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I Dreamed I Was A Daughter Of The Moon

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I asked him, "What am I?"

He said I was a moth.

I asked him why I couldn't be a butterfly (I had always been a butterfly), but he said he didn't know.

I desperately wanted to make love to him, and I wanted to be made love to.

But he was a human and I was a moth.

A strange and frustrating thing.

So I hovered and fluttered around his neck as he led me up the stairs, and when he felt my winged kisses, he, too, was aroused.

He knew I was trespassing.

I knew he was forbidden.

I wasn't allowed to join him here, and not in this way, to be sure.

But these were not our rules.

They were not of our making.

Least of all, sane.

These rules belonged to the others.

The dim and unaware.

They did not apply to those whose sights transcended their limits.

They did not apply to creatures like he and I.

Our connection was strong.

Tenderly overwhelming.

We were destined to merge.

Our goal: become one.

And being that he was already a part of that world, while secretly being a part of mine, he cared enough to take me where I didn't belong.

He was privy to the path.

They'd never suspect a thing.

They'd only suspect me - the moth - a tender loving thing.

He looked like the others but to them, I was strange.

For being what I was.

For wanting what I want.

For going where they would not dare.

But he understood.

I only wanted to go higher.

I wanted to know more.

And I wanted him in his entirety.

He did not question my intentions.

He knew they were pure.

He did not question our differences because he knew we were the same.

He knew what I was, and what I was, was his.

He knew better than to hinder what he, too, desired for himself.

He conspired to make it happen.

And what mattered most is that he let me love him.

Let me touch him.

Let me follow this wild dream.

And I could not have been more grateful.

After holding back for what felt like an eternity,

with the whole universe pulsating within me,

I had nowhere to go but beyond all I'd ever known.

I desired him with a vengeance.

To devour every bit that I could.

I hungered for our union before reality woke us up.

Small as I was, my presence was known and felt.

My being was needed and craved.

And my touch turned him into mine as I sought to taste the places where he'd feel me the most deeply.

He, the human.

Me, the moth.

We, the illuminated.

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Originally written and publicly shared in 2016.

And yes, this was an actual dream I had about a fellow at the time.

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Clean + Dirty Narc (An Essay)

in , ,

The ‘narcissist’ is the inversion of truth.

They are a void.

But not a clean one.

The void is compensatory.

They don’t care about you.

But not in a clean way.

The lack of care is compensatory.

They are selfish.

But not in a clean way.

The selfishness is compensatory.

They use things and others.

But not in a clean way.

Their using is compensatory.

And…

when someone IS a clean void

when someone truly doesn’t care (about illusions / matter / appearances / the false, self-victimized you)

when someone IS ‘selfish’ (self-sourced / unwavering / in energetic integrity / true move-making, regardless of others)

when someone uses ALL things and people (to sharpen, to erect, to deepen and purify)

they appear narcissistic

to those still bound by themselves

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Stop Feeding It (An Essay)

in , , , , , , ,

You starve it by not feeding it.

Inwardly, that’s what you do.

“The ignored guest quickly leaves.”

So give it no reason to stay.

You can entertain the chaos.

The insanity.

The mind.

Go into the depths of hell.

Then post about your dark night.

Tell others about that ‘necessary’ initiation.

The ‘generational trauma’ that ‘lives in your bones’.

Be commended on your strength for ‘facing the beast’.

(aka enduring yourself at the hands of yourself and calling it by another name)

Sure, you can do that.

But you could also not.

You feed the pain because you get off on it.

When you’re done getting off,

it’s gone.

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The Denser It Gets (An Essay)

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when you perpetually self-abandon

the denser it gets

and when you do this over an extended period of time

that density

that was once only energetic

becomes matter

becomes ‘illness’ (both mental and physical)

because your system was not designed for such a deviation

it was designed to let you know all you need to know

to remain clean and intact

forevermore

so when you choose to ignore that knowing

over and over and over again

your brilliant system will turn up the volume until it just can’t be ignored

until you have no choice but to honour what you know and have always known

so even your ‘sickness’ (both mental and physical)

is still your system being brilliant as fuck

it never fails you

even when you ‘fail’ (deny) yourself

it speaks to you

for as long as it takes

until you finally listen

and choose to obey

and once you do

the ‘sickness’ dissolves

because it only arose

to point the way home

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If You Really Love Me (An Essay)

in , , , , , ,

Most would rather have another cater / adapt to their dysfunction(s) / delusion(s) than to do the work necessary to correct it themselves.

And most would rather do that for another,

to avoid their own discomfort

of having to take that same level of responsibility

for their own deficiencies.

#letsstaysmalltogether

#fillinthegapsifyouloveme

#thatswhattheycalllove

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