twirling thoughts from a howling heart…

wow, today the snakes of powerlessness spout geysers into my heart, hissing their poisonous chants through the weather of my mind, and i fell again…i fell fast and yet calmly too…watching myself fall, knowing that what i am telling myself is a lie…and that what i feel is just…scared.  scared of more disappointment. scared of making the wrong decisions.  scared of people i love dying.  scared of the moment it all goes away.  but mostly, scared that i will fail myself.  i see the silliness in this, for part of my heart is at peace with the madness of biological conditioning and what that makes the brain tell the heart as a direct result…it aint nothin’ more than that, honey.  i am living the myth, and re-writing it, as i watch the one from the past play over and over.  i’ve got to release this karma once and for all.  tired of the same scripts, different actors.  newness is a sun rising within my pink fingertips.  i can believe in myself.  i am allowed to have an earthly life.  i am not destined to be only a healer-trauma-recycling machine for the human collective.  i took off my blue robe and dove naked into the cold autumn sea.  when i got to the underworld, hades was gone.  i don’t let him call me persephone anymore.  those old dried up seeds have scattered like dandelion fuzz.  i got this.  this is what change looks like.  true success.  rebirth.  all the while, doubt and confidence having this sort of…tennis match in my feelings.  krishna das songs continue to be nightly and morning medicine, the two pillars on my left and right.  cried last night, silently into a small round mirror.  called out to baba.  he made me remember it’s about being right here in the now, through a conversation with somebody about iowaska and dmt not being spiritual experiences.  baba also made me see how calm i fall now, when i slipped between the couch and chair, onto my butt, without shock…softly.  this is the scorpio new moon.  on a lighter note, i am sick of this shit, really.  i really am.  healing shmealing.  blah blah blah.  i want to make beer, ride in a canoe, write a new book, paint to loud music, and be simple.  the new character is birthing, she is different than me, and yet so similar.  not sure of her name yet. not sure of myself.  perhaps i will always be a tour guide of the dark side, and i shall always connect the internal dots and correspond them to the external experiences.  maybe i will always be drenched in stones, too.  why am i not the sex slave?  why am i not being killed ruthlessly? why am i not scrounging for food?  why is my sanity in tact?   i’ve been to all those destination spots in human form, though not in this life.  so many lives…the have and have-not, continually changing….variety of experiences parading…next of kin impregnating…being an individual until death do we part….dreams: the water of oneness, living as a snowflake self.  fierce wind blew dead leaves around tonight, while i handed out chocolate to kids from a basket.  one girl, maybe about six or seven, said to me, “i bet you cringe every time one of us comes in here, i know i would.”  she was referring to the worry that something is about to smash and break every time a small child comes stomping unaware through the door in a mask, wanting candy.  how’s that for a living metaphor, spoken from a kid after my own heart?  oh life, i love how you speak with me…