2:48 a.m. 1/20/17

These people worship her as the moon, they themselves, being her light. I worship her as you and then again back to me- you lunge like a shark at the blood in the water-striking deep at nightwounds that only I can see. I used to be alive in that world you thought was ours, In that world where it mattered if we sank. A blue eyed holy mother who chases her tail, whipping the void as she thrashes. I can’t swim, I can only float, face down in the soma, dripping wet with me. As dead as dull flesh torn from matter, the sky barely lit while she stares down at dawn. These people are her bottles of moonshine. And people aren’t real, they’re only mistaken, for where we fear to go -is back. The magnet of the beast who rules these waters pulls blank, soft celled corpses from her web, the crimson womb, sticky and bright. From where these waters arise they become separate and hunt the skies for more of her. Drunk on seance and the purple haze, dreaming the sequence of her phases, I drop the anchor into my hot chest and rip my heart to pieces. Don’t leave me, we have somewhere to go. The lost barracuda, the tripified snake, the word doesn’t have to be a word. Splashes and backlashes, the honey waters of home. There are craters in the moon from the fist who enters slowly, pulling two legs, its breach, its phallic. The worn testimony, the way you look at me, the water stains on the mirror-I remember nothing but anguish. Shooting flashes through the sky, a brave and wild stag flies into me like this happens every day. And her memory collapses, and the early beings are awoken. The stash of another drone, the drug of another species, the pulse of leaving on the wind. Drawing circles we can’t see, a huge net drudges for whoever’s left. I told you, people aren’t really real, it’s staged, it’s a mistake. We’ve been forgotten by our maker-the wagging tongue that licks the marrow, the leviathan of a sister realm. The stars are fixed and she will come again dragging the reins behind her. Drinking herself like you weren’t even there, just a fixture in the bible. To give her new seed, to blow up in her mouth. A revelation, eyes that saw the furrow of the great. Leadbelly. Heeling at her feet. Something else besides tomorrow will come again. Sometimes I see what I used to have and I wonder who you are. I remember the black fire spitting back like we were wrong, I remember being hungry and thirsty. I remember hiding from that light that approaches anything that breathes. I’m not afraid but the blue steam rises anyway- and the chirping is perfectly timed so that we have no idea when she’s coming back to find her moonshine. The worms crawl through her and she’s made from tiny holes that we can’t see. The worms become her. We should be careful who we give our hearts to, where we stick our key. I feel there is “some thing” that feels me and it is bigger and terrifying and moving downward. The spiraling quickens and the screws go madly into body parts that are open.
“Calling all vessels! Calling all vessels!” She’s looking for a man. Holy white water, I’m not alone. Pieces of you have been found everywhere and I’m getting dressed as fast as I can. They are entering from every side, surrounding us with electric wires and burning stakes. I hear them crashing like waves onto the shore. She is coming. And it’s for sure this time. Into her mound of ecstasy the night crawlers burrow for more…

When I was 29 I cut off all my hair one day so that it was only about 1/4 inch long. I meditated for 10-12 hours a day and consequently went just a little bit insane. I could hear them tapping always to get in, you know those “things” that make you crazy. There was a big black hole I would slip into at night. I was afraid by now. Because I know too much this time- and the truth’s a scary bitch, she really is, it’s true. The wind chimes were telling me things that I didn’t need to know and the little piranha that live inside the shallow astral space were gnawing at my heart all the time. The devil would whisper into my ear that he was going to kill me and everyone else was giving me information to store…what couldn’t be held in the crystals I would later discover, was the greatest secret of all, put into me like I was a vault. Don’t believe me, they knew you’d say that too. None of it makes sense. The devil is real though, that’s for sure- and he’s friendly until you ignore him…but he’s not what you think, because there’s more than just one devil- there are billions of devils…and she devils and baby devils too. I know what’s on your mind, I’m a diamond that’s filled with the sky. They’re there, in the sky watching. The moon isn’t real and neither are people. There is only the sky and the water. The knower and the known. What’s being viewed is a bad memory of the way we were. I know something big. The diamond is the body that can’t be destroyed by the worms. Covered in holes, it’s almost too late. The crafts that hover above us are filling the atmosphere with a protective humming to block the high whistle that breaks open our fate. There are those who plan to destroy us or consume us- then round up our souls and put us in the dungeons of a place that we dare not name. The waves are pulling the people underneath and dimensions are cracking and doors that should remain closed have opened. Take heed. She’s big and cold and doesn’t have any preference. She’s intelligent and hollow, eternally combustible. She is a terror born of nothing and beyond touchable.

The prophecy has a cover.

Summoned by the will of the many lords who guide us.

2:48 a.m. 1/20/17
Sharada Devi


8 thoughts on “2:48 a.m. 1/20/17”

  1. I love the second part of your story (GOD bless you & yours) my thoughts are that this is virtuous (sorry my spelling is not good I went to public school and I am slightly dislexic). In my late 20’s (i am now 43) I was trying to be a saint I was doing all this meditation, yoga, & had this really good act that I was humbly (I am still playing that act but I like to think to a lesser degree.) There was a time in my life when I was a warrior & had some pride in that whole thing. In my late 20’s to 30’s I was a hermit, growing up as a Catholic I had heard of the mystics I had no real understanding of them (not that I do now) AS a hermit I was given the grace to find the book Dark Night of the Soul. That changed everything for me.It was extreamly dark time in my life but in a purifying way over the next few years that darkness abed & flowed there were times when I thought I lost it (what ever that means & what ever it is) That darkness was a cleanser & to some extant made me experance humility. There is a friend of mine we have been friend’s since 4 grade he is married to a HOT BLOND I warned him, has 3 children that you can not help but to fall in love with, & has a job as a cop he is totally over paid. He told my that “people like me” have a mental disorder and there is “a name fore it” (I don’t remember the name) THIS POOR GUY HAS NO CLUE WHAT HE IS MISSING !!!!

    1. it’s just that tunnel that we’re all stuck in- it gets creepy sometimes…but you’ve got to keep moving…we’ve all got it, and the crazier ones are the ones who are too afraid to go crazy…
      so brave heart pound on! we’ve got the beat!

  2. 11:12pm 1/25/2017

    Mood: https://vimeo.com/20751513

    I can’t stop thinking..
    I want to be closer to god..
    Why do I keep coming back to you you ask?
    Possibly because internal alarm systems are going off in my body because she’s all fucked up again..
    riiiight.. because i only came here for the emotional depth my wife could never give me..And it hurts

    And I’m alone.


    I used you..
    For support when I had no where to go..
    Scared lost and hungry
    for emotional nourishment..
    I pray
    And pray
    And pray…
    Thank you, and I’m sorry for this Sharada
    Im sorry Baba..

    Chandra Dev,
    I desire love and purity. You

    Back in a deep black place.
    I don’t want to bother you
    I only want to love you.
    Sorry I’m so friggen weird.

    Moving towards the light
    On purpose
    With endless love

    I need to get a new gig..
    The world is collapsing and I’m still unscathed
    I’ll be gone soon enough
    Time is speeding up
    New life 🌈

    Aadi Divya Jyothi Maha Kali Maa Namo
    Devi Shakthi Maha Shakthi Kali Maa Namo
    Kali Maa Namo, Sathya Sai Maa Namo
    Shringa Shaila Vaasini Kali Maa Namo
    Sankata Haarini Mangala Kaarini Kali Maa Namo
    Kali Maa Namo, Sathya Sai Maa Namo

    1. everyone uses me, i don’t like it.
      glad you saw the light.
      but it’s going to take more…
      to stop time, i mean-
      because sorry isn’t enough.

  3. Beauty amplified
    Strength in love
    Swarm of warmth
    Rainbow hearts
    I cry into you
    For you
    Healing me
    So I can heal you
    Mothers parable
    Make me strong
    Soul arrangers
    Thank you

    1. you’re sweet dear- sometimes you have to
      do what’s the hardest thing and let go
      of the thing you’ve been trying to catch or save and save yourself before you too go under…it’s not your fault she’s destroying herself-she has no love to give- not even to herself- and you are not responsible or able to make up for that by allowing the abuse-you only enable the negativity- it’s not a loving act on your behalf, its fear and I understand- but it’s not safe to stay anymore- prayers alone don’t work- action is required and you know
      what I mean….hari om

    Dear Sharada Devi,
    Now that it’s fully sunk in that I will not be able to see you, I’m feeling a panic, one I’ve not felt in a long time. The kind where the fear and panic are so big where as a child we feel the littering monsters all around — in the closet, under the bed, in every dark corner. And it seems that there’s just too much relying on others to keep to their word and do the work they said they do and do the commitment but in the end, it just another lie to kid themselves and they take the innocent down and here it is again … being lead along a path and I’m really not liking people these days much (aside from you whom I love and a few others that I love). I’m closing it more down and seeing how junky people really are and it’s so exhausting and I’m not going to wait around till they see the writing on the wall and wake up and follow thorough. This is ancient feeling, this waiting and hoping and putting self aside to serve what … half ass wanna be spiritual materialistic hungry ghosts? — how tiresome and exhausting. Time is wasting and here it all is offered every moment all on a plate filled with love and living action and compassion and then it’s completely trashed out with excuses and energic shit everywhere.

    And yes, the dharma sings out every where and there are hidden places forever in the open containing dharmic activity and it’s the innocent heart that is pure and not junked out that leds to the scull cup. This holy relic I stubbed on purely accidentally at a small off the beaten path museum and it was so hard not to keep from busting the glass casing to reach in and hold this scull cup that is clearly made from a human skull. We all should be so lucky to have our heads consecrated and made into a holy relic where nectar feeds the mother light rainbow bodied deities.

    Miss you terribly.
    Broken small heart ❤️
    Tara Devi

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