Friday, November 04, 2011

in darling harbour, at the edge of the world, in big complex labyrinth i found myself walking solo into hell wind and aggressive rain, a reckless wanderer, dressed in black with red om shield for protection, he came seeking refuge and shelter from the storm of swords and world wind of elemental fury. drenched and waterlogged i moved along following my nose, entry through the plush gates of the city corporate into the exhibition halls, past vacant chambers where nothing but space lurks, all this wasted volume i thought, just waiting for content. i shambled like a wounded solider, weaponless and defenceless save for universal vibration, shell shocked and shaken, behind enemy lines and then i find a trickle of people entering a doorway and i wander in drawn by the flow, attempting to blend, a doorman looks at me kindly and lets me pass, payment reduced to gratitude elevated by default. 
and verily captain mission walks amongst the mind, the body and the spirit. greeted by strangers who recognise him he is offered a feast as vegan delights are brought out by elegant women, berries and vitamin drinks, elaborate chocolates and health supplements, yoga, aura cleansing, crystals and angels, physics and psychics, channelled intelligences and animal right activists, it's all here, friendly faces, things i understand, people i know.
my archangel raphael channelling friend asks me to mind her stall, she has had no customers all morning, i sell some books, candles and a few packs of incense, i dry out in this little cubicle watching the shadow people pass me by, an endless parade of quick fix people with the occasional bright star.
i see wendy the witch, i'm so happy to see her, a beacon of light in my otherwise strangely darkened world, she is indeed a bright star. she knows the score, she's been filled in on my circumstances by the aether net, she says in her wise old mischievous way that i have to listen. she tells me to forgive myself for allowing this to happen to me and she's right. i do have to forgive myself, i made a mistake, everyone warned me and i trusted that things would be different. there's nothing wrong in that. i didn't do anything wrong. i forgive myself for getting into this mess. it feels good to be lighter. 
i move onwards and meet mishka, she's admiring a ouija board made from marble. she looks soft and smells good, she and i engage in a long conversation while coveting that which we cannot have. these ouija boards are fantastically made but very expensive, way beyond my price range, besides i have a radio i made that can tune in to the dead, a ouija board is for groups of teenagers and neophytes, i wander off finding myself chatting to a yogananda man. he's a rocker with a philosophical bent and offers me a gift. a book he seems to think is better than 'autobiography of a yogi' so i humbly accept and verily trade a cd with him. moving onwards i come to happy highs where i engage straight away with mr. happy high a wonderfully sincere man whom i instantly connect with and his most beautiful assistant whom my base charkra wants to connect with while simultaneously my crown smacks me across the face hard for thinking such thoughts in a spiritual context but what the hell i think, it's a sexy universe. so we cat about vine medicines, and we exchange south american herbal hearts i'm told will rock my world for a snuff music cde which i hope rocks their world and would be fair to say has a large amount of south american vine spirit in it. a most equilibrium bringing experience. i honour both these souls and move along to my next point of call the infamous vibrating machine. 
a few years ago i considered buying one, they have very good healthy beneficial properties and can be fun when used creatively but i have no room for it, so this time i jump on and set the controls for the heart of the sun, the vibration rattles my bones, my organs and internal structure begins to dissolve and after ten minutes i come apart. every atom strewn across the room, most of me ends up in someones acia berry drink and i'm sucked through a straw into a very nice man from india who claims to have been a descendant of prince arjuna. 

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