Eris Dear. We’ve Been A Long Time In Oz

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‘It was a piss take at first you know?’ she was gasping. ‘Another fucking parade’ she was flicking her hair away from her eyes. ‘It’s like the Wizard of Oz, you have the brains of a fucking muppet’, she wasn’t quite sure how that came out. She was in perilous waters where the emotional cloak of human-ess  she wore was wearing thin. Maybe I should have kept that naughty Cocaine hidden away. She had snorted a hefty load, a Truckers load. Her head was racing, she was the fucking variable, she was the hidden clue. Those chaotic spangled Goddess thoughts were racing I bet. I wished I could write it down but that would have destroyed it a little.

‘Oh….I…fuck it’ she kissed me and bit my tongue and lip hard. It hurt and I tried to pull away but she was off, being Eris again.

‘You little fucking wanker’ she said, and pushed me away. I laughed a little. She stamped off to the toilet slamming the door and it made the TV change channel. The Grateful Dead singing ‘Rain and Snow’. Outside WAS cold indeed. 

Through the thin wooden door I could hear her ranting. “It’s my conjecture that synchronicity is a natural phenomenon which are mimicked by the intelligence services.” She shouted. I heard a bottle break in the bath, thrown there and shattered. I could see it. ” Some maybe, in the services, know synchronicity to be a real phenomenon, some maybe don’t know it and think it’s all a ruse.. but they use it, in any case, for an ‘edge.’ The random variable spoke. It wasn’t her.

You, you must always follow the crazy dog. the one that snarls and grumbles. his eyes flicker on and off like a bad bulb and his hair around his neck ruffles like a wave. follow that dog and see where he goes. he trots off between dark places needing the angles of blackness from the barely lit shadows. his rolled eyes spin from place to place mad because he knows that the way back home is through his pain. he knows like a good mad dog knows, these places ‘lead’ and prod us with not so gentles prods. good boy good mad dog.

  1. When everything turns into hot trifle the most important thing is to live close to a supermarket and be armed with a vicious weapon.
  2. Your certificates will not be valid there. Your certificates will be NULL AND VOID

Carl Jung entered a period of awakeness and stepped over that stony threshold into a bright new dawn. A world where the complexities of life were simply symbols and sigils, where each golden moment was a chain of interlocked mimeographs, pentagles, crucifi, sigilisations of phrase and thought. Here he found Ixtlan or ‘Home’. He had solved the GREAT PUZZLE and the scenery of the Grand Pantomime came crashing down upon his head. The Book describing his journey is called ‘The Red Book’. and it is filled with drawings and observations of where we came from ‘which is not here’

A Fallen Prince to aid and battle our trials and pantomimes. Fallen for us to aid in our need. Sent by God who went back to sleep and left you in charge of twisted sheets and bitten shoulders. With your underwear ripped and mind shattered. There is a cup of tea held in an unsteady hand. It rips the heart out of you. You know this. let the sigils settle and unlock the will. Please have  fortitude and leave the loves lost and go out, there, naked but for armour and shield and anger, possession. See it as I did wonder at its magnificence as the Black Sun lays flesh, fulfills deeper love. and those  sticky fingers and sheets like a shroud. The Sigils rise and spin until they seem like golden globes. Like stars.

….of course Eris in all her madness weaved a separate narrative, one filled with utterly chaotic graphs and formulae. These insane variables. as she would have intelligently and divinely would be sure to have been involved in this glorious spectacle of a human consciousness bursting through the Eigen as Jung did. But she didn’t. she was probably on a beach somewhere, Santa Monica 1955 painting her nails bright red and she caught some rays. probably reading Jung to confuse the young faculty men competing in idiotic feats of strength to attract her glance.

The snow outside was wicked cold we were on the doorstep and we kissed and your gown fell open and you were naked in the street icy air and I pinched your nipple hard and put my fingers in you and you were red hot

J.R.R.Tolkien around the same time as Jung had a similar experience, except his Ixtlan was called Middle Earth. Awake enough to draw delicious pieces of art explaining key junctures and scenes of the story ‘The Lord of the Rings’. Ixtlan/Middle Earth. Of course the book was explained as being the ‘Red Book of Westmarch’ as far as I can remember. a red book nonetheless. The Elven Queen Galadriel is Eris incarnate.

He sat here and laughed and there wasn’t anything serious in it and if there was he didn’t know of it and the cool breeze blew his hair back a little. No there was no need care but if he did he wouldn’t have known it for the leaves were a million different shades and two million more for luck. and he sat and he looked

and I looked back at him and he laughed again with his ageless eyes and saw I passed the test and he showed me his world which had no name but home and his moons sat in the sky and shone. Petal and Leaf and he held up his fingers and told me ‘But a dream’ and drew the four castles in the air. but the number meant nothing and the vision passed and he drew a Black Horse galloping and on his world the children born laugh as light enters them. The Great Mother holds them up to their twin suns and sings the song of doing and the moons align children we are here and before we love to love and breath the sweet air we must suffer and pain sense the hold and the golden things. We see the pastures and hedges the loved things that grow and never die beautiful leaves lit by brightest stars as edged in purest Silver. The Pain. This pain suffered a simple task to grow and make meaning for things to name and number for angle and calculated mass. 

‘open your eyes’ she said. And I did. I screamed aloud. What have they hidden from us?

 

 

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