Hiya. Hope this
is reaching you in good spirits. I robbed this opening line from John Siddique,
the poet. He always writes that he hopes his readers are well. I met him once
at a Liverpool speaking event, I was on a panel with him. He’s the deepest poet
in circulation for me. He’s all about spirit and awareness, I like his style. Sorry
to steal from you, John, but it had to be taken. Try to feel complimented, if
at all possible. I don’t take much from other writers. But I really do hope
that my White Voider is well. I’m quite well myself, although no pool yet today
(you should have seen the long doubled black I got yesterday afternoon). I’ve just
been to an AA meeting. One man said that he was having an argument with his
neighbour; he was thinking about dragging him out of his home and burning him
alive in front of his kids. He also prayed that he developed warts on his
penis. Charming, huh?
Wild astral
last night. I have a recurring dream about a gigantic school I’m always roving
around in. It’s huge. On the bottom floor my favourite teacher who I had a crush
on was taking a class on Telepathy. It was magnificently phenomenal to see her
again, it’s been twenty five years. I walked in and asked if I could join her. She
was writing and smiling with a young child. Next there was this band playing
and it all changed, you know how dreams are. But this school…there are so many
floors and so many rooms. So many magical people behind its walls. What does it
mean? I dream about half a dozen dreams every single night without fail. I look
forward so much to going to bed. It’s the best part of the day. “Hypnagogic” means
falling asleep and “hypnopompic” means waking up. These are my favourite states
of consciousness. My thought patterns inside these sorcerous, lucid times are
so much different than usual, they’re elevated and enhanced somehow. Faster. Better.
Foreign. Alien.
I believe my
parasites have something to do with it. I’m drawn to wondering about their
brain rhythms. Do they even have brains? I haven’t researched them because I’m
too scaredy-pants-terror-stricken to find out how frightful they really are. But
I imagine that they do because I’ve seen their mind’s eye in my mind’s eye, so
they definitely have consciousness. Before you ask what that was like I’d have
to say that it’s hard to describe. I couldn’t make out what I was looking at. Maybe
some kind of architecture or scenario, I dunno, I’m not sure. But their
consciousness absolutely interacts with mine, right on the money, or right on
the nose if you prefer, with that one. Think of the superhero Venom and you’re
halfway there. It’s what you call a symbiotic relationship. We’re in league, we’re
hand in glove, we’re synergetic. They feed on my blood, my blood is in their
brain, their blood is in my brain, that’s just the way it is. I’ve had them for
over four years now and this adopted mentality has taken a lot of time getting
used to.
Have you
seen the movie Prometheus? You may or may not be familiar with those massive
naked muscular human-esque beings who look like giants from the Book of Enoch. Well,
these beings figure largely in my psychosis. They go under the term of Archon. David
Icke talks about them in his conspiracy lectures. Basically, they are an
inter-dimensional alien race who feed on human energy. It’s great to see one,
or one to that effect, filmed, in action, fighting other aliens, in Prometheus.
Spectacularly sublime there, Ridley. They figure in my dreams largely too. One
was going to eat me the other night and in my desperation I claimed to be
Spiderman (you know, someone important). The next night I watched Spiderman. I mentioned
that Spiderman has the Holy Spirit inside him. The most evident I saw the
comicality of the Holy Spirit in Homecoming
(2017), was when Michael Keaton busted someone’s head against the side of a
car. I’m sorry, but fake violence in movies tickles me. I lolled (laughed out
loud) a couple of times. Hollywood violence, for laughs, has nothing on
Bollywood however. And Bollywood violence has nothing on Coronation Street
violence. Have you seen the fights in Coronation Street? They’re few and far
between but when they happen I believe it’s a gift from the Holy Spirit. They are
like SO funny. Eastenders is exactly
the same. And don’t get me started on Buck Rogers. LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL!!!
Not much
more to say really today, apart from the fact that I’ve had an idea for this
Christmas poem I’ve promised Fiona. I found the Christmas Spirit when I woke up
this morning and I thought of Abbie opening gifts beneath a tree, so that’s
where the poem is going to start. It’ll end with me having a tipple and Abbie
having a Babycham in the evening. There’s no reason for you to know, but Abbie
is an imaginary friend/ghost/angel who I perceive all the time. I believe she is
the most powerful little girl in the known universe, and she has been sent from
God to assist me through my tribulations. Despite the obvious horrors, like
demons in the Seventh Circle, my psychosis has beautiful positive upsides. That’s
it for now. Ta’ra x
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