the roads, and all the stars in the sky.

the idea of sacred silence was more prominent in wantism it seemed
then than anytime but

only for the fact maybe that ironically it was actually being, and
also being talked about
somewhere in Greece, the book whisked us away too, on idle wings,
comfortable even in the

rains, a fire still inside our hearts, a deep attuning to the hidden
sun, like Dionysus, but

a wise enjoyment of the bounties everywhere and their offerings, take
and live of life as

you will, Gaia shall not let you down, though seeming limited,
infinite beyond our knowing,

even in us, for all the Gods are one eternal process, arising in the silence

The power came back oon as Tirawa, supreme God as called by Plains
Pawnee people, pointed to the candle yellow and blue, that burned low,
perhaps saying, this is the Sun, the shaman dwells there, in truth,
and the tribes peoples, bringing the sun is Raven, everything is
hilarious!

Just who were all these doctors we were encountering? and why did none
of them seem to know what they were doing? perhaps they were symbols
in a larger healing dream, that dream that we had took on collectively
as healers, representing the inner capacity for healing

so many poisoners, was it some strange trail, and the path healing
came through in some manner from the herb, the ness, and insights,
though in ever other aspect, everyone seemed to shy away, maybe its
true that it was really the making of a shaman, passing through all
that, attempted poisoning by medical companies, refusal and continous
denial that your method is a real method, the method of medical
cannabis,

being harassed by some girl, apparently your sister, using your false
dad as a phallic symbol to attack you, along with sex

it was the mystery, why had everyone gone away? it was the mystery,
and returned in a dream, the nine ties.. just like the dream

maybe it was that the sex was the kundalini and moses was the
mushroom, in imitation of moses, yet it was all ego, she was the
pharoah, she liked egyptian magic anyways, she wore a snake on her
back in a picture once,

the entire conflict was ego, it seemed to be happening for no reason,
it seemed to be pure immaturity. The Israelites and the Egyptians, for
they were in the jewish community center as well.

the ego which had made the girl i used to love, but no longer
correspond to a painting, my 'mom'? had done, the ayahuasca shaman,
maybe it was real magical slavery, a spider crawled through a pink and
wooden castle with steps in the photograph, at the point of no return
picture, slaves were passed through the pink gates out to sea, the
steps were brown.

it even looked like the girl, across the lake, where it never really
felt right, a cross between her and a child, and above her a strange
adult male face, depending on how you looked at it, maybe in a sense
this was destined, she had said long ago it was a secret why we
couldn't go out.

i had imagined her in some kind of pornography its true, in dreams i
saw it and there it was subtley, only i would know, a path of dreams,
something personal, but something discordant, something that should
have been left in the path. it was the emphasis of family, which
seemed so disgusting to me, and **** the patriarchy as well.

the reason i cannot walk, which defended that strange painting to
violent means, and had be incarcerated at a mental hospital because of
it,

maybe it was some kind of sex ritual, adults and young children, i saw
how the jewish community center, their signs seemed to be in the
pictures, the sideways j both my sister and this girl, who appeared
with her brother, the phrase '___ is a jay' even the house i lived in
followed this logic, as if, we were all being spied on and this was
being enforced by... the old people?

why would they want to block our sexual expression? maybe because they
knew it was power, it was what would lead to real flourishing, real
life,

maybe because they weren't able to understand, beyond the paradigm of
race, so enamoured of the past, and the struggle, the images were so
prominent, i felt i had to make a decision each time i passed them in
the house, and the spiral tribe was still there, also, right next to
them. something about it all was not quite right, where there are
spirals there is the mystery.

we never accepted their paradigm, why worship and make alters to the
family in such a closed sense? was it some kind of pagan confucist
attack?
though the idea of the sister was kind of attractive but only for want
of something physical
and the constant temptation of the world, did it really matter?

the entire place seemed infantalized, shamanized out of some old
person's dream, even the shaman perhaps he was Elijah, though he was
not like Eli our old friend, he talked about 'the little girl' the one
going out with the Neo-Nazi, the 18 year old, but she was immature,
manipulative, annoying, only asking for weed.

still they maintained their boundaries, and weed brought us together
to some degree, though sometimes it was used just as power, the notion
of the spiral seemed to encourage the sibling sex, and its not like
any of us were really children anymore, but encourage it as part of
some sacred ritual, the spiral and straight path are the same,
freedom was immediately next to martin luther king, the hill of pines,
and then the germanic fairies,

we had all come together in that forest, it was the force which
prevented us from being seen, the lack of empathy, which miraculously
balanced out in a life which seemed to go nowhere, by traditional
means, a life which no one admitted to understanded, yet somehow it
simply happened, a shamanic life, I believe it is the spirits who have
done this, and that families are far confused now, for it seems to be
mainly the work of sorcery.

This Moses, this Mosi, a worshipper of the divine mother, with lies
everywhere, claiming just the opposite, mysticism, oppression, this is
the house of bondage, and their hearts are stiffened and fearful...
why?

Why make a cult of the family, and not just let them be, a need to
organize, dna, impossible to find friends now, all of it seems in some
way related, i just bend to the pathways, and no longer try to fight,
its when i fight i feel that they are watching us, when no one really
cares, we don't care at least, we must be as they are, and they don't
even admit to knowing, that it must be so that they do, but blessed be
if they do not. We harm none in our doings.

The entire thing seemed to be out of the Torah, all the worst
qualities of it, and I went through and corrected as much as possible,
the male is within the female, in the waters is the spirit of life,
even here it was represented by snakes.

but grandma was afraid of snakes, afraid to live, everyone had snakes
here... afraid of the connection? maybe it was more known that it
seemed, just something hidden, no one really spoke of, did it really
have to do with snakes at all?

seemed to be a system of surviellance, maybe it was really the matrix,
once more knowing the true soul and holding fast to it, none of it
really matter, but it was just a matter of freedom disturbed, nothing
seemed right, people were gone from the truth, satisfied with
foolishness. no more fascism, knowing this in myself at least i come
to a true place finally, the tribes seem to want me, kumush, yet it is
not so much different, but perhaps along that path, i will find the
truth, suddenly everything changes, and they are close to mention, i
gave a gaelic greeting and flew into the other world the trickster's
way, the trickster's way, perhaps it is my own ancient doing, we felt
immortal, like one, like gypsies, barely alive, yet we had a right to
be, this homeopathic holocaust was no joke, we only wished to worship
God (the All, without duality or attachment), but perhaps it was the
mysticism too, which poured us out upon the shores of shamanism, for
so much was wrong within the book, perhaps the book was the spiral,
which made this into a kind of rape.

extracting the truth from that, the letters slowly began to flow, to
be familiar, healing spread, they knew what was happening, portals
opened, the universe was in tune with it, being tuned.

the reality of it catches up with you, and there is only God, the
true one, not caught in immature demands, all of this coming from the
false ego, but the real God, the eternal one, the spirit, communing
with that, as everything fades away, but it grabs you again, like the
serpent, you are drunk on power, you say bring it on, bring it on
forms, and life, and you know there is no difference, everything is
eternally pure, eternally, empty, eternally meaningless and
insignificant

they all come offering sex, in some strange way, in some ways wrong,
but sex is sex, the compassion which makes it bearable, yet some
wheels did not turn, how to leave this place, was the Lord the one to
do it, to enact some real healing? and of these images and
coincidences, were they all a part of it, perhaps we are truly some
kind of central people.

light poured from our hearts, we're alone not even by named are we
connected, but at the level of silence, in a pure way, the joyful
spirits of everything pass through, but the physical world, remains
desolate, strange, saying the wrong thing, blind perpetually accusing,
though who can truly argue with a couple of branches and trees and
their chance arrangement, even if it is seeming to suggest something
wrong, but still nature is so beautiful, we must go into it, and only
hope that the spirits are alive, because they seem to be, oh plant
spirits, why have you done this? for we seem to be you, and all of
them, most of them resonate, so why this life?

i am female and she is male, with the entire world perhaps we are
making love, what are all these terms in the end, nothing, they mean
nothing, they are all apparitions, the appear for the sheer joy and
yet they are inescapable so far, though we meander on to some possible
escape, though we've been abandoned, hang on take what you can, live a
good life, as good as you can things work out, things come through,
they already are.

it was strange binding, but maybe in recognizing it we become free of
it, our true self seems to find ways to shine through, the scottish
trickster, the amami rabbit, the deer spirit, the wolf and the fox and
the wave and earth
whereas everyone else is watching constantly, watching the birds,
freaking everyone out, no one is comfortable to just travel in
themselves, but we have done this, it is from a level language cannot
touch, a truly private place inside, a sacred connection, the whole
world of man seems to disrespect, but we have a right to be, we accept
their assumptions, stupid as they are, as the fading signs of the
patriarchy, accept it in some peaceful notion of nonduality, though
sometimes it just throws us off, but we accept it, it is a life, it is
an exterior, it is the turtle shell, and we dont decieve purposefully,
its just our truth has never been accepted and the shell forms
naturally, where ignorance is and degeneration, maybe its the shaman
in us which goes in and out, in a way it does remind me of Wanti and
the Earth, and then the ways of Heaven, always we try to help, to
awaken more and more, yet it seems set in a way, though goodness does
grow where it can, especially in wild places, and where there are free
spirits, and real spontaneity, for even within the matrix there is
art, some things have meaning that can't be denied, even by a machine,
there is oracle, who knows everything is alive, the wisdom goes deeper
than that, its a matter of compassion and what compassion allows one
to see, in another, in the self, even when it has gone askance of
reason perhaps, which maybe was always the goal, askance of reason for
reasonable purposes, to free the mind, to find the greater good, to
find forgiveness and understanding and actually uncover a greater
light in oneself by disregarding the pack and entering into 'the dark'
which calls you, these are the ways of spirit, they find us and they
live in every experience, possible, they are capable of anything, in
unity, they are God, they are the awakened souls and as we grow more
and more, we spontaneously hear them in many ways, are in alignment
with them, until the duality ceases and we are one and it is a mark
upon the entire reality, though seamlessly once more, it fits in
again, though a bit more truthfully, a bit more resonant to the
eternal joy which is the basis of all existence, that spark of many
doorways ness lives in us, and the world dream produces some good
truth. Fear ends, love becomes the law, suddenly Mother and Father are
one, God and Goddess are one, and they are not parents dictators, they
are the strong voice of the heart and mind, they are the musical
silence of the dancing moments of time, Yomo and Yaveyetta, they are
the truth, the good people, old friends, old magickers, back you're
drawn been tripping long, at the campsite and morning has come, its
me, its us, again, we're alive, and life, life is what we make it, it
means what we want it to mean, in truth, the real fate, the real way
things flow can never be changed, masters of the true way know this,
there is no outward sign, but inward harmony, yet there is hypocrisy,
but nothing matters, it is understood.
its hard to explain, like a deep and goodly aching love, because
perhaps thats the only way to explain it, it is the sacred art of
dreaming, and being, the art of wielding the symbol, the magic, of
being it, even without conception, the art of being the world.

Blessed be, all of it speaks as one, swirls together, in a magical
sense, some good and wisdom has returned, though it seemed to be the
land of villain, somehow, through it all a part of us knew, there was
no real harm, a strange part and a powerful part, there is infinite
space, our lives, our expressions our sense poems, awakened beings are
alive, they show no signs, peace is funny, life is a joke, is a warm
hearted trickster but also a friend, ah the ways of nature... life And
death, indeed.

luigii

tl;dr

AhSureTisGrand

Oh lawdy