jim was a mystical fellow, and he is from venice beach, which is where i frequent not enough. the denizens there are quirky street musicians and artists...jim meet the drummer from the doors there on venice beach. at night, jim would sleep on top of the buildings, i guess because he was poor. he was originally from coronado, a navy base town, where his father was an officer. jim was as black a sheep as they come....
a giant mural of jim gazes down benignly at the tourists and street performers.... a faint whiff of weed smoke drifts in the air....head shops and tattoo parlors blast rock music to the moving throngs of humanity.... sun glinted bodies stroll casually by the t shirt and sandal shops..smelling of coconut oil and hiding behind dark mirrored sunglasses to look fathomless and healthy Cali beach style...
i tried to find the postings i had made on facebook about jim so i could add them to my blog, but i have so many postings there and my computer is too old...a couple of times comes to mind....i was talking about jim morrison one day on facebook, maybe even posting the video LA Woman....and right after i was looking on my newsfeed there. i get thousands of postings on my facebook newsfeed, because i have a myriad of interests...well, after i posted the video, i found a comment someone had posted about jim and a quote he made about being mystical....i commented on it on facebook to date and time stamp |
then, a few days ago i was posting a comment he had made, and as i was re reading it, the word individual came from my tv as i was reading the exact same word....in the comment jim was making, he was saying that each person has his or her own INDIVIDUAL awakening to the higher spheres....so now when i note a word that pops out at me now, i try and write it down here on my blog....
and then, just around that time, i found some videos of his poetry on youtube. i found this poem and realized i had read that poem as a teen, and had drawn a picture of a giant genie, with me lying sleeping in his hand, and the poem i had written on the picture....i didn't know at the time who wrote that poem, and then when i found that video, i realized it is jim morrison's poem ghost song, the poem i had not seen since a young teen....strange....so synchronistic.....
AWAKE!!!!
~shake dreams from your hair~
choose the day's divinity
I had a splitting headache from which the future's made |
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a vast radiant beach |
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laugh like soft mad children at play |
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the ancient ones dance to the primal beat |
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i hear my own inner music |
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choose they croon, beneath the moon besides the ancient lake |
so hard to be a lover with no one to love~~~~
i have to love myself. i have to........
i love the really last part of this song...thank you Lord for the white blinding light
of clarity. white gold iridescent light of illumination
Carl Jung had a theory on the universal mind...collective unconscious...it is real. why wouldn't it be? people live too grounded in their day to day and monotonous suffering...either u are noting but a pile of flesh and bone and organic computer brain, that dies and rots and ceases to exist, or u have an entity inside u that begs for the light of understanding....why are we the experiment? what have we to prove to the Universe? why can't we blossom past our on organic needs? why do we let our egos win? if there is no such thing as divinity and the specialness of our HUMAN race...why are we here? to what means? maybe arthur c clarke had it right....
the early sci fi writers were tuned in to what is going on, or maybe it is cosmic consciousness? why is it arthur c clarke, jules verne, h.g. wells, isaac asimov, gene roddenberry, ray bradbury, harlan ellison, etc.....why is it some of our technology was pretty much predicted in their books? these men were thinkers and scientists as well as artists and writers. when you pop the cork, so to speak and let illumination in, your creativity can flow....time is not chronological....it is an endless stream...so why wouldn't it over lap on itself? i hear things that has already been said before. we get ideas that is passed on through all of us filters...our brains are antennae to pick up esoteric thoughts....i go with the flow as i type this....that is what artists do...think like an artist...feel emotions like a dancer, be grateful for your living thinking moving body~temple....decorate it with postive thoughts and creative works...honor your soul and stay tapped to God...these things i write i don't think about much...it all comes out....i go with the flow.....i on my newseed on facebook not an hour ago, how being creative feeds your brain and nourishes it and keeps it young......it stiffens and starts to die just like other organs, if not used properly...that is why i am tired of taking psych meds for some many years. i feel wizened and shriveled from all the mixtures of medications coursing through my head....i really feel as if i am dying slowly, and so i try to write and try to exercise some and try to go out sometimes. it is a battle to want to stay alive...i have told my doc that....that i am done with this life and just waiting to move on from this meat suit....i am gonna let my friends maybe read this blog one day, but it shames me. i feel so embarassed....,mortified.....i hide now...i would run to ground then!!! i send warrior angels to protect me and keep me safe....
gad, she's gone round the bleedin twist!
black dog black dog where did you come from...why you want to smother me with your big dark eyes?
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