Welcome to The Pub At the End of the Universe.

[songsfortheotherkind]

This post started out as one thing and has hugely morphed into another. I'm going to post it as it's evolved, with the original still present, because I need to stream of consciousness this process.

The Pub has become my Clan. I actually am head of a legally recognised Clan in real life, in which I am known as the Phoenix, the one who keeps the evolution going by being able to rise from her own ashes again and again. It's a deeply spiritual and power calling and I resisted it for the longest time; I don't resist it any more, it's just how it is and it's part of my sui generis.

Clan is an intimate thing for me. I have recognised that the connection and revealing that happens within Clan works for me because of the multiversal nature of my Being; within a group there is less possibility of being mindf*ucked, of having oily slitherin' pull its tricks in the midst of blind spots and emotional black holes. Within an intimate group there is the sense of having more than one someone at my back: knowing the virus the way that I do, I fully get how it can mess with individuals when they are in deep connection with each other and having more eyes watching the dynamics makes so much sense to me. I get it all the time in the energetic and Other realms; in contrast the societal and psychological isolations here cause me to feel like I'm constantly stumbling through the matrix blinded.




Without the universal Mirror I am blinded. With only one Mirror I am caught in confusion because I'm intimately familiar with my own wounds and how they interconnect with those that I have opened my Self to: the virus within me locks mouths with the virus within them and things can rapidly turn to slamdance sex with the virus if consciousness is lost. I am deeply aware that for me, connecting with the masculine is a clusterf*uck of epic proportions when it comes to the triggering of virus: I know why this is *and* it doesn't stop it from happening when I'm in connection with specific kind of signal.



I have been trying to write all day, without success: words and concepts are jumping in and out of my mind faster than I can get them down, as frustrating as that is on one level. I am defragging, apparently- Borden suggested it last night during a conversation and it seems my backbrain thought it a splendid idea. I've been chunking all day as a result, in a good way: ideas and memories have been rising to the surface for embracing or releasing, sometimes both, and I'm aware that I am doing an inventory- I am taking stock, gathering the cloth that is my life to me and looking at the pattern, aware that I am embracing the beginning of something absolutely new, a shift from the previous creation in every way.

I have been watching the kaleidescope of my mind moving and turning, patterns coalescing and colliding, moving again in constant motion as I process, deciding what to keep and what to let go. I know I'm clearing house internally, releasing anything that is getting in the way of the evolution I'm going through: I've done this before, and yet there's something really different about it this time. I want to trust this Being in a way I haven't been able to before.



It is amazing finding someone with whom I can absolutely be my Self, even when who I am in the moment seems ridiculously fragile or facile or f*ucked up. I'm learning what it is like to really be in the space with another Being when I'm consciously choosing to not run my usual shields; in other levels of expression I'm finding other individuals with whom to play and explore and yet this connection is the profound one, the one that keeps leading me deeper into my Self and into what is there between us.

- and then it explodes, in all its glorious banshee technicolour and I'm blind sided again, left stumbling and confused again. I have always seen the damage that banshees leave in their children; I have no doubt that my own older children have experienced the banshee in me, because no matter how one wants to be different sometimes it's the triggers that win. I know that I did the very best I could with what I had, always, and I was constantly hacking at the systems in me, trying to find my way out of the horror and noise screaming n my head while I tried to Shine for my children.

The banshee attacks integrity and wholeness in others and in Essence. I experience the explosion as a full frontal assault on my integrity and intention; I've experienced every partner I've ever had as doing exactly the same thing when triggered, the Hulk smashing against my integrity. I try to back away and hold up my hands, I try to get clarity, to explain my Self, to defend, to get back to clear signal, to fight my way out of the virus, to call on what the other knows me to be, and I'm in a space of drowning and looking in confusion at the other holding my head under the water until I realise I have to fight back or drown- then it gets really ugly, because I pick partners that I experience as being able to fight waaaay dirtier than I can.

I've worked out why this is too: I can effortlessly defend my Self against world class female banshees, I can do it with my eyes closed and three quarters asleep and have done so. When my sister Morgana turned 12 the banshee rose up and consumed her, like it had my mother and some of my mother's aunts- by the age of 14 she was out of control and become a real danger to me, including setting me up to watch me fight my way like a demon out of a gang rape, while she stood in the background and laughed gleefully.

My mother and her would take each other on with lumps of 2X4 wood; I watched Morgana break her arm throwing a punch at my mother's head and connecting with the brick wall wall behind instead when my mother ducked. My sister grunted as her arm broke, shook her head and just fought with the other hand. Occasionally the two of them would try and turn it on me but I had something neither of them could meet- I'd learned by then that the energy healing stuff I could do could be used as both defence and weapon, it was one of the ways I learned to defend my Self against male attackers. That was why my sister set me up: she was happy to see me either get gang raped or fight my way out of it using something I wasn't comfortable using. I did things that night I still don't know how I pulled off- I simply wasn't going to let it happen, I was going to either walk away or they were going to have to kill me.

Shortly after this my sister attacked me in town. It was late at night and the place was fairly abandoned, except for the mandatory drunken teenagers and hoons in their cars. I don't even know now how she got me out there- I avoided people like the plague and I would never have gone if she's asked me directly, so it must have been another set up. My memory doesn't really kick in until her trying to drown me in the town fountain and me suddenly realising that I'm either going to have to fight her or die, because she was really going to do it- nobody would have come to my aide, they were all absolutely scared stiff of her and they would have let me die. We fought with absolute and ferocious animal instinct that night and she only broke my nose while I slammed her all over the park energetically; I unleashed what I had in me and left her in a curled up ball on the ground. I left for Melbourne not long after that and by the time I got back she'd gone. I saw her a handful of times over the next 20 years, until finally she was so burned out on drugs that she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag, not that it would ever get to that these days: I have done so much work, so much evolution, that now I feel only compassion for her and all that past has faded into nothing in me. There is no load when it comes to my sisters or mother, the virus has morphed it into a battle of a different kind.

[Zebra]

I am so tired but I had to read this post Songs. I have just returned from the battleground out there on another thread that is so full of the virus, it has exhausted me .. and I wonder why I bother.
Thank you for this latest writing, truly, I am nourished here.

You take care
Big hugs, Z xox

[Dennis Leahy]

This post started out as one thing and...

Wow, sister. I have worked hard at learning the difference between being compassionate - truly compassionate - and performing as a rescuer. This story would be an easy one to follow into rescue mode. Instead, I will just say 'thanks.' Thanks for sharing snippets of the path you have walked. Thanks for that level and degree of raw truth.

Dennis

[songsfortheotherkind]

The psychic battles with my mother were far more deadly and vicious. It was relentless: she'd take me and my sisters to the drive in movies where she'd watch double feature horror movies; I'd lie in the backseat and whisper stories to my sisters until they'd go to sleep and then sit in the footwell, hands over my ears, trying to shut out the sounds. It never really worked: I already had PTSD and the movies only served to amp the nightmares, I'd wake up frozen and in horror, unable to make a sound because she'd trigger if I cried for any reason.

One night she said we were going to have a special evening together and so I sat in the front seat, looking forward to the film she had taken me especially to see. I was so excited and eager- I was still such a hopeful, ever hopeful child, I was only about 9- and mum was behaving like it was a great treat she was giving me. The movie turned out to be One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest. I was a really, really intelligent and switched on kid, I fully understood that film and I was trapped in the front seat, my mother glancing over at me every now and again, so I had to put my frozen mask on because I knew better than to let anything show. At the end of the film, when the full horror of the situation had revealed itself and I had learned that there were things called lobotomies that could be done to destroy the connection to essence permanently, she turned to me brightly and said 'if you ever do things that I don't like, I can just go to the doctors and tell them you're a problem and get them to do that to you.' She laughed at the look on my face, because the hellish picture she'd just painted pierced even my formidable defences. That night my mind crawled with nightmares so foul that for the first time I wanted to die.



From then on it was a constant battle to avoid her grasping energy that hunted for my essence. I learned to hone my energetic ability until it could keep her out from me in my sleep; by day I slid and skiddered and deflected constantly, battling always to protect the tiny light inside me that flickered at my core. It was that experience for almost 14 years that shut my core away from my own sight and I had to spend almost 25 years afterwards trying to excavate it again. It's the precious thing, my Self, my integrity and my essence, that I managed to hold onto and protect throughout all the darkness and nightmare; it's why having my essence and integrity maligned triggers me so badly.



I bring everything that I have to any relationship, I bring every one of my deep and true treasures and lay them out, touching them with reverence and asking 'Do you see? Do you get this? These are the gifts of my Being- are they of worth to you?' I have not been able to do this well in relationship: my language fail, my inability to navigate the banshee in the other while struggling with the remnants of it in me, my fragile grasp on any real idea of what to do in that space, all cause the creation to shatter despite the best efforts I can muster. I know it is not just me, despite what is said to me; I stay in the storm and try and try, because I know that this is something I understand, I know how to rise from ashes again and again.

What I am unsure of now is- is this a good marker? Or is the virus entangling me in another closed loop?

I eventually got so good at rebutting my mother's attacks that she finally admitted when I was 14 that she was afraid of me and the overt stuff ended then. I've since had some powerful female banshees have a go at different times and they phase me not one iota.

No, my kryptonite is males that carry banshee energy: as defense or attack mode, it doesn't matter, I'm utterly whickered by it and it turns me to gibbering mess. I've been trying to work out why and how, and what to do about it.

The thing is, I get that they're experiencing me exactly the same way, no matter what I do, and it's locked into a dynamic that I can't find my way out of. Yesterday I violated my Self by apologising for being my Self to try and diffuse the energy: I've realised today, after some other crap went down in other aspects of my life, that this is not the way I want to play, Be or co-create. That is not the path of my sui generis: I am dedicated to undoing the virus so that I can evolve *beyond* all that crap, hold the signal for a way of Being that undoes all war, all harm as it is on this level of the playing field. That means I have to tackle the virus as it manifests *in me*.

So here I am, asking my Clan to be my eyes within the signal while mine are battling virus: help me see what I cannot see, help me map this dark space in the virus so that I can respond from a beautiful and clear space rather than feeling like I'm fighting for my survival. He's the Mirror of my own confusion; I have the feeling that it is as bad a space for him as it is for me, but I own that this is just my own perception. I don't want to be the source of that kind of dissonance for anyone and I want to know how to do that without violating my Self. I want to know how to get out of a blind spot, what it takes to see that which I cannot in all sincerity see.

Deep discovery happens on a daily basis for me now. I get to explore the issues I have with connecting with another Being without all the usual sliding and sideways shifting that I habitually do: it's not as if I'm intending to do it, I'm just so used to doing these things that it's taken another slidey Being to nudge me, lean over and say 'I know what you're doing there- do you really want to do that?'. I've been able to see things that I couldn't see before, because I had taken it for granted a long, long time ago that this hidden, shifting chameleon nature was the best way for me to operate in a world of Bozo the Clowns and the Idiot Brigade. I have in the past experienced Worlds of Suck when it came to navigating the bizarro elements of connection and interaction with others; dissonance and confusion from within and without, with me having no compass, no idea of what the landscape was about



and gradually drowning within my Self, no ability to navigate within the constant deer in headlights that I still experience when it comes to getting close to another. I've been exploring this because I'm aware that I get confused in relationships due to not understanding how to hold my sui generis in the space while holding the sui generis of another. I was raised by a crazymaker (look it up, it's actually a psyche term now), a banshee, an absolute and true narcissist, one of those individuals who are capable of making every situation frought and it's *always* about them. I grew up in confusion and terror with regards what I experienced as the unpredictable and frightening behaviours of others, a constantly unstable ground which rose and heaved beneath me, no solid platform ever from which to approach the world.

and the upheaval happened again and I'm determined to follow the lead this opportunity has given me: I'm not going to waste the dark gift of awareness the banshee brings.

My relationships with males have always contained the element of banshee: it would switch between me and them with rapid fire regularity. I understand that banshees, like all wounds, attract each other. What I don't know is what to do about it- I lose my Self when I experience another as running banshee at me and I watch my Self trigger until I'm running either banshee defense (which is as toxic as banshee itself) or banshee in return. I genuinely don't know what to do in all of this: my sui generis explodes in my hands and I'm blinded, drowning in the confusion of energy and words and the inability to speak what I can see from within me because I understand how banshee works. Nothing can stop a banshee once it's triggered, unless one determinedly holds onto consciousness, and consciousness won't let a banshee play out.

This is where the deeper wound of growing up with a banshee kicks in: the deep belief that if I am my Self I'll be rejected, because that is one of the arsenal of the banshee, the slammed door, the energetic cut off, the isolation and silent treatment. As a child dependent on the banshee for survival this is terror- the choices are accept the treatment or be cast out, that micro of the macro paradigm- conform, conform, submit, acquiesce, give up your essence or be cast out, made invisible, silenced. It's a sh!tful, insidious trick that entraps and binds me, on every level; I am pierced and have my throat cut again and again with this one, because I have experienced what that abandonment was like.



When I was seven I was raising my two younger sisters and trying to keep things together while also using massive amounts of healing power to manage the constant physical assaults I was experiencing. I was an exhausted, haunted, hidden and internally collapsed child struggling to maintain an external mask of blankness that wouldn't trigger my mother in any way as well as not reveal anything I wasn't supposed to, such as the constant molestation at the hands of her boyfriends. I lived in constant, relentless fear and I had a powerful sense of protection towards my sisters.

One day my mother went out and didn't come home that night. The story was told to me years later by my grandmother because she had discovered that I had only fragmented memory of my childhood before age 11 and she was filling in some of the blanks; some of the details would slide and move around- after all, we were that kind of family- so this is kind of an aggregate of the various versions I was given. I apparently fed my sisters as best I could and took care of them: during the morning of the first day my closest to me sister Morgana had a fall and gashed her leg badly on some rusty tin. I did the best I could to clean it and used my energy on it and helped her feel better. The next day was the same and my mother didn't come home that night either.



When we woke up the third morning my sister's leg looked really strange. It was puffy and red and my sister was running a temperature. My asthma had kicked in the night before and I was struggling to breathe from fear and worry- we had no phone, we lived in total isolation, my grandparents lived 100ks away and I was running out of food. During the day my sister became worse; there were strange red lines running from the cut, which had started weeping pus in a way that scared me, and she was getting really sick. My baby sister was crying a lot and I didn't know what to do.

By the time evening came around my sister was delirious, I had nothing but upper chest breathing and a fever that indicated my asthma had decided to become an infection. I kept pushing my Self to take care of my sisters and in a dim part of my mind something kicked in, recognising that we were in very deep sh1t. I couldn't let my Self sleep because my sister was sick- it was a thing I had, I did it on long trips too, I wouldn't let my Self sleep so that I could keep the bad away and protect my sisters- so I was beyond exhausted from the terror and struggle. So I Sent for my nanna.

Nanna said I hit her like a ton of bricks. She was up and out of the bed, racing around the house and yelling to Pa before she was even awake: Pa thought Nan was having some kind of fit, she was running around the house screaming 'John, JOHN, they're dying! They're dying!' and it took him some time before he could get her to explain. He didn't bother trying to tell her it was nothing but a dream- this was the woman who in 49 years of marriage he could never surprise with a gift because she always knew, not matter how bizarre it was, and she'd told him the moment she first held me that I had the gift in a big way- and they bundled into the car at one in the morning and drove like maniacs until they got to our house.

Nan said that when they found us Pa cursed my absent mother with language that she never heard him use before or after that day. She said I was upright and awake, grey and drenched in sweat, forcing my Self to breathe with great heaving chest movements, my two sisters heads resting on my lap and my spindly arms wrapped around them. They couldn't rouse my sister Morgana and my baby sister woke and cried about being hungry. My grandfather was so unbelievably angry and I thought he was angry with me- I kept apologising, over and over again, telling her I was sorry and that I had tried, I tried so hard and I'd tried not to get scared- I didn't realise why my Nan was crying, I thought it was because I was being such a problem, because I'd failed. Nan couldn't really talk about that part. I don't remember any of it at all.

My sister Morgana was rushed to hospital in Melbourne and spent several weeks there while they battled the septicemia. She nearly lost her leg and her life. I spent just as long in the more local hospital while I slipped in and out of a coma brought on by asthma aggravated by pleurisy. I have one memory of that; I came to and my Nan was sitting beside me, stroking the hair away from my forehead. I kept whispering to her 'don't let me die nanny, please don't let me die' and she shook her head at me and stroked my hair and told me in a voice that was absolute that it wasn't going to happen. It did though, I just am unsure now if it was that time or another, but I have died twice, struggling for breath and in shock, from asthma. Fortunately I have no conscious recollection of what they did to get me going again, but my body remembers.

After this we went and lived with my grandparents in Melbourne for quite awhile. Just when the nightmares were easing and my shoulders were learning to unlock, we were given back to my mother. My grandmother explained years later that she felt guilty over childhood stuff with my mum and she was motivated by that. It didn't matter, because it only took a short while back in that house and my mother locked me under the kitchen sink, in a tiny little cramped space, for 17 hours as punishment for some offense or other- she apparently forgot I'd been in there most of the day because I'd stopped making any sound and she went to bed- and my mind finally fractured and shattered, using my natural pathways of fluidity and turning them into a defence system that eventually would become a vicious weapon against my Self. It also formed the foundation for my later ability to play with multiplicity.

I don't think I've written about that before like that. I had had a vague sense of wanting to write about my integrity, and why it's important that this be valued in a relationship- and this came out.

[Borden]

Yogi, navel-gazer types used to piss me off. I mean the ones who sit in caves for decades and try to rise above the physical realm. The hardcore ones. To be honest, the ones who follow them used to piss me off too, but that's for a different reason.

The hardcore yogis seem to think that by not thinking, and by meditating on the fact that this reality is an illusion, they are going to transcend it. Hmm. That's a bit like going on holiday and spending the whole time in the hotel room trying to phone home. They seem to think they've come on holiday by mistake. They all look like miserable old wet weekends too. Strangely, they do tend to use room service quite a lot, and that's where the followers often come in.

The followers leave the hotel but only go to the tourist places and eat in restaurants that cater to people like them from wherever they are. They don't see the place they are in. They only see somewhere that is safely like home but with foreign people in it, unusual buildings to gawp at, and quaint anomalies in the otherwise very familiar restaurant menu.

The reason the yogi types used to piss me off is that this world is and always has been a virus lockdown, and if they're going to do something different, then it probably shouldn't be just an alternative version of magnificently missing the point. The big religions have already got everything stitched up there. The big religions focus on the concept that where you are is no f***ing holiday, but when you do finally get a holiday, it will be incredibly long, and it will either be somewhere really incredibly fab, or somewhere really unpleasant and hot. This choice of destination is dictated by what a good, unquestioning little worker you can be.

Then you've got the reductionist brigade who think that corporate-engineered lab funding constitutes the length and breadth of all that is. They wouldn't know what true science was if it reversed over them. As wave or particle. They don't even believe in the existence of holidays. So stuff them too.

I think I've gone as far as I can with the holiday thing.

Now we've got the people who aren't buying the religions or the 'melt into the great All', or the 'there is no such thing as holidays' stuff. It is one of the savage ironies of life that so many of these people will buy just about anything else. I often think that this is because the great and diverse mind-virus traps that patrol and own the human race require at least a rudimentary bit of mind in order for the virus to take hold in any way other than the utter blither of adamant likey/no likey.

All of these types used to piss me off. They don't any more unless I focus on them. Why would I bother doing that? I hear a lot of people say that the world is a school, that we are here to learn. In my experience, schools are places where creativity is either knocked out of you completely, or forced into narrow channels of expression that those who 'cannot do' deem acceptable. So stuff people who say that too. It's a playground, not a bloody school.

Then there are the Others. These are the only people in whom I have the slightest interest. S***storms can kick up amongst Others, but that's because there's actually something going on, so at least it's interesting. It's all evolution.

Is that everyone sorted out? Goody. Continue.

THE BORDEN COMPANY
Being right since 1969
(Now available in Mirror and Watcher flavours)

[songsfortheotherkind]

The other thing that I remember around my integrity was how my mother used to cover her arse whenever we'd move, which was often because she was always causing major sh!t in her life- I went to 56 different primary schools; she would take me into the headmaster's office and sit there and explain how I was a child prone to to lying and manipulation, and that I was also a clumsy child that was always trying to get attention and that I'd make up outrageous stories in order to get it. She'd then give an example that would happen to be a real one, when I'd told the truth to a teacher about how I'd gotten the bruises on my arms. In later years she'd say that I'd been diagnosed with a personality disorder of some kind or another and that I was never to be trusted.

I'd sit there and experience the gradually darkening expression of the adult my mother was talking to, the hardness of face turned towards me as they'd assure my mother not to worry, they knew just how to deal with that sort of thing. Words cannot describe how my insides would twist in fear and despair.

There was no safe place at all for me in the world of adults and I had no voice against being misrepresented, maligned: I was a kid who tried so f*ucking hard to be whatever was needed to make the pain stop. I tried everything I could, did everything I could, lived in silence and watchfulness, kept my Self deeply hidden- nothing worked. Nothing stopped it until I fought back and slammed my mother repeatedly into a corner energetically. She then left me alone overtly, but covertly started her war behind the scenes. I could never, ever tell what was really happening, could never be sure what ground I was on. I understand that, I understand what it's like to feel on such uncertain ground and it's why I struggle to honor my Self and the other in the space: I simply don't know how yet, not with any degree of grace.

There is never malicious or malign intent- I was the kind of kid who stood in front of my sister when my mother lunged at us with a knife and I really thought I was going to die in that moment. I distracted my mother so that her rage would fall on me instead of my smaller siblings and I was grateful for preventing them from ever getting hit. I'm genuinely not the kind of Being that is interested in anything less than evolution, yet I have never been able to get this aspect to work. I have never been able to make peace with the banshee, either within or without.

As a result of growing up with a banshee I have two ways of Being with others, two places within me that other Beings inhabit: if a Being does not reside in either one of these places then they simply do not ping my sensitive internal web and I am immune to whatever they're doing, thinking or Being. I have an internal set point that delineates the difference between 'I like this Being on some level so I'll let them in' and 'I now really care for this person and I'm aware this means they can hammer the beejums out of me'. Those are my internal markers- the third marker is everyone else, which isn't really a marker as much as an awareness that the individual isn't part of my monkeysphere and therefore I don't have to care about their opinion on any deeper level. There is only so much that I can think about, which is why I have turned away from all the fear porn and bellowing about things I can do nothing about: I have my own transformation to embrace, how can I tell others what to do or how to be?

The challenge of holding my own sui generis while holding that of another that happens to have moved into that inner circle within me- this is the ground, the territory, in which I lose my Self. When an individual gets into my true inner circle, that's when I have experienced my Self getting lost: the confusion around 'what am I supposed to be doing here?' and my sense of jangling uncertainty interconnects with a whole heap of other noise that I struggle with based around a core tenet of 'not ok' that recycles through me when I'm involved- in the true sense of the word, conscious, intentionally connecting and interacting, not just there in body- with another Being. These Beings that actually get my attention in the first place are rare and deeply powerful in my life: it's the ones that carry the banshee in their signal that are the ones that I flounder with. They are the ones I am profoundly drawn to because that part of me wants to heal and be whole: instead I find my Self drawn into a dance that I've never mastered.



It's so easy for me to slide and chameleon who I am, I started before the age of seven and it's first response for me- only I don't really want to do that anymore, or at least until I discover if it's a legitimate way of Being for me. That one I'm not yet sure about. I'm looking at this more carefully now, tracing out the patterns with careful fingers, watching what it is that I do: I sense a tremor of some kind within the web around me and I look for what is going to make me invisible, or accommodating- anything to keep from shattering the connection and the resultant confusion this creates in me.

I don't know how to focus on my own Signal and have all the gates open to another- there seems to be a fundamental glitch in that process for me because a creeping sense of disconnect becomes present, as if on some level I'm only pretending connection and it's all really still just coming from an innate ability to mimic emotion while not really having any sense of being able to connect with another. I've asked the question many times- what is connection? What is intimacy?- but the answers have been so enmeshed within either a spiritual or human philosophy and experience that I could never find any truly satisfactory signal to map from, which leaves me to struggle through the process of finding my own.



At the core of it all, none of what I went through has left me without that which I came in with- my Shine, my essence, my instinctive understanding of sui generis even if I only truly started developing the language in the past year; I have the memory systems I was born with, of ancient worlds and my own history in the 'Verse, my experience of the Otherrealms and slidey multiverses that I have disappeared into and walked through. It's all part of my Self, the me that I had and lost and fought so long and so hard to rebuild, searching in all the hidden corners of my internal landscape for the fragments and pieces while trying to put on a face to the world that would let the worst of the noise pass me by.

I have struggled with the echoes of the virus in my head, shrieking and bansheeing me into near madness in the early days, pushing me over the edge on a few occasions and into the abyss, where I would fall for so long in the dark, folded over my flickering light, mind drawn down to a pinprick of concentration and unspeakable mantra, only able to focus on that tiny point of light within until gradually I would fall right back into the place that I had left. I have reborn and reborn and recreated my Self from the ashes again and again, each time a little more refined, a little more in possession of my Shine, willing to keep going and embracing and expanding into the space, despite having no clue if it's going to be any better than before. I used to despise that quality in me, that willingness to risk immolation for the sake of what the possibility of connection holds out to me; now I embrace it, have put it in my box of treasures and value it highly because it is part of my fundamental nature, part of the vehicle by which I evolve.




I cannot claim to be unbroken and so I never say that I am: I know that I experience the glitches and clunk that comes from having had to rebuild my Self from scratch, with only instinct and intuition to guide me. I am pieces that have been put back together with nothing but the great heart of a lone dreamer, nothing but a vision of something that I could never tell for sure was of a past or a future, but that inspired and called to me nonetheless. I have scars and brokenness still, yet what radiates from the cracks is my Shine, with every molecule I can muster, with every expansion of my heart.

I am not perfect and I know I never will be- I don't want to be, there's no evolution in that and I have no desire to be redundant. I know now that I've been afraid all my life of being rejected for being my Self, the faint echoes of old curses ringing in my ears spewed by a jealous and venomous woman who couldn't stand her Self. I have walked alone in that world for most of my life, unable to adequately communicate the visions and knowing that I have, separated by the chasm between the worlds that I naturally live within and without and the frightening consensus reality that swarmed around me.

I'm gathering up my trembling courage and looking for something greater than what I've had in the past. I want to be loved for my Self, for my integrity and bravery and my willingness to get up again and again as long as the consciousness and communication is there; I want to be Seen for who I really am, horns, wings and whatever else I choose to create my Self into, my slidey worlds and unbounded possibilities.

I know that the girl who stood her ground in the face of the banshee, who crept out of her room in the small hours of the morning to write music on the piano, who danced when no-one was watching, who laughed behind her hand at the world despite the scars, who still dreams and visions, who is willing to open up to life again and again, who rode her motorbike up the cliff and sat at the top grinning, who mostly still doesn't have a clue and is willing to do things anyway- that girl is me still, wide eyed and full of Shine. I am willing to live into that, and find out how to love her better every day. I have no idea if that's going to work for anyone else in the long run- perhaps the best that I can hope for is a series of Beings who want to play in the dance with me for awhile and then whirl off into the darkness again- and I know that loving my Self is what remains. So I'm scared, and that's nothing new, and I'm willing to do it anyway.







Viva la dance.

*sideways eyed grinning*

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by Borden (here)

Then there are the Others. These are the only people in whom I have the slightest interest. S***storms can kick up amongst Others, but that's because there's actually something going on, so at least it's interesting. It's all evolution.

Is that everyone sorted out? Goody. Continue.

THE BORDEN COMPANY
Being right since 1969
(Now available in Mirror and Watcher flavours)

The Mirror and Watcher flavours was the very best bit.

[songsfortheotherkind]

Well, that's my personal effort on the 'Making the Pub Patron's Eyeballs Fall Out' for today.

*lies face down on the floor, limp spaghetti arms trailing towards the keyboard*

Here, have some music, and I'll have a glass of something designed to drop kick my mind into another dimension. Ooooh, look, there it is... water...

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fC_q9KPczAg

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by Borden (here)

The hardcore yogis seem to think that by not thinking, and by meditating on the fact that this reality is an illusion, they are going to transcend it. Hmm. That's a bit like going on holiday and spending the whole time in the hotel room trying to phone home. They seem to think they've come on holiday by mistake. They all look like miserable old wet weekends too. Strangely, they do tend to use room service quite a lot, and that's where the followers often come in.

The followers leave the hotel but only go to the tourist places and eat in restaurants that cater to people like them from wherever they are. They don't see the place they are in. They only see somewhere that is safely like home but with foreign people in it, unusual buildings to gawp at, and quaint anomalies in the otherwise very familiar restaurant menu.

The reason the yogi types used to piss me off is that this world is and always has been a virus lockdown, and if they're going to do something different, then it probably shouldn't be just an alternative version of magnificently missing the point. The big religions have already got everything stitched up there. The big religions focus on the concept that where you are is no f***ing holiday, but when you do finally get a holiday, it will be incredibly long, and it will either be somewhere really incredibly fab, or somewhere really unpleasant and hot. This choice of destination is dictated by what a good, unquestioning little worker you can be.

Then you've got the reductionist brigade who think that corporate-engineered lab funding constitutes the length and breadth of all that is. They wouldn't know what true science was if it reversed over them. As wave or particle. They don't even believe in the existence of holidays. So stuff them too.

I think I've gone as far as I can with the holiday thing.

Now we've got the people who aren't buying the religions or the 'melt into the great All', or the 'there is no such thing as holidays' stuff. It is one of the savage ironies of life that so many of these people will buy just about anything else. I often think that this is because the great and diverse mind-virus traps that patrol and own the human race require at least a rudimentary bit of mind in order for the virus to take hold in any way other than the utter blither of adamant likey/no likey.

All of these types used to piss me off. They don't any more unless I focus on them. Why would I bother doing that? I hear a lot of people say that the world is a school, that we are here to learn. In my experience, schools are places where creativity is either knocked out of you completely, or forced into narrow channels of expression that those who 'cannot do' deem acceptable. So stuff people who say that too. It's a playground, not a bloody school.

Then there are the Others. These are the only people in whom I have the slightest interest. S***storms can kick up amongst Others, but that's because there's actually something going on, so at least it's interesting. It's all evolution.

Is that everyone sorted out? Goody. Continue.

THE BORDEN COMPANY
Being right since 1969
(Now available in Mirror and Watcher flavours)

There is so much win in this.

The hardcore yogis seem to think that by not thinking, and by meditating on the fact that this reality is an illusion, they are going to transcend it. Hmm. That's a bit like going on holiday and spending the whole time in the hotel room trying to phone home. They seem to think they've come on holiday by mistake. They all look like miserable old wet weekends too. Strangely, they do tend to use room service quite a lot, and that's where the followers often come in.

I have at least a dozen images of various miserable old wet weekends currently scrolling through my head... *smorfling*

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by Zebra (here)
I am so tired but I had to read this post Songs. I have just returned from the battleground out there on another thread that is so full of the virus, it has exhausted me .. and I wonder why I bother.

I no longer bother- I am choosing my Clan and those with whom I wish to share the process of shedding the virus, I'm focusing on creating and exploring the sui generis world here with Beings that I am willing to open to because, as rough and tumultuous as it sometimes might be, I have seen the beauty in the process here and this is what I want.

Thank you for this latest writing, truly, I am nourished here.

You take care
Big hugs, Z xox

I never cease to be genuinely amazed that my blibbling has any value. *bows* I am glad that it does.

[Mad Hatter]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG GHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry just needed somewhere to get that of my chest.... resume normal programming (whatever that is)

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by Mad Hatter (here)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG GHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry just needed somewhere to get that of my chest.... resume normal programming (whatever that is)

Ah, been out in the main forum, have we? Found the screaming room there, I see- I'm glad I built that.

:D

[another bob]

Dear Songs, deep gratitude for sharing your past and process here! You've been given a terrific test/challenge to overcome in this life cycle, but that can also provide the circumstance for greatness to be forged, as is evident in your "signal" today. I don't want to dilute your gift with more words, but one does come to mind -- forgiveness.

[another bob]

Posted by Borden (here)
The hardcore yogis seem to think that by not thinking, and by meditating on the fact that this reality is an illusion, they are going to transcend it. Hmm. That's a bit like going on holiday and spending the whole time in the hotel room trying to phone home. They seem to think they've come on holiday by mistake. They all look like miserable old wet weekends too. Strangely, they do tend to use room service quite a lot, and that's where the followers often come in.

Yes, wonderful example!

It's a playground, not a bloody school.

I don't know what it is, because every time I thought I figured out what it is, I found out it wasn't that either, so now I don't try to name or tame or blame it. I just let it be whatever it is, and if I have to say anything at all, I just say, "Glory to That!"

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by another bob (here)
I don't want to dilute your gift with more words, but one does come to mind -- forgiveness.

I am one of those Beings for whom 50 or 500 or 50000 possibilities arise when the parameters are left that wide and I'm learning that the first thing I have to do is ask specifics so that I know the perspective- so did you say that with a particular perspective and idea in mind? Are you meaning for me to take it in a particular context- in which case, could you specify that because it's too wide open for me to know what one you are intending me to get- or are you using it in the endless sense of applying it right through the entire signal of everything that I can hold in my space? This is where I'd naturally go, and I'm learning that this is often not what the individual is intending.

I'm struggling right now because of a painful disconnect in my life. I'm trying to work my way through it without either losing my Self or being bamfoozled by the virus. It's looking disgustingly inelegant and I'm a hag. The temptation is there to just chuck the whole thing, shut down and admit defeat but I'm just not built that way: what I'm built for is joy and dance, but I'm beginning to wonder if that is a solitary thing for me. Even that doesn't work though, because I know I need the Mirror to really see anything.

Fail all round! Excellent. I'm moving into new levels of evolution, then.

[another bob]

Posted by songsfortheotherkind (here)

Posted by another bob (here)
I don't want to dilute your gift with more words, but one does come to mind -- forgiveness.

...are you using it in the endless sense of applying it right through the entire signal of everything that I can hold in my space?

Yes, exactly. One of the main "knowings" I returned to this human consciousness with was this: Forgive everybody everything. I myself have needed to delve deeper and deeper into the many layers of implications of that, and it only makes increasing sense as I do. Blessings to you, my Sister!

[Calz]

Posted by songsfortheotherkind (here)


The Pub has become my Clan. I actually am head of a legally recognised Clan in real life, in which I am known as the Phoenix, the one who keeps the evolution going by being able to rise from her own ashes again and again. It's a deeply spiritual and power calling and I resisted it for the longest time; I don't resist it any more, it's just how it is and it's part of my sui generis.

Clan is an intimate thing for me. I have recognised that the connection and revealing that happens within Clan works for me because of the multiversal nature of my Being; within a group there is less possibility of being mindf*ucked, of having oily slitherin' pull its tricks in the midst of blind spots and emotional black holes. Within an intimate group there is the sense of having more than one someone at my back: knowing the virus the way that I do, I fully get how it can mess with individuals when they are in deep connection with each other and having more eyes watching the dynamics makes so much sense to me. I get it all the time in the energetic and Other realms; in contrast the societal and psychological isolations here cause me to feel like I'm constantly stumbling through the matrix blinded.

Aside from a deep appreciation for such a deep soul level expression of yourself not only in words but complementary images ... it's hard for me to find any words.

Even donning Mad Hatter's Expression of Anguish Hat ...

I can only offer images in honor of your warrior spirit.

May the Phoenix always continue to ascend from the ashes ...

[Calz]

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by another bob (here)
Yes, exactly. One of the main "knowings" I returned to this human consciousness with was this: Forgive everybody everything. I myself have needed to delve deeper and deeper into the many layers of implications of that, and it only makes increasing sense as I do. Blessings to you, my Sister!

See, I have strange experiences with the way the idea of forgiveness is used here in this paradigm because everything is subjective- even the idea of forgiveness can be used as a weapon and virus vehicle- but then I'm beginning to see a great many things that I haven't been willing or able to see before. I'm riding one of the fastest and most tumultuous processing storms I've ever had in my life and if I had the space I'd simply record it and talk it out, but I don't so this is the next best thing.

I'm taking out the rest of the response here and turning it into a post of its own- at the time I was writing it I thought that you might think I was writing it about your comment and it seems that this was a good intuition. No impuning anything to your perspective or view, dear man, it's all where *my* head goes.

Thank you for gently showing me the invisible line.

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by Calz_Avaretard (here)
Aside from a deep appreciation for such a deep soul level expression of yourself not only in words but complementary images ... it's hard for me to find any words.

Even donning Mad Hatter's Expression of Anguish Hat ...

I can only offer images in honor of your warrior spirit.

May the Phoenix always continue to ascend from the ashes ...

Calz, you say-and have said- such nice things to me sometimes and I never really know what to say to it, particularly at the moment when it feels like I'm just vomiting process all over the Pub and I'm not even sure that's ok; the only reason I'm continuing to do it is because I have chosen my Clan and this is it. I don't know if it's ok to choose others without their consent, so I'm figuring that if individuals have an issue with it they'll express that one way or another; I'm not trying to tell others who, what or how to be, or even insisting that they have to accept me, I'm just being my Self. I'm leaving others to work out how they want to be with that.

Right now, I feel more





than any of the pics you've posted, and thank you for the kinder images and reflection of me than what I currently choose and have. I really love that you did that.

I process faster than I write; by the time one thing has been posted I've moved on to the next 23 levels so I figure I'll be hitting the good evolutionary stuff at some point soon- right now I'm just getting the mess out of the way. I figure if we don't know how to be messy with each other, we'll suck at getting a handle on deep level sui generis. That's how it feels to me atm anyway.

*sideways smile at you* That image of the blue girl with the nose ring- that's exactly the same kind of ring I have in mine these days.