Thursday, August 31, 2017

Hurricane Harvey?

This is weird.

"There's a storm coming, Mr. Wayne"

"Some people just want to watch the world burn"

I wonder -- 

was the weather manipulated for this one? 

Or I just knew subconsciously this was going to be an extra dose or three of bad news? 


Not sayin', just sayin'...

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

David Bowie Andy Warhol Lyrics

It's funny how someone with Asperger's Syndrome (a form of autism, where it's hard to read human facial expressions/emotion) had a pretty strong grasp of human psychology and behavior. 

His variations on a theme, his fascination with mass production and how the subject matter was interchangeable with human beings may have been misunderstood.  Instead of objectifying his subjects,  his way of seeing seemed to be about taxonomies of persona- variations on a theme of the strikingly similar ways people who are programmed with backgrounds that are less than savory react to their environments.

I always saw his work as deeply compassionate.
Here were a bunch of messed up people yearning to be seen. The neglected, from the poor little rich girls to the most destitute and strung out of prostitutes and drag queens. He didn't care. He didn't individuate. He may have been in some cases, the ONLY person who "saw" them clearly. And they would have done anything for him because of that.
 (This is how cults are formed, kiddies. Be careful with that.) 

Unfortunately, trauma creates pretty predictable behaviors of self-destruction, compulsion, addiction, and in worse case scenarios, personality disorders. 

In spite of that, he didn't judge. He let everyone in. A lot of damaged people in.  
Which eventually would be to his detriment when, on June 4th, 1968, a disgruntled and severely mentally ill playwright by the name of Valerie Solanas entered his Union Square studio and shot him point blank with a .22 revolver. 

He survived, but according to reports, was never the same again. 
The observer became the traumatized, paranoid subject.

(If you want to see how much of a miracle it was that he survived, here is the incredible medical account: )

Observing and understanding are not the same thing as processing. His downfall was ironically the same thing that allowed him to see so clearly, without judgement. 

We must develop healthy boundaries. We must individuate. And why it's up to the individual to not judge the person, but the behavior,  is up to us individually to do if we choose to do that. (I personally do.) But in addition to that, we must see, feel, process and protect our most precious gifts 
***and not let anyone walk all over them***.




Sunday, August 20, 2017

Rick Levine: This Eclipse Will Be "The Performance of Our Lives"

Another fiery Aries Astrologer, this time from the Bronx. Sell it, Rick:


Don't React. Act. On yourself. Do not react to simpletons who refuse or who can't, won't or don't look at cycles and patterns. They will remain in arrogance because they WANT to. Because they CAN'T. Because they DON'T HAVE THE ABILITY to see any other way other than their own. 

Do not attempt to convert denial. You can't. Denial puffs its chest up, staunch defender of all trauma wounds. 

Hell, people in denial positively make it their glory, their coronation, their Crown. 

Do not defend, negotiate with, or treat with unique deference holy terrors. 
They don't deserve your beauty.



Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Do you really want to know?

Look, you have monopolized this blog and my videos for years now, and I think it's time to stop. I know you are obsessed with me, and this is tiresome. Your abuse, neglect, and then coming to me flooding me with love energy (and more) is really weird. It has no boundaries. You need to step back.

I will tell you the following IF YOU LEAVE ME ALONE and let me do what I need to in order to facilitate a meeting. But you'd better behave or else. Do you know HOW MANY PEOPLE have warned me against you? HOW MANY? Even people of loose to no morals? I mean, we're talking basically everyone. "Stay away from this one, he's filled with danger and could hurt you." "Could"??? 

"Neurotic compulsion" or no. Do you think I don't know what you've done? 

Do you WANT a laundry list of what I know and haven't said squat about?

Do you really?


- I didn't say anything about the possession until recently.

- I didn't mention the HUGE, heart-stoppingly awful Real Estate deal gone bad. Where you lost tons of money. Bad. Not good. Maybe a blowback?

- I didn't say anything about your impregnation fetish (that I knew about long before that hilarious book came out).

- I didn't say anything about the subsequent miscarriage she had as a result. First four months? (Do you honestly think 16% body fat is going to hold a fetus? Please. You go on and on about the health hazards of obesity, but what about the other end? Wigger, please. Not to mention she knew you gave her bad seed. Mothers know this stuff about the father. Sometimes the children are not born for this reason alone. IT IS NOT TIME and all that.)

- She was a karmic partner. She was not your "love". She was your daughter in a past life. Do you think someone with the personality of cardboard is capable of having emotional intelligence? Especially since she's only lived SIX LIVES??? No. No. This is not a thing. This is not, nor will it ever be a thing. You may go back to her for the sex (ew), but no. None of you/neither of you are a fit. At all. You know this. I know this. Jesus Christ I wish you could keep me out of it entirely, as it's so consumingly depressing and juvenile, but alas, NO. I couldn't escape your energy field if my life depended on it. 

The scenario:

You were a trapper/hunter in what is now Switzerland. 980 AD. You lived in the Swiss Alps by a mountain. Snowy most of the year. She is in your chalet or shack or whatever you call it. 9 years old. Strawberry blonde or red hair. In plaits. In a trundle wooden alpine bed. Designs of flowers and vines carved on the sides. Pretty, snug little stone and wood wall room. A candle burning. She is asleep, sitting upright as was the custom of the time. 

As she sleeps, an avalanche. She is buried under tons of stone and snow and dirt. Immediately. You are just returning from an all-night hunt, you wear fur pelts as a kind of covering or jacket. You see the avalanche happening. There is nothing you can do to stop it. And she dies. Instantly.

I was her indifferent mother who left the family when she was 8 or 9. About 3-6 months before it happened. I never wanted children, was indifferent to the birthing process in that lifetime, didn't really care about motherhood. It happens. We have all been saints, we have all been sinners. But in that lifetime I was an indifferent mother who just upped and left one day. Oh well.

You stayed. Still licking your wounds over that. You attempted to go about life, business as usual. (You still do that, do you- your resentments towards women can be traced to a number of lifetimes, like this one. Reserve all your hate for me if you want, but at least I never POSSESSED someone.) 

You maintained a facade of normalcy "for the children". There may have been a boy as well, but for some reason I don't see him there- he is either playing/staying with another kid/friend's family or is not there at that moment for some reason. He is not with you as well. May have disappeared into the wilderness, but he is not there present in that lifetime at that minute. 

You witness the entire thing. The natural disaster. She has unconsciously been trying to figure that out in the handful/few lifetimes she has existed. 

That is why she places herself at the center of tragedy- to try and understand it. But she is still young, karmically speaking. 

She weeps- but knows no inner knowing. She has no wisdom. Merely a witness to tragedy, both large and small.

She maintains that she has a humanitarian heart, but really it is to solve the mystery. Of time. Of her existence. Even though she doesn't believe any of this "shit", she would believe that she is trying to process it all. 

And it begins with that lifetime. One of her first. Maybe first or second one in existence. A gnat, really, in terms of experience on the planet. Not like you. Not like me. 

A girl. Not a woman. Not healthy, not healing. She unconsciously is involved with a kind of karmic repression because the trauma of dying so young still infuses her with a kind of "survival" spirit. But she does not know. She doesn't know anything. She is a traumatized rag doll in full-blown repetition compulsion. And that sucks. 

No room for healing, just unconsciously living out her daydream over and over again... this lifetime a war baby and a Tsunami, yes? Oh well. She can't save anyone with that daydream.

You have also lived many, MANY lifetimes where you have felt duty-bound, an obligation to save women. Not just any. Many. Legions of women: from peril, from slavery, from doubt. Their savior. You NEED women. Like you need blood. Life. Women. Indifferent. Women.

I am holding on to these lifetimes and maybe will tell you about them. I am in at least one of them. Spain. No reason why you like that country so much, eh? Or me?

Your need for slavery, men, women to bow to your every whim: that is tied in with repetition compulsion. An act reserved for compulsive men. You might want to look into compulsion. Religion. Diablo Cody, the screenwriter, did an interview with Marc Maron on his podcast "WTF" and stated that Catholicism actually gave her a clinical diagnosis as a child of OCD. She said she was obsessed with being a Catholic as a child and that it literally gave her OCD and she was on medication for it. Eventually she healed herself, but it was rough. Look up the interview if you like, it's very good.

You might want to look into religion. Compulsion. Novenas. Genuflection. Rosaries. Magical Thinking. The obsessive compulsive actitivites of being told "All your sins are washed away if you do the religious equivalent of checking the doorknob 26- no wait, 27, no wait 29, no wait 113 times a day to see if it is locked". Not good. For man or religion.

And I know, I KNOW: You consider yourself someone who loathes the Catholic Church. Or no? But look into RELIGION Compulsion. Sin factories. "If you do this, then this" reward system that screws so many of your ilk up. It has, in a fashion.

You are a Sin Eater. One who eats sin. But you also have a Compulsion for Soul Eating. Thank "Your God" Aleister Crowley for that. The Bastard. I don't like that. Nor do I abide by that. 

You try anything like that, you set the lair for anything resembling that, and it's repetition compulsion for you a million times zero. You Get nothing, Bro. Y'hear me? Nothing. Nada. 

Heal the repetition compulsion. Heal it. 

Or else. 

(Just speaking your early childhood development language, Brah! My way or the highway, etc.! Language you understand! And loathe!)

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

It's Not Time.

I know you recently said "I'm going to make it so easy for you (to meet with me)". 



There is an unfolding for this.

And this is not it. 

You need to see, you need to examine your need to, oh, I dunno, possess me with the demon Azazel. 

That was very interesting, by the way, but not needed and completely egregious.

 I started speaking Arabic. I don't speak Arabic. 

This is not a party trick, and I am not a bug for you to examine under a magnifying glass. 

You need to examine your motives. You need to examine yourself. 


Otherwise, you'll just repeat the same behavior again. Throw this one down the trash chute too.

Waste another time/place/person. Waste your time. And mine.


You have all the time in the world. 

Except you don't.


I am not a drug.

I don't have time for this.

Fellow Traveler. 

Please Grow up.

You're having a great time.

But there is no time.

Except it is the right time. When it is.

It's all about Time.

You said this. 



You see what I'm sayin'?

Big Boy?

Love, Mama