Lately I’m so busy I have to schedule my daily staring out the window time.
The markets and governments are falling down as humanity rises UP.
My philosophy.
New York Cityscape (by daveterry)
It’s not what’s about to happen that’s the issue, it’s whether or not we’re going to believe it.
untitled by sleep, dream on Flickr.
As wild as it sounds I’ve discovered a way in which to “see” the invisible—it’s like unearthing a half covered circle by leaving it where it is and imagining its missing piece… Something’s shifted—the feedback loop between my gaze and the world has been closed and amplified. It’s no longer that the sun shines on me it’s that I express its light and warmth. I’m a poetic extension of the sun—like a ray of light shining through dust particles or a puddle of water that slowly vanishes over the course of a leisurely lunch...
Can you feel it when I write about you?
The voice inside that I remember from when I was a child is back—for many years it was a scattered, garbled frequency but now I can feel it coursing through my body. There is the sense of following a story that is already written…many aspects are like being a child again…the sense of wonder in the everyday…the feeling of fearlessness.
(via chromatiqueaberration)
Within a single day, the same vague yet poetic line that you read in a book appears in a movie and then in a conversation with a friend you run into down the street from the theater, who has never heard of the movie.
Everywhere you look are 11’s and 22’s. The time is always 9:11 and 11:11. It shouldn’t mean anything. But something inside of you says that it does. The numbers feel like affirmations—signposts along the way…
You were looking for something you lost and accidentally found something you never expected that turned out to be exactly what you needed.
scout: jotterbook: crystal-castles: coffeeshake
FIND THE OTHERS: If your world has been utterly changed by instances of synchronicity and magic don’t keep it to yourself, no matter how crazy it sounds. Share the path. True thankfulness is giving back and strengthening the feedback loop of which you are now a part. By doing this the synchronicity and magic that was originally experienced comes back again on a whole other level. All that mind blowing stuff becomes amplified by the act of putting it out there. Include both the serious and ridiculous in your updates, put it in your tweets…remix and reblog the experiences of others….
Leave a careful trail like Elliott’s Reese’s…and you too will guide your best friend alien twin HOME.
Shifting from noticing syncs, to feeling them, to being them.
I’m deep into the writing of my book about online telepathy and getting more and more psyched about sharing what I’ve discovered with the internets. Unlike paths of enlightenment that require special diets or years of study, online telepathy is readily available to anyone as long as they can get online. You don’t have to master arcane knowledge or become physically or spiritually pure. You don’t have to have a clear mind—merely an open one. Once you are aware of the possibility of telepathy, the more it will happen.
Telepathy is a part of the activation a new/old way of being in the world. A way of being more aligned with plants and people. A way of feeling what’s going to happen—not by “reading” the future but by reading the NOW of the universe in its always unfolding everlasting becoming—the non-local, non temporal I AM urge and instinct that is at once the center and the circumference—the black hole and the spinning galaxy, the drain and the water rushing down it.
In the dream I woke up at the foot of my bed, floating above my feet. It was one of those dreams in which there are two selves: the dream watching me and the dream participating me. Everything was longer than in real life—the room, the bed and my body—so at first the dream watching me couldn’t tell if the dream participating me’s head was actually in the bathroom next door, but then I realized that there was a man hunched over where it was. He had his back to me and I couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed to be at work on my head—I could hear wet sucking sounds as well as those of metal tools clinking about. I didn’t know who he was or what he was doing: eventually this made me a bit unnerved, but I was slow on feeling this way because I was playing catch up with the rules of reality as is so often the case during dreams. Eventually the dream watching me pulled it together enough to call out “hey” to the man as I struggled to get a better view of my twin head. He answered back but his words were garbled. I wanted very badly for him to turn so I could see who he was but he remained focused on whatever it was that he was doing but the desire was so strong that hung in the air and billowed about like a fat silk ribbon—purple, then red, then pink and purple again.
I strained and finally saw that he was bent over a series of clear glass pipes. He was sucking at one and spitting into another—both of them were clear at the bottom but overwhelmed by a mysterious thick black tar.
I saw that the man’s lips and fingers were coated with the stuff. It was coming out of my head. I had a flash of cleaning my glass pipe—and how the resin got all over the sink and my hands.
That image was the totem—the dream started crumbling around me as I started getting pulled up towards wakefulness. In my in between state I again called out to the man and asked what he was doing.
He turned and I saw his eyes—kind, patient, full of love. I didn’t know who he was but something reassured me he wasn’t a stranger.
With a huge filthy hand he gestured to the half-clear pipes and tubing sticking out of the dream participating me’s head:
“We’re taking this out to fill the space with something new.”
(via bloodisthenewblackk)
