masturbate daily.

a gentle explosion, though, a soft introspective one which feeds and nourishes, accomplishes in the quiet, longs and does and waits for a fever so that when it comes I can be all that I want, not making the fever happen !NOW!, exactly when I say, exactly how I want! No. I can't falsely reproduce an extactic moment. So I choose the glide, the subterranean currents, the seed.

I think a gift has been given to each of us. I believe that these next ten years will be whatever we envision them to be.This is not to ssay that there wont be obstacles to that fear or goal,but that the more clear we are with good intentions, the more we can directly manifest. The oppurtunity is here -- can you encouragingly kick yourself in the ass enough?

raising energy, winding thought with spirit, working the two together with breath and making it intention, loving every moment of life, hollering at the sun when it peeks over the horizon, laughing, calling everyone you meet for a week 'spirit guide,' loving deeply, dancing, worshipping and being worshipped, whipping ten flames in front of thousands of people, holding a NO WAR! sign up for three minutes with a mighty fist raised and my legs howard roarke-style and platformed in front of more thousands of people, feeling freedom and possibility, starting something I have always dreamed of having, getting things done, feeling the naked body move, singing to the pine trees and their spirits, thinking about moving to costa rica, being satisfied with fasting, learning not to take anything personally, kundalini rising while working, waiting for the fox, dreaming of happy people and the thing I want to create, being happy, laughing out loud, belly dancing in the car,

kiss the flame again

again and again and again.....

It must be said that the cunnilingus orgasm is every woman's greatest fantasy.

how is your fire burning?

lovely how dizzy gillespie was a mood

enter love and truly abound
within the ever-fragrant sound
of feet turning naked and open
I enter love and speak the spoken.

How is it now with vague delights
misty with the feel of flight
lovely with the sight of laughs
stirred by faeries' mischief staffs.

happy is the tribe that flows
knowing worth real knower's knows
greatness fires up and glowes
for all who open up for so

come ready yourself for raging wilde
come unto others as little childes
for the kinddom is ever at the moment's call
you spirit is running And standing tall.

enter unto the gates and see
there is a bit of setting free
going on and on
and on
and on and on and on.

Precipice.

There is a moment which makes me lose,
and looking in the precipice
I see that which mirrors, congrues
the loss of present circumstance.

Either by choice or by cruel fate,
my feet choose not to cross the gap
but wither into small decay
and put up with this fucking crap.

so should I wait for the floor to crumble
or hope that patience makes it strong?
should I run for nearest shelter
even though it may feel wrong?

The one pluck on my heart string plays
and whets my face like rainsheet sways
when I think that it might be
illusion known to all but me.

Precipice beckoning there again
and so I look, and strength begins
and call upon my brightest friends
to remind me where the suffering ends.

I am especially thankful to inhaesio, thalia, and seraphina, for showing me what unconditional love can be. I wish there were more people like you in the world.

I have been studying lately, diligently, daily, both in preoccupied and direct manners. I am getting over a block, a hump, a stagnation like flegm in the throat, the kind with blood in it and thick yellow nasty, the seed of all the other flegm, all of which you desperately want to get rid of, get it out, exodus of the bile.... so if you're just tuning in or if you have been waiting for me to write for EVER, then you might witness me breaking the wall down. Understand that I'm just a normal person, just like you. I have never written a novel before. Fuck, even my short stories are never finished, and I have written ONE since high school, one which sucked so badly but carried with it an essence of meaning and hope and desperately trying to make the emotion pour into word molds.
Well, now I am passionate again, and I have a message that is beyond worldly matters. So right now, I will list a few of my fav authors....

I WAS going to list a few, but I realized that I don't like anyone anymore, not anyone commercially at least. I like myself, my own writing style. I did a fiction fast for so many years to get in touch with myself and I have not found a book in the bookstore that I couldn't put down. This is sad.
This said, I am going to scour for more inspiration now.