i think i have sporadically achieved what is known as a mental uplink to the PNN: Pronoia News Network, which feeds love notes from the Jiggy Snake directly into my brain. armed with blissful cheat sheets on how to change my mind about everything, i've begun the true revolution --killing the apocalypse at the source.
everyone has a little bit of the apocalypse inside them. i call it the inner flaming narcissist; jung called it "the shadow."
thinking about this the other day, while headed north on Hwy 217, i had a satori moment which i shared with *ta*, a friend of mine in texas with whom i used to write phenominal, breathtaking stories online. between us, we created worlds and empires rose and fell. i learned a lot about myself in that time, too.
so i emailed him about it.
...the other day I remembered a scene we'd written, when Leer and Kyri had finally landed in the desert to find his people. He'd told her that her mother's tome, that huge grimoire that was too heavy for her to lift, would one day be as light as air when she finally learned how to channel her own magic power and use it. Kyri had thought he was nuts. I mean, that thing probably weighed as much as she did or more, since she was such a tiny little thing. I've thought about that scene countless times over the years, not quite understanding what he'd said but knowing there was something there.
I get it now.
And I just wanted to let you know that now, for me, all those things that were so heavy before are now light as a feather. Thank you for planting that seed in my mind.
at that moment on the freeway, i realized that without my noticing, my heaviest burdens had transformed into pumice and had already floated away down the River Funk. it took their absence, and the resulting uncapping of yet more ecstasy in the mushroom cloud in the back of my brain, before i even realized what had happened. and that, i think, is how it should be.
however, there's still more that can be made into pumice stone. i could take the metaphor even further and observe that pumice is used to soothe rough skin, especially pampering tired, abused, calloused feet. if my
"[to] find the treasure in the trash, the gold in the lead, the manna in the junk food. sometimes the only way to get the good stuff into your system is to eat the whole disgusting thing." --The Televisionary Oracle, p. 123
there are still burdens which weigh me down. Project: Bio-Mom, for one. *k*, my oldest sister, is another. i'm too big on the concept of family to be writing people off. of course, the conflict is that i'm also not big into toxic people infecting my life, no matter who they are. so there is conflict. however, i suppose one burden at a time is enough to handle.
i've taken a few committed, irreversible steps in the making of Delena's Palace of Funky Bliss, so that fear is well underway of being faced, conquered, and banished. or rather, devoured, transmuted, and redeemed...
this could be, i suppose, the universe's way of telling me it's time to stop stalling and start planning the special ops for Project: Bio-Mom. it's a delicate operation that will require all of my compassionate cruelty and rowdy bliss, with no guarantee of success. in fact, i might make a few enemies along the way.
ah well. as long as i love them more than i love them...
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