The deep tarpit of depression.  Has anyone seen the new Spiderman 3?  Did you see how thick the venom was?  And, it was black, thick as tar, and hard to remove.  Could not have put it better myself.  See there really isn’t anything new under the sun.  How old is that character?  I’m peeking out again; but, now I must find The Abbey…I miss them terribly.  I’ll be back after I find them again.

Okay, maybe they’ll find me.  I have zero geek blood, so I’ll just write here. 

Gloves off, no more sugar.  My teeth rot from the sugar; body becomes sluggish, so tired of all the lies. 

There are ways to tell truth, without torturing the spirit.  Killing it to imobility.  And…

“Isolation is the oxygen you make your children breathe to survive.” - Marilyn Manson, like him, or not, go dude! 

Truth is always good; especially when we hate it, deny it, hide it, justify the refusal of it or try to kill it; just to fullfill our version of it.  Like an addiction or obsession, huh?  

The addiction makes your choices for you; doesn’t it?  Sure it does.  You aren’t in control.  Something other than you, controls you.  Sucks, huh?  You bet!  We don’t like being responsible for ourselves; especially, if we’re wrong.  What makes being wrong feel so terrible?  There are ways to tell truth, without torturing the spirit.

Was the Man Who was crucified carrying a weapon?  Ask a martial artist.  The Immortal Man, who’s flesh was crucified, was a weapon.  He commanded all of Nature’s elements.  Did He use it to free Himself?  From the pain of being beaten and nailed to wood?  Like Him, or not.  The fact that we still fight over Him, makes Him real.   Only…one man…owns politically assassinated by crucifixtion. 

There’s nothing new; everything has been said; but, no one ever puts it together.  It’s all here…living, visual, “virtual” reality.  Earth is the original classroom.  Human flesh was a downgrade.  Pretty damned impressive, I think.  You will never take credit from my Creators as long as I have a voice.  They learned it first.  They did it first!  They succeeded; along with two thirds of the original population.  Too much evidence, on Their side.   

Rehab is hell.  I don’t care what you’re healing from; it all feels like hell.  Hell was never a place; unless, you count the rehab facility. 

It is getting clean from our addictions that is the hell.  The looking in the mirror part.  The finding the twisted roads from the straight ones.  See, even writing here knowing the public sees; is sporatic, unplanned, and probably too hasty. 

The Immortals were never hocus pocus, They do nothing…this important…overnite express; we allow our entertainment to shroud reality.  It is about health, it always has been. 

There is a good reason why those who wish to be doctors need to master two basic subjects; actually, chef’s should, also…math and chemistry.  Both professions use both extensively.  Wonder why that is?  Well, Nature is chemistry;  and, if you measure the chemicals incorrectly…boom?  What makes a cake as opposed to a cookie?

We have Teachers; we just choose to ignore Them.  When it’s too late; we whine and point fingers or wail and gnash our teeth.  We seek bells and whistles; but, The Creators didn’t build this using those.  They used blood, sweat and tears.  Immortality is not hocus pocus.  They gave us an elementary curriculum; which we have failed to comprehend.  We are not old enough to get the wings reinstated.

Our first major lesson is first, do no harm.  Because if Nature grants life; it has the same right as you do.  We never fell out of grace.  We are within grace every moment we remain alive.  We are separated from our original famly, by contamination; but, we don’t fall out of grace until we are dead, without awareness.

This is turning into a log of what happens when people get caught in a dark, imobile hole.  Sometimes my writing pours.  Sometimes it trickles.  Sometimes you may not see me at all.  Not good for the ones who need me to get a rating.  I wish I could stop it; the world’s darkness feels like thick, black, tar that will drown me, I like my shell.   

Two folks, Neria, who’d have thought; and Jan shot a couple sparks of light into the shell.  Okay, I’m coming.  Five months later I read Jan writing exactly what I’m thinking.  Who am I to write this? 

My nerve to visit soul food hasn’t managed to emerge, yet.  I’m reading everything though.  Haven’t seen you for, the date said November.  The Kaliedosoul sounds interesting.  And, since reading it, Heather may not understand how much I wish I could have grabbed the back of the bike Darryl rode out.  He is the lucky one.  He’s free!  No pain.  Father and Mother will take good care of him.  The Lord may ride with him…cool!  

I’m trying to find my way back to the Abbey.  There is still much darkness in the cave, though.  I will reach her…soon.  There is warmth in the attic; and a window.    

For all the folks having a rough time. Must be that time of year. Finding time is also a challenge. Soul Food is always in my prayers. Pretty bumbed that I missed the ship. I wanted to be on that baby,…ha!,…for real. Maybe when some calm comes back we can all stand on deck and let the wind blow our cares out to sea.

First, let me dedicate these posts to our Father Creator. I feel He is the One treated the most unfairly. We have placed the worst of our own character in His lap. We forget that The Creators were not made in our unhealthy image. We were made in Their healthy image.

I feel I should leave a record of what I have learned. I did what Father’s Son suggested. I looked at Heaven through the eyes of a child. It was meant to be much simpler for all of us. We traded reality for magic. However, The Creators did not invent the laws of health, They learned them. There is physical health and there is mental health. One dictates the outcome of the other.

The Oldest Living Mind never intended control of all to lie within a single pair of hands,…not even His own. His design was meant to show us His character and what it takes to build immortality. Love was supposed to be our god, and the family was supposed to be our church. That’s what our Lord died for, love and family. They don’t raise soldiers, in Heaven, They raise men and women. The Creators are Pa-rental, not govern-mental.

Let me escape this darkness. It is suffocating, like drowning. The world sees the physical. It has no idea the depth of the cave.

How does a stranger hit the mark so well; or, are there simply a multitude to observe? How many fictional Elphaba’s are there,…exactly? In the end, she was saved from the fire by innocence.

For a moment, my Elphaba became Neria. Strong and able to fly. But, she made friends with the tortoise. This cave is portable; for when the civilized are hard to avoid. And, you are forced to ingest the hypocrisy.

Long ago, I was handed the hem of a robe. A tiny corner to keep in my hand. Only years later and, never all at once, would I learn what it meant.

The rain is pure when it leaves Father’s hand. But, by the time it reaches us,…Neria’s wings are bound by the thick, black tar we use for repairing leaks. Much later would I learn that it is Mother’s soft, silent tears that attempt to blanket the tar in white. While Their Baby tries to transfuse our pride with love. I feel my understanding came too late.

I found the seeds, today. Funny, the winter is in the air. If I plant them now, they may wither. I have a long way to go. My soil is hardened and in need of moisture. The fall sedates the life that will rest beneath the snow. Sleeping, sleeping until the warmth of life returns.

I have hung the Abbey’s landscape on the Attic wall. I will attach the seeds to the lace of Her window. If I should ever find the way to fill my grail; I can use the life within to water the seeds. My winters are cold and long. I’m still coming out of sedation. I won’t know what the seed brings until He can unite with the sustenance in the grail. I have a long way to go.

Mediangler » People’s Web 2.0
“The idea of community has proved attractive to American and European web audiences alike, community and participation.” (Links hate me, I had to paste this. My blog this didn’t bring me here.)

I have been asking if learning to converse peacefully, through the writing practice we get blogging, is possible. A few say no; but, the interest must be there.

Where have you gone?

You held my spark.

The truth came late;

I am the tortoise.

Neria has fled to a hiding place.

If I believe the acceptance;

Will it go away?

Will I be afraid to venture

Down the steps?

Afraid to uncover my face?

They have so many writing exercises I want to do that I needed a spot. This is it, I guess. I never realized that I would need to learn so much about computers when I found freedom for my writing. They let me camp out in the Attic. I’m so excited. Close to the birds, bells, wind, all untouched by too much industrial civilization. It’d be great if a person could really just let all the bonds of this world burn off without fear. I would like to save my better writing for Soul Food’s pages. So, here I will practice. To be continued…

Soul Food prompts: When I find them, again my favorite list will be here.  The writing in For Soul Food.  The best finished product to The Attic.