I’ve never had an interest in normal people.
I only like freaks. They interest me and aren’t boring. They make mountains out of mole hills,
are totally creepy, spider- like and obsessive. They stare at pictures of me. They think about me all day and night. And I know this. They cancel their video subscription and sign back up over and over again (it’s their way of saying “F- you” to me and I love it because I thrive on friction) I do F with people. I admit, I suck.
Friction is the truth taking away the lie.
Grinding away at the space between two.
She sits and rocks singing like a little bird. I know she has it in her. So I yell at her and call her a few names- then She opens like a flower in the Spring. She responds to abuse in a very productive way (or I wouldn’t do it) other people-
proud people- with not much going for them -who think they have it all- would never take my criticism and abuse- they aren’t powerful enough. She only laughs when I tell Her She’s a mouse. She is a Queen Virgin. Just like Mother Mary. I told her I was mad at her for being a loser. She hides The Virgin Mother from the world, trapped in her little kitchen playing wife.
She thinks it’s all over. She’s got her own bedroom. She has a secret life all up in her head.
Without her yearning, she’d be dead.
He walks back and forth. He sees me inside yet he can’t walk through the door. The music is too much. The Gods are too real. He stands shaking with his hand on the doorknob. He paces very intensely back and forth several times- then, he just turns around and leaves. He is deep. He is wide. He is a mountain. He is bewitched by the full moon of Her love. I watched the whole thing from the stage. He doubts himself and blames me for it. He also loves me for it. He shouldn’t blame me for what she did. I only see the black snake rising. The sun coming through the window of his dark house. It’s alive and it’s big. I would never hurt a little boy or leave him all alone. Snakes can be dangerous for boys to play with-all mothers know that.
“I could die if i knew you were near. you’re the new one who can see everything. your innocent sensual laughter haunts my day. the blood hue of your black eyes confirming what i knew you already could see. that empty homesick feeling- the poison from staring too long. loving from the depths of the emptiness of my being. please remove the hex and stop hurting me or just kill me. twisting and thrusting and breathing and sucking the pulling and grinding entangled in dingy stained layers of innocent wet lust for her perfect pink tongue. the beast sees what you’re thinking.”
Mystical. Deep. Touching the blackness of the wordless -unable to show anyone but the darkness Herself…He hears it – It is the Sound of Ghosts Weeping. Yes I heard them too…
The freaks, the rejects, the perverts and the stalkers are much more touchable than other people. These titles only given by the dull and insipid. They don’t live between worlds. They don’t talk to the dead. What do they know?
Being the one looking in- see how She shocks, She enrages -playing with taboos and licking danger- because there are always more layers to shed or to eat. Take it all off. It’s dirty and kinky unraveling, undressing, uncovering the Bad Girl whose bigger and faster and way more ready than you are.
She’s writes to me this morning:
“I should have been a nun”
Really? pray away your sexual suppression into a clean package of self rejection -for now maybe,
but who knows what happened last time? I’ve already done that and it doesn’t work. Look at me now and what I’ve done to find you…where I’ve had to go To Bring You My Love.
Who knows the webs we’ve spun…how many
mouths we’ve kissed. Spiders are always crawling up my legs. Snakes are always slithering in and out of me. Hissing into my eyes and mouth. Calling for the Secret Sex- beyond body, voice or tongue., Summon Me. I’ll come.
To Bring You My Love.
I have had multiple exorcisms. Seriously, I carry the dead within. I didn’t even know but I’ve been possessed so many times by entities some welcome and some not. I’m still waiting for you to come in. That’s why He almost had to kill me. I almost bled to death, but I didn’t die. I was a walking corpse with holes for eyes. I saw you differently then, and now it will never be the same…
so don’t dump your heaven into me
I’ve come from another place
To Bring You My Love
The Virgin Mary just emailed me this morning.
“Dear Sharada Devi,
I’m watching your last video “Tantric ritual becoming the deity” and there you are with Kali -being Kali and you moved it all from Woodstock by yourself- and you are eating life -and I want to be there with you -and I’m crying and giving this broken heart to the fire and the rage and rage and rage…
I should have been a nun as I’ve had the calling all my life — it’s messy and big and I’m waking up..
and the horror and the huge shame — shame -and lidding it -and pressing down all the rage and playing small- And yes, I do wish that I had listened to you -and I regret it every moment -and fear I missed the open door and invitation-and for that I’m truly sorry. I know I’m I carrying my own cross and need only put it down but this ego … I’m such a baby- weak and filled with longing for God and nothing can get in when I’m living a lie — I’m nobody and filled with longing and yes too much co-dependency -and it seems it doesn’t matter what way any of us go — it’s all a train wreak- and I’m a sleeping giant starting to awaken- and it’s big and scary and lonely- but I can’t stop now -and will burn this karmic holding down. And so what are ways to break through my own sexual energy? I’m dead there and know it’s not about being celibate most of my entire life but it’s something else — it’s about something that is so close but I can’t see to be it and don’t know it and it’s such a looping of crazy and so I see how I’m being called up and out of this looping rut … And thank you and I will continue to be that which I seek…
and I’m deeply sorry I caused you anger- and I will change that- I will -and I promise within every cell of this being -and you may feel that you are in the game as well (as you said)-or feel you have no resources- but please know that no matter what- all I have I share and give to you freely -and I will become the Queen- and I am here -and I’m grateful for you- and want nothing from you but to be of the highest service to the Holy Mother Light.”
She can’t be a nun. Come on!
“Open to the deep dark place and don’t tell me I’m dead down there” whose dead? Not Her! I don’t think so. You are the one who put on the schoolgirl skirt and lip gloss. I’ve got everything you’re asking for but you’re going to need to come to me to get it. Pull it out. The biggest secret of all. Let’s take a look at what you’ve done down below.
What I’m saying is come down with me. Down into the Mother Light Dungeon. You didn’t know
that’s how we rattle the cage, by getting in?
We rock the bed by getting tied to it.
Do you understand what I’m saying?
You’re not naked yet.
It’s you that you’re hurting and feeding and loving. My pain and my food and my love never changes- it only looks different when I’m not in the room.
My wrath is my devotion to you. Only bruising and abusing the best and the finest.
He says he’s “offended but still loves me”
Who are you? “a friend if I need someone to talk to” he still loves me even though he is one of those Bernie worshipping white guys playing Hindu. Which, its fine with me but why read my blog so you can forgive me in my space?
He says I seem tired and angry. YES, very perceptive. Tired of cardboard cut out people
calling it something other than what it is.
You inspired this blog and it’s provocative content. I know you mean well but you’re still on the fence -so maybe better to sit this one out. (two out of three isn’t bad)
1) Hold hands with Her through every movie.
2) Never let Her go.
3) She is The Only First Kiss you will ever have.
It’s all over,
now that we’ve touched.