Saturday, February 19, 2005

From anks computer, o bigode, Daisymali

dickson's heavy churches. buildings. whoomph, indestructible, the
others
are like, made out of cardboard, i mean...

{Daisy, taking over the keyboard, interjecting nonsense, childish
babble,
into my profundity, typed this: espeg jzdth dcar ran out the streset
daning with md feet. nd then the man was thinking such stange thoughts
about the beauty of touching another person and oveing them sooo
osoooooo
muc}

...just take the building cornering the church we were looking at when
he
(dickson) shared his heavy church thoughts, its this long candy pink
thing
thatll fall
timbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. damn the man, dont let the
man
get you down.

yeah, so ok, but then here's the doozy, for me at least. dickson is
telling me about this heavy church thing while morphing massing
sections
of human beans are flowing past, a rep from each section hands me a
flyer
(funny, why do i take it, i never take flyers, save the trees and
whatnot)
sharing their path to salvation. mobile transitory carbon based live
churches. elemental. heaviness towers up around, lightness swims past,
licking every corner. god is contained and yet uncontrollably volatile
flowatile

and so i decided to start my lucy (lucy fer?) trip looking up through
the
line of energy of the cross on the church that we have postcard
memories
of.

and then god called on the cellular.

wtf?

my headspace is used to connecting religion with puritanism. carnaval
shows me, tis not so. disconnect myself. reconnect in revolutionary
space.
grow a moustache, in the town of the transvestite priest.

someones on the phone. its my mom and dad. not god. more than in god.
because god and goddess are contained in my mother and father. i go
now,
daisy will take over.

when we were young, so very long ago, we all thought that space was all
there was. the space did not end. and then we learned that there were
borders, edges, containers...boxes, if you will. the space was
sub-divided, cortado, pieced out into little bits and smidgens of
things
and beings and willingnesses to be contained. all that there is, it
fits
into different sorts of beingspaces. spaces for being, but being in
different manners and ways and means and doings. except that some of us
long to cross these borders, traverse these edges, and spill out of
these
containers, running and flowing our many different colors into the
other
potholes of being and comingling into different hues and shades and
tones
that vibrate with multifaceted being and exist in multiple colorspaces.
our heads yearn to rap around into varied brainspaces. and our loves
yearn
to expand into all of the desirespaces of the universe, allowing the
light
of love to give us energy that fills up all of our cellbeings, each and
every kind of differentiated unit. when we were young, we knew
inherently
that this was possible. then we learned about the containers and forgot
the wisdom, and replaced it with knowing. forget what you learned. you
can
be it all. you are the universe. thou art god.

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