Rotate the Eye of Tarote

Tarot.
I love the cards. I am the cards.
My romance with them is as old and as young as my relationship with existence.

What sifted to the bottom upon my last visitation to these Sages:

"The Cosmic Law changes itself continually throughout the initiative of its parts."

"For pure will, unassuaged of purpose, delivered from the lust of result, is in every way perfect."

Your Demon is necessary but can destroy your entire personality.

And, finally, come to know the deep purpose of romantic love: "the power that wants to guide us beyond ourselves to the divine experience."

Find me, I'll guide you along the river of your own reading.

Courage is the childlike base for power and wisdom.

Above: The Hierophant from the Voyager Deck.

We are Love.

Brilliant Codes and the Notes d'Change

There is a code, and I can feel it, intuit it.

There is a code to this existence within me and without me.

The past couple sun ups moon downs...my heart has soared and plummeted. And my brain has discovered pain as it tries to craft moments from emotions.

Time and space as a conception-of-the-socialized-human is limiting. I feel that. I feel that time and space are not static measures with which we can then place ourselves in... to a safe little box, dimensionalized and institutionalized. It's not that easy. It's easier.

I am still toying with my theory for existence (and am enjoying this toying). But what I have insofar embraced is the notion of constant motion

                                     constant change. 

How can change be constant? Is it not therefore static? Aha, paradoxes! I love them because they appear to contradict, just like me. (And you).

I do feel constant revolutions happening in every plucked-up, frozen sense-image (def: the creation of my perception through the senses of the physical, emotional, spiritual). I feel change even in the greatness stillness...wow, especially in the greatness stillness!

And it is not always cool calm and collected
for a piscean dreamer like me, A poet so sorrowful in her bliss.
I feel revolutions happening within revolutions within revolutions
and evolutions and devolutions all over...not just in my own compacted relentless river.

And the change can sometimes and always come as a harrowing hurricane
infused into a waterfall
lashing upon the straining barrel of mine ego. 

 This dimensionalized time we call a "week" has been more of a trip for me. A watery abyss I've whirled up and then interchangeably dived and drowned in.

The element of water in most esoteric knowledge pools and world cultural traditions pertains to the emotions.

I've recently been dreaming many things watery. I've been building up emotions for these very moment of the late Now, the Now, and the near future Now.

I have been bringing forth from my darkest underwater caves some  certain muddied waters.
I have been forced to look at the emotions I desire most to dream away into oblivion.

But again...it isn't just time * space.

So here I go, back to both vivid and vague memories of past lovers, friends, events.

And does it hurt. It's like giving birth I suppose, although I haven't done that in quite awhile.

Because it has much less to do with them as it does with My
                     bound up wound up core of writhing snakes I call my orb, my aura, my energy. 

I feel the pain in my proximal energy allocation... I feel it because it has been mine from the beginning, from the very first time I felt what I would later call by a four letter word, or by one of  twelve letters: excruciating.

And your pain has been yours. And I can never feel it. [I can feel my pain as you feel yours. We can feel pain together. But as of now that's my belief on sensation. They are localized to the individual.]

Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.

Joseph Campbell

. . .It's so interesting how the I find myself in deep conversation with the Universe. . .

 pretty much ever since my slowly rebirth into WakeState (I could talk lengthily about this but I'll simply [aha] equate it to my rebirth into consciousness).

And its so interesting how the Universe places
 people and events before your eyes to Wake You Up Further. 

To get you into equilibrium with all that is within you and without you. To get you back into constant change.

See, we as humans hold on to certain thoughts, when, really, our thoughts must always be in a revolutionary motion.

Oh, my mental chains. Your mental chains. Self-defeating thoughts. They alienate us from our True Self and alienate us from Other True Selves too.

I feel the mental chains like bloody fingers climbing a mountain of burning ice;  I do not stop climbing, but I am hurt in a lazily insidious manner.

 And I am fervent. I am an angry little peregrine falcon or a disgruntled (yet still joyful) bird that hums. I wish to release myself, I wish to be free.

Although the pain is hard...the path to unlocking the static belief-prisons within you is not as hard as one might think...

the Universe shows the way. It does so and it is absolutely downright hilarious. And I mean that in all seriousness.

IF you are looking for freedom, the Universe shows the Way. (And sometimes, if you are karmically endowed, even when you are Not looking).

I have examples right now in the dimensionalized existence of Now called "this week" , where the existence around me, the Universe as I call it, has been HILARIOUSLY upfront with me.

[I should state that for this flow of thoughts to make sense one has to disregard the possibility of coincidence within one's existence.]

See, I am very good at creating for myself  severe disillusionment.  Even in a most notorious mental stupor can I wrap myself up in infinitesimal reptilian thought-codes that leave me unable to move, or incapable of stopping (to breathe). Yeah.

But the Universe can place people and events in my life so that I HAVE TO STOP THINKING and merely
                                                 do. 

See, my ego could convince me to stay unhappily up in the static prison of my brain, for a lovely eternity. For even if I am unhappy at least I am saved from the pain of a downtrodden ego. Note sarcasm. 

But the Universe does not function in the static behavior of permanent-made thought reptiles.
It, as I mentioned, likes to work in Change. Constant change. [So, in a strange way that hurts my head to think about, it IS Static. Static in constant change. Woowee. I'mma leave that parodillic path alone for now.] The Universe is You. And it Will Change, and It Will Change You.

So here we go. I find myself crying before I type this. Because I meet someone I am attracted to and the pain of all lovers past and present hits me like several layers of several pains from different trains on multidimensional tracks. 

I feel blindsided... I find myself in a philosophy class wanting to rip myself out of my seat, hunt the innocent being down, and  kiss her and obliterate her at the same time.

Quite the mind-fuck. But I know I am not alone in this experience. I've scrutinized enough to intuit that.

And upon the confession of a bird that yearns to fly free, I find the small beginnings of a grand liberation in a typed and mostly unread confession. 

I am so excited to loosen and then burn
with fiery wings
the ropes I've strung with my mind
over space and time.

And I am beyond-words

thankful

for the Universe as my (sassy and hilarious)
guide.


It is no great wonder that I have always loved the symbol of the Phoenix.
Oh does it burn so good.


Goodnight, I'm exhausted from the fires of life.
See you in the morning.


LOVE
M .A. R


   

Hazy BeforeAfters

Bullet in the Brain- Tobias Wolff (1996)

Read it, it's...brief and timeless.

I've been thinking a lot, per usual. And feeling a lot too. The feeling part is less accessible to me and therefore slightly unnerving. . . .The joy hits me like a bullet to the brain.

It is, feelings of joy, bliss,
that wrap knuckles 'round my spine and womp me like a willow in the wind.

It's something that the cognitive creature within me cannot formulate to destroy. I can never truly describe the feelings of absolute bliss, or of absolute sorrow. I cannot ever truly understand them...if understanding means the computation of the brain into ideas made of words.

For at the end of the day, these words are but lies.

And that is okay by me. Because I feel...and in a way I feel a separation there, a space there

where feelings have room to breathe, unfettered by the chains that words and thoughts compose.


That is why we fall in love
or fall in hate
or sleep at night or relieve ourselves
in bodily functions....

and yet these words... they separate what is inextricably linked...

falling in love and defecating are the same thing...yes, conceptually...ah but can it be described in words?

I will try, albeit lazily. And like Wolff, by being brief.

 :   energy transfer. Motion.

Falling in love or defecating is the building of two "distinct" energy sources amongst a matrices of myriad others. Two organisms blending energies to synthesize another third, separated but connected energy.  And then the energy is built upon built upon built upon, until there is a climax (Any other arising parallels yet?) and then the energy must be released, decreases, dissipates. . .

either in the form of a turd
or a falling out of love....


Now, a turd can further be broken down by other organisms and recycled through the planet and used again,

so too can love be recycled...because one does not just fall in love and it remain this static or perpetually transcending line... no it obeys the cyclical nature of time and oscillates between "highs" and "lows" and deaths and rebirths.

What some call "True Love" (an interesting notion to me) is that "third-party synthesized energy" that is correctly formed to navigate each cycle of high and low, death and rebirth, and transcend in an upward spiral trajectory.

[What do I mean by correctly formed? I'm not damn sure, but I know it to happen. Again, it is beyond words. But, well, here: Correct formation... has to do with everything really... the two distinct personalities, the bodies, the souls, the environments, the experiences of lives past and present and future, and, of course, the True Will of each person. Puzzle pieces that do have the capacity to shift shape, of course, warp.]

I do not believe in coincidences, so I therefore take so-called "True Love" to be an energy transfer (in the form of an upward spiral trajectory) that is a necessary creation of two distinct Life Paths, and a necessary creation that is temporally longer than the majority of romantic relationships in one standard human lifetime. 

If that was discernible, then brava to me. It all makes sense in my head//soul.

Energy. Motion. All deducible to vibrations. All of it.

It is simple and yet, as is broadcasted above, possible of unending complexity.

Life.
Love.
Shits.

And the most fascinating part? We have the power to shift our perception. From the most minute details and fancy words

to just feeling bliss when I stare at a tree or any certain youthful soul. 

 
Wow. And from the emptiness comes light
and it is so dark and
it is so bright.
All that we know is quite
but not quite.
It comes as space and time
but not finite.
So just unstrap the belt,
let the hair flow
and
enjoy

enjoy the ride.



LOVE

M .A. R (todos)

  

Feathers and the Ruffled

In my public writings I try to maintain a certain decorum, a certain statuesque composure. Just as the words stream out of me, full of care and control, in this way I do also walk.

I should even more bluntly state that my public "face" is that of saving; I like to maintain my sense of composure. I resort to tall, statuesque and inwardly absorbed when I am most vulnerable. And it works, at least in my mind it does (and that's what counts right?). But I know those other souls tapped into the universal nectar can sense distress no matter how thick the armor... I very well can. 

Composure.

Love and feelings of lust don't quite float when it comes to a maintenance of composure.

I find myself breaking down again and again when these feeling arise... I feel...like a crab on a beach without my shell.

Funny thing is, I can run a lot faster without my shell. And with as much swiftness I so too can die.
Get plucked up by a gull or stamped upon by a beach-struck child.

And that is a scary assortment of choices for a crab.

However, and perhaps this is what makes me human, I am a kamikaze crab. I am aware of the dangers of shellessness and yet shellessness is where I am to go. Where I desire to go.

I am following the feelings of lust. Because I have foolish courage, and because I know in my naivete that I must do what I am most afraid of.

That is, pursuing my desire. 

I mean that in a eros way, and even an agape way. And I don't mean holey, oh wait, I do. Aha! (So very punny. If you got that you get a point! for attending catholic school or any school.)

Desire. I mean, my drawings, paintings, masturbations, and sideways smiles. I also mean the desire in another's eyes... the sudden dread of realizing how clearly you can see yourself in those two soft shards of glass...

                                         down the rabbit hole of love/ fear

I am delightfully terrified. And equally as blessed.

For my intuition guides me Into and Out Of situations.
And I have quite a high bounce-back rate after being devoured by a seagull.

And, ah, thank you me, I have courage.

Courage.

To follow my fear desire fear desire   fearire.

Woo Woo, thank you Link. If I had to choose one angle of the triforce, I'd choose yours.
....Actually no, I choose Zelda's cos wisdom knows of courage. Regardless.



Courage, Patience, Permission.

[Insert allusion to the benefit of meditating upon these three non-actions here.]

I want to love, deeply and romantically... cos its been a windy path up the mountain and I feel it is about Now that I truly connect on a soaring cliff-face;

for too long I've been cloud-hidden,

whereabouts unknown.

Follow your fears and your greatest frustrations... therein lies your peace. 

LOVE.

M .A. R

Loving the Little Person Inside You

I feel as if my intuition is that of the universe's, and I feel that I am unraveling it slowly. What I mean to say is, I feel that I am growing in my capacity to intuit. 

I notion now, instead of feel, that this is because of paradoxical phenomenon I observe. 

Surrender to obtain.

Orange-red sand through your fingers. But in a way that now sleeps the whole desert between your toes. 

The cognition and the ego, creating static in the carpet shuffle of the analytic life. Why? Look up and breathe without thought for awhile; it is from up there that lightning comes.

 

 I am brought to a state of syrup sweet delirium when I watch trees dance in the wind on Hogwarts thee Second Universe-ity. And everywhere, really. The notions are gone, of maniac or of saniac...

it doesn't matter anymore, the labels, the value-judgements. I am more entranced by things that be.

Like birds, dragonflies and the black-and-orange bug that pooped on my thumb in the art quad today.

Things that be. Things that be-come. Todos, all of it. And we are so lucky to be surrounded by and inside and outside of a great teacher, the greatest teacher. . .

The answer belongs to breath and thoughtlessness.

And always, remember, to laugh.

Said defecating bug, Sir Poopy Thorax; A Multicolored Asian Lady Beetle Larva

(so cute!)

I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life. I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish.

— Simone de Beauvoir

There is nothing more tedious, puerile, and inhumane than love; yet it is also beautiful and necessary.

— Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse

Notions of Anti-Notions, what? 

LOVE.
M .A. R

Hylian Fields and A Re-start

Two quotes to start off a new chapter of time, the sands, of which, are not cruel this time...

Green is the color I see, and a dance is happening all the time, the dance of those that be. A tree!

“Gratitude is an attitude that hooks us up to our source of supply. And the more grateful you are, the closer you become to your maker, to the architect of the universe, to the spiritual core of your being.” - Bob Proctor

“I just do not hang around anybody that I don’t want to be with. Period. For me, that’s been a blessing, and I can stay positive. I hang around people who are happy, who are growing, who want to learn, who don’t mind saying sorry or thank you… and are having a fun time.” - John Assaraf

YES. 

Be your own masterpiece, and do not doubt the reasons for your existence.

Leave a trail, if for no other reason than to inspire another.

Love. So much Love.

M .A. R

You could call it Saturcray, or Whatever

Saturday died, it is Sunday.
It's a beautiful thing.
Which we could not have if we have not the ugly.

Funny how that works. And, also, grave.

And with the passage of time I will learn quietude and I will learn slowness,
and in these beings I will have a unparallelled loudness and a mystical swiftness. Only through this change will I find Free.

I met Allen Ginsberg today. He is in a new body, bright and burning sweetness.

I met love too, in eyes and sounds and lights and tree's embrace.

I write a song of a final chapter of a book written long ago. To whom I am addressing you know:

I won't swim the river
for you
above my bones
runs blue

I wont swim the river for you
when there are so few
that know
red turns blue
what bleeds grows back
again
my friend


dont make your river
for two
its you, yours
a brilliant blue

here's a tribute
to your airies
just the fire not the sign
all you see

swims away from me

your rivers not my river
your place not my place
I wont look down the river
down the river floats your face

dont make your river
for two
its you, yours
a brilliant blue

dont believe your river
a desert
i see the current
blue and unfettered


how can you know
if you've never got in
that theres an unending depth
it's just stretched thin

dont make your river
for two
its you, yours
a brilliant blue x2



 Love, Infinite,

M .A. R