I started seeing ghosts when I was very young.
Ghosts and aliens. They would come for me.
I was afraid and so my mom bought me a huge dog stuffed animal who I named Herbie and I would hide behind him under the blankets so they might not not be able to find me when they
got there. It was hot and hard to breath but it’s what I had to do. I had a stuffed animal army to protect me. Every night I would go down the line
(before tucking under Herbie) and each stuffed
friend would agree (they talked to me- I didn’t even want them if they didn’t have mouth because then we couldn’t talk) on how they would protect me…
Me: Rita what are you going to do to save me?
Rita the Racoon: I’m going to claw them and bite them…(she had nice claws and a big mouth)
and I would go down the line (it took awhile)

Then we I was done and had been assured
of their protection I would lie in waiting with my eyes peaking from behind the fortress of Herbie for the first one to come.

She always stood in the doorway for a long time just staring at me. She wore a dress from the 1950’s with an apron tied around her waist.
(she never changed her clothes)
then she would start walking towards me slowly and stop -stooping over me as I lie covered and hiding in my bed. By this time I was horrified and after the first time all I could do we close my eyes really tight until she was gone
She would then just stare at me and stroke my head with her gray transparent hand. Then she would just turn around and start walking and then fade away. I think she thought I was someone else.
She was just one of many…

The aliens would also come and take me I’m pretty sure. They would observe me and do other things I didn’t understand and then they would put me back in my bed and erase my mind. I remember the blindingly bright light in my eyes. I told my mother I needed to sleep in Her room because “they were coming to take me”
she never believed me (I was about 4-5 at that time)
she would say, “who’s coming to take you Michelle?”
I would say, “THEY are!”
…and she never listened or seemed to understand…needless to say, I got used to to being misunderstood at a very early age….

I remember their sheer, white, towering bodies. The electricity around them…how they can talk inside your head. They were not hurting me but I was still very afraid. They put blocks in my memory and it’s very difficult to get clear on what this relationship is about -but lately communication is open and it’s all getting very vivid. I’m sure they’re watching everything I do. I’m not sure why they took me or chose me but I’m pretty sure it’s genetics and bloodline. One of my aunts on my mothers side has also been visited.

We are a mixture of so many different strains of DNA. Some of us came here but we don’t belong here and we know it. That’s why we don’t fit in.
That’s why we aren’t ambitious. That’s why we suffer acutely. I’ve been told we came here on a mission….

Yes, I too would like to think I’m crazy but I’m not. It’s true and it’s likely you’re reading this because they visit you also. Like I said it’s very hard to remember until they open you up to them. You can’t do it yourself.
It’s a long process of forgetting and then remembering and our lives are total insanity and emotional wreckage up until a certain point. Now these are My People – where I’m from any that’s how they do it with me. It’s different depending on where you are from and who you’re aligned with- the protocol.

It seems to me the reason for the insanity and turmoil and total pointlessness
and isolation is due to The Clearing. It’s how the records are being gone through and old DNA essentially being deleted little by little and replaced with your pure heritage-your true line.
We did this on purpose. We came here to purge the planet of its poison and the first place we took it was into our genetics and blood. And it’s the first place we need to start releasing in order to successfully transmute after The Clearing has been completed and the process then merges into something called The Recollection- at which point memories, abilities and talents are released.

You have no idea how powerful you are. So powerful in fact that we could not bare even a fragment of our own greatness without their protection and gradual release. It’s an electrical capacity that we are attempting to master and
then utilize for the greater good. During the Recollection we are compelled to then begin a stage within a stage called the Retrieval. This part is just as confusing and painful as The Clearing because we are diving profoundly deep into not only our psyche but that of the collective – it’s about salvaging what’s useful and pertinent to this process- the pain and confusion is caused by the fact the as humans who are limited in foresight and wisdom and who tend to fear the unknown and the sexual we mistake the assets as detriments since they’ve been laced with shame and guilt and we can’t access our fuel and harness our greatness which stems from our sexuality most of all. All of our talents and our compassion are essentially sexual in nature. All of our desire to share and to seek-
to understand and to integrate must be realized through our sexual natures. As we currently stand as “humans” this is a massive problem and we’re reacting and we are hiding and we are forgetting and we’ve lost each other.

I was told that many have come and they are failing the mission. We should not be so alone-
we need each other because not everyone is from our strain. Not everyone who is dressed as a human is actually a human and not all of them are here for good but for other reasons. They ensnare and enslave us. And they recognize us before we even know who we are. They can literally smell our blood and know where we come from. And we can’t always see them.
There are many dimensions and many worlds close at hand but there is one place they are mostly working from and it’s as close as the nose on your face.

This is the second time with this blog that everything I was writing just gets Erased. I don’t even know how that’s possible. You think I hit some button or command but I didn’t. It’s just disappears. Which makes me think if that can happen were the words ever written at all? I think not…

So that brings me to The Dancer and who she is and how at the stage within a stage (seeking resolution while in Retrieval) we misunderstand
sometimes due to the fantasy that anything is resolveable. Either you can dance with Her or you can’t but “resolving” and all the personal property that fantasy implies is stagnant and stuck in fear turned to arrogance. We have so many tactics and way of seeking amends. We don’t learn how to move until this stage blends and folds back into itself and the freedom of The Dance and the fearlessness of the dangers of sexuality in all its facets and projections.

“She was a lucky lady
she wore a crown with horns
She was a dancer
and when the crowd turned away
she struck the mirror with a vengeance

Luck was on her side
she was a day dreamer and
a when she laid beneath the crooked tree
the sun left the sky and the moon turned black

Lucky was the lady and I knew her well……
She sat in the back of the room
her fingers were long
tracing the faces she watched
by memory alone, slow and twitching
they passed not knowing or seeing
Her face in the mirror on the long wall in the front of the room
next to the heavy door swinging
both ways….
In and out, don’t miss a moment
it goes on without you…however…
faces slipping faces into new sequence…
dying, laughing gazes of Her semblance.

They twist and they turn summoned to dance by the One who knows not how to move.
(it’s Her and Them watching and waiting)

Twisting and breaking
first the lock then the key into two.
They’ll never get out….
so She knows them all very well
…back and forth…back and forth they go
(terrible dancers with no moves)
once again into the long mirror
(of no place but here)…..
She watches the fitful turn blue….
then finally sleeping….then a new dream…
naked and wet…then flat on the floor
(let’s try this again)
their families trampling…their short reminder…
(it doesn’t get any easier)
blood bound, crossed in two…

We come and forget Them. She’s at the door watching. She’s in the mirror on the floor.
(we are the dead in between)

Everywhere blue crying eyes…are the sky…
just above the room….we never leave knowing.

Heavy lidded blinking door…into His
eyes we fall again…
(and nobody ever even asked him how
he did it)

I’m laughing lying flat on the floor. I’ll be your bridge. I’ll be your whistle. I’ll be your map to nowhere. I love Him too, I understand.
He never wanted me. He didn’t choose me.
I chose Him. It’s all my fault. He’s not even real.

My tears are just me remembering that I have nowhere left to go. I’ve been here for so long just staring at Him….

Drifting upon the land of me
a tiny island floating in the sea
whales and moonlight
and dangerous things
enchant me for a little while
the drum of horizon
echoes and recedes
bigger each day is
this face of forward
I am endless here
hovering and bobbing
in my little space
in my little sea
in my monstrous fantasy
of ever reaching me
Its funny how we think we won’t have to Dance or that we can do something different for Her- somehow -something more dignified and lofty.
It’s funny how people compete and combat one another so silently polite, so skillfully respectful- They just want through the Door. They just think She’s not listening or watching or They think there’s something better in my house. After all I married Him and He’s more famous than me…I can take care of Him and they can perch on the tree watching and judging- looking for an open window. Vultures or Eagles- we don’t know…
it depends on us.

I was the smart one and you probably were too.
People think we make no sense, that we’re possibly harboring something dark….that we’re a witch with a plan…we move to fast in the dark…
That we won’t get along – and that we pretend to be something we’re not. Everyone is pretending, come on…
You know how it is- holding up The Gates Of Hell- we better think big and talk big and mean it! Heaven is my helper, that’s all. (You can call it Heaven if you want – it’s how they taught us so that we could understand)

I always meant to let them through as soon as I knew they fell from the right tree- you know what tree I mean- it’s a big garden and everybody’s been eating each other’s fruit -We all yield the fruits of our being at the Harvest. They’ll be here soon, there’s no doubt about that. They’ve been watching what we’ve planted and how it’s grown. It’s us. The Seeds. We’re preserving the language of God -but we’re so confused we think God is an emblem or a scam or a punishment.. We created God -and we put God in the museum- and we can turn God off and On with the flip of a switch…they taught us how.
Us the angels with heavy wings . Us the carnivores with no teeth to eat. And I’m not saying flesh eating is a sin, it’s more of a proclamation. Nothing wrong with being in charge. moderators, mediators, meditators, masturbators- what’s the difference will you tell me? These are the sheep and the wolves we must love. There’s no other way sometimes than to obey and follow or to chew off our own leg when necessary. (we should really be able to do that)
We were planted here and we didn’t do it….something Big is going on!
So what I’m saying is we shouldn’t be opportunists and takers-
We should listen to the Rain on the Roof. We should dig deep into the left overs. The Cadaver, The Beehive, they all belong to Her.

We should drop the ball. Let the hatchet fall. Let it all hang out. We should drain the faucet. We should spread our Luck everywhere.
Otherwise I don’t see a point to any of this madness….

Where I go to see God

the moon on the roof
the squinting moonbeam
of light above this house
never saw the tears
inside these holy walls
Stains on my window
chapel cross
I never meant to find you
Kneeling so far
away from me
I tore my clothes from
this body proper
I crawled to you
beneath the silence
shining silver shaded eyes
Is God looking? Will he see?
the melting moon below…

I went inside to find you
the lock at the top of the stairs
was rusted, old stuck in ruin
I knew you were down there
searching the church for memories
in the basement collusion
sewage and clutter ripped
away from you
(the meaning you held)

Down here
(when I got in)
deep down in the scripture
I heard God speak from the letters
mass swelled, rounded glory…
and the waters rose….and I
licked him…free from his germ
(this God of mine)
He said to me
“Trees don’t grow like they used to”

(there was a little tree outside my window)

“God is that you?”
She swam like a shark to the blood
(until the swarm caught her eye)
picking meat from the bony bible
near the drain in her mind.

“It isn’t working out. You’re still outside praying”
(God pulled rank
and the demons are bled)

“Get out of me and find your way”
God said to the alphabet moon.

(little world beneath me)
We should go deeper. We should speak Their language. Otherwise He isn’t listening to a word we say and She isn’t very happy either.
(She’s moody you know)

Deep..deeper and down below….we go into Earth
…into our dirty hearts and start believing in Him again. “Let the worms live” I say.

Our hearts are broken into a pattern-a sequence- a wormhole mess- a genuine masterpiece- that’s how we learn to write music …and that’s the song She’s expecting and waiting for us to dance to…
Our Song. We don’t resolve anything. We become It.

You may think I’m abstract but it’s clear…
The key is in the socket-“what’s the password?”
twist and turn until it opens….”let me in” I told Him

I laid in the center of The Star waiting for Him.
With his magic dagger and smoke- He began invoking the Snake God (after all a big black snake did live there) I was The Breech, The Upside Down One. He could take it all back to Them now and exorcise this vessel. They were in the sky watching…invisible, cloaked and certain
that tonight was the night for The Switch.
Stars fell and I became ash mixed with sound….
(I can tell you more later)

So I did what I could do after that…thinking I had to keep the demons away…the hungry ghosts who live amongst us who can never get enough…who judge and ponder and chew holes into the rules of the game. Yes we’re beyond the rules and it isn’t a game. but not yet….not so fast …as far as I can tell we’re stalling.

The forest where we were that twilight, where we drew the star near the water…still seeps…teeming with unseen life. We did this.
We will be meeting with Them soon….So we need the crossfires and we need the distinction (until the clock stops and the point stops spinning) Thats when we make the Switch.
When They remove Their cloak and we hear the Hummmmm stirring in the dark….breaking through
my head…the wall between us and Them. She’s never tired and tonight is always the night.

I laid down in the center of my immaculate creation. We drew the star. We heard the music. We know it’s asking a lot that we do this.
I’m here now remembering that you were there with me and I’m hoping tomorrow goes by more slowly than today…but for us I don’t think so.
I am the Keeper of the Gate….and those who’ve read the book want in…..

And He’s not even real. He’s a piece of cardboard and I’m guarding a gate that opens to
an aimless grasp-His magic Hands. His magic Eyes. His magic Voice. But He isn’t anybody but what you’ve imagined Him to be. He can’t take us with Him after all. The tricks He’s played on us! The things He’s gotten us to do for Him. The love He conjures…I am the Gate Keeper guarding Her Dream of Him.
I guard it so it will never be killed by the
takers of His fruit. Everything has a price and thieves are always mistaken. The thieves want His loot. He has nothing- but they want it anyway. They
know I’m a hunter…they have good instincts -some of them…they say “She’s a Dark force”
“She wants to stab me in the back with an ice pick”
(I’m not making this up- these are real people)

“I only looked your way once, how do you know I love you that much?”

They think I have feelings for them and that’s why they aren’t allowed through These Gates.

They don’t know I feel nothing for them and it’s not personal. I can write whatever I want. I’m the Keeper of the Gate. The road spirals up from here and it’s important that we understand the dangers of entrance. I love them all from a distance but the rules are the rules, me and you know this and im so relieved I’m no longer alone.
They tried to break me and tear down the wall…
I told you that Heaven helps me, and She did.
Nobody is invincible. Let’s not forget this.

I’ve been abused and neglected. Used and worn old…but I never quit my job. I’m always on duty.

It’s funny to see how I say what I say. Whose writing this ridiculous jumble of nonsense?
It’s me as The Bridge and The Peacemaker, that’s who…

Why not? I’ve nothing to hide. (that’s probably a lie though) I will tell you eventually but for now
my love speaks only in riddles and chaos.

I mean what I say-

…and my mother said that the devil would come if I worshipped the little white Buddha that I found in the alley..and so I took him away in the basket of my bike that evening at dusk and broke him into pieces all over the alley…..
that night I sat up waiting for the devil to take me with the light on in my room…terrified just sitting, vulnerable on my bed with no help but my stuffed animals and my little dog…I needed to find the courage to go…when He came…
He didn’t come that night…but I kept waiting…
(This is a true story)

And then I dreamed of Kali …..

2 thoughts on “THE DANCER”

  1. It must have been in the span of time between the years of seven and nine when these occurrences took place. i used to wonder if is was actually a dream state. But the frequency of these happenings was ongoing and much too palpable. It would be night time and i would be in my bed. Hovering above me were two (what seemed like) face-less entities encompassed in luminosity There was a sense of a considerable discrepancy in their towering size as opposed to myself ).
    The most unique and exceptional attribute of these beings was this distinct smell. It was like an off-gassing odor. Similar to that of a plastic toy after newly being unwrapped from it’s cellophane bag.
    There was an awareness that this pair of forms were not identical. The one on the left was female and on the right male.
    Some times the visitation would take place in my bedroom. But on other occasions, we would be transported to the house next door.
    It has only been lately that i have realized that these visions took place during the period of time that my bed was facing in a particular direction. The placement of the house next door was parallel to the positioning of my bed.
    When the bed was located in this space. ( it might have been towards the west ) there were also incidents of a certainty that there was a force that would lurk beneath my bed. i thought of it as lucifer at the time but that naming would have been restricted to my limited ability to recognize the source of it’s existence. It was not so daunting if the door remained open. But once my Father closed the door ( and He would ) the sensation of peril would commence.
    i lived in that room for 14 years. And during those years the furniture would eventually be re-arranged . So it was only while i was faced in that particular direction that i remember those experiences.
    i never shared this information with anyone.

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