Why journal?

I journal. I can't take that back now. It is still true. Once you think you know everything, many of us stop asking why. But to know everything logically is equivalent to knowing that there is also nothing we don't know. And here starts the rabbit hole, if knowing is anything, it cannot be nothing and if so, it too is true. But for something to be true, we need to accept false too.

For if I am a person that writes a private journal, I know words can be whatever I want them to be. This is about what that actually looks like. It is a free form flow of thoughts, feelings and intuitions that are received as vibrations from the universe in me, and that strike a chord loud enough that I can put it into words. Its rhyme and rhythm, such as it is, resonates with me. And though it may be contradictory, fictitious and deceitful, the words it inspired are testament to that particular vibration picked up in me. This is not for everyone, press the back button whenever you feel like.

So in my journal I can write what is true for me. My personal history, my truth. I can digest all the words I have swallowed. All the data, symbols and myths. And from their midst choose what I want to be true. But as I digest words they form sentences and paragraphs, congesting my energy flow, fracturing the light. The body becomes so neglected that it is screaming for loving attention.

Obviously, you can safely believe that I do not take care of my body, it is lived in, worn and heavy. Signs of use. A life of leisure around the waist, a soft seat to rest my arse and fart in, greasy long hear and hair season if mid fall. Miserable and cheery, I love my own company.

As I was saying, in the journal I define what each word means to me, so for me company means togetherness, a feeling of belonging, trust and gratitude. I am in love with myself. And that is just like, eh, my opinion man.

Every peace pipe partaker enjoys their own company, thinking and feeling and being. And then, for each word I define in my dictionary, I have to do admin to make the whole stay coherent, update indexes, page numbers and so on. Of course I am not another brick in the wall, I am the wall. The wall is not there, there is no us and them, no you and I. We are all consciousness, we are all the same, at the spiritual level. We are all second to the One consciousness, the whole, the universe. The black hole. My journal is in a way a first fact, whatever it was. Sure, I can dig up what it was, but it is no more. All history is lies at the spiritual level, because it is only a signpost to Hiroshima, still standing on Tuesday that bleak atomic sunrise on early autumn August the seventh, nineteen-forty-five.

It just hits me, comes alive in me, this energy in my crotch, this serpent of creativity slithering through my heart, glistening and shiny, pure poison, muscle, bone and energy. Through my throat the words gush out, as I regurgitate all the lies I have ever heard. And make them true by manifesting them using the light from my third eye to see where I am going.

Unlike the fool, I would never venture into the unknown blindfolded. The fool is either optimistic, hopeful and faithful, or worse, he is aware of his fear, his terror and his certain mortal peril. Yet he chooses to put his faith in Gods hands, and trusting he will be. His soundtrack is Alexia Chellum's Trust. Its frequency at 432Hz resonates with his own frequency. It is synergy, it is on repeat, to know there is no other quite like me. I low key know it will work out.

My heart grows, expanding in love, overflowing abundance and blissful joy. When out lower energy centers are all focusing on the same power, frequency, energy. The snake forces itself upwards through my throat and it feels like my solid backbone is vibing in harmony, undulating, wavering, prowling, dying to attack, like a king cobra dancing with death. The soundtrack is Tash Sultana's Jungle. The Live Bedroom Recording is best for faith.

Being alive is a pleasure, if you can just accept the pain. I mean feel the pain, as in actually stop doing what you are doing right now. And bear witness. Just be still and focus on what your third eye is seeing. I become the holy snake-man Olliiaddahr just around the 6 Minuit in mark.

I write that I love my self, in the journal, so it is true. June 24Th is my birthday, my present to my 45 year old serpent healer of the damned, is unconditional love to myself. That is what responsibility is, it is loving someone, and we are responsible for our selves. My spiritual tepee temple is my astral dwelling. I remember my life as a redskin war chief of the Snake people of western America.

What Rage against got so well, is you could trust a system to perpetuate itself. Like any entity, a company has legal person hood and therefor is recognized to be a living entity. Yet it is only a fragment of one, it is not informed by love, only law. It is heartless, thoughtless and soulless. Only a corporate body does it have. It is a manifestation of pure greed. Pure animal. Pure apex predator. Pure appetite. Devouring. And we agree to let it prey on us and our earth, because its marketing forces tell us to.

The main voice we are exposed to, form the most tender age, is that we are not free as long as we want to live in the late dystopian kleptocracy of a shell company that we call democratic society. Take the Norwegians, they believe they live in a democracy where the people decide who can rule them. But a glance at a geography book would surprise them, that not only is Sweden their neighbor, but that they actually live in the Kingdom of Norway. A king is a ruler of people. He is sovereign, alone on the throne. Fuck the iron throne, don't accept what you know in your heart is not right. One ruler, who lets the population choose who can control them, so if they fuck up, say by overspending, the system can replace the human with another, and still continue operations for the king. He has the most fancy house in Oslo, he is doing alright "serving" the people.

The brilliant orator Kondiaronk of the tribe of Wyandot people Kondiaronk realized the only way to peace was to establish security was to maintain a war. Kondiaronk succeeded by first killing peace(starting his own bloody murderous war); however, once he had secured the preservation of his people he favored a vast peace and signed the Great Peace of Montreal which lasted for 16 years. But it was troubled times in that land back then, they have not enjoyed a peace like the western lands have since WWI, it has been war after war since then. Dog eat dog, most vicious killer survives. Yet these ladies know good exists, for it is within them, they birth goodness, man is there to protect and love them as tenderly and fiercely as he can. His love must encompass hate. He must be able to hate another that he can justify taking his life. For a man must be a killer above all. And she must be immaculate, delicate and beautiful, For a knight kneels before his maiden, she raises him up she accepts he must do what he must.

A good, law abiding peaceful, well adjusted person is what society call someone who is subservient. Well trained in playroom, classroom, lecture hall, office space, media, social media. They are not so unlike a cell, square and given meaning by way of constraining energy from being free. When you go inside you are literally boxed in, in a room you can get out of, but you are happy to enjoy leisure time more than a lust for life. Because if it isn't vigor, then what do you propose is the meaning of life?

The serpent is a predator, but the Snake Indian sign for Salmon was misunderstood by the Plains tribes. They lived inland and had never seen a salmon, so they say the symbol and could only match it up to meaning in their world, and it looked like a long thing with no feet, kinda, so they called the tribe Snake people because their symbol reminded them of a snake, they could not know it was a salmon, because they did not know salmons existed. The salmon did indeed exist, and it is yummy, but for the ignorant tribe, this knowledge was only to be found in the unknown.

It would take a fool or a hero to return with that knowledge won in the great darkness of the unknown. We know so much, but at some point we gotta ask why? Once you ask why you have awakened spiritually. And we all have asked why ever since we could speak, we all have the light within it, use it by simply starting to question things again.

We needed to know why to understand how everything is connected. Eventually we got a good enough map to navigate our part of the universe, but we letting others tell us what to do and what to believe. Because it is pleasant and enjoyable, carefree and fun to be young. We do as we told and have our needs met, and sure that is great, but we only become adult by stepping into the world and start tending, shaping and creating the world how we want it to be. We take responsibility for ourselves by accepting that we are the only one we can trust to save our soul, for it is known only to us, our spirituality is intensely personal. To share that with another is like coming home, but you know you have to leave. Love yourself and your children first, and then everyone else. The problem with listening to what others tell you, is that you can be reasonable certain they are not always talking in your best interests. So pick up that burden of responsibility for your self again, it is where you left it when you stopped asking why when you where growing up. It is not in kindergarten, but many of us must admit we stopped caring before right now.

The fool does not see the challenge i faces and succeeds by pure chance. The hero knows his odds are way zero, yet succeeds by overcoming his fears and pure chance. He knew he had to do it. Only a challenge that can end in death(of body, heart or spirit) can prove to you that when you where chosen, you stood up, faced, fought and defeated whatever the harsh, wicked and temporary mother earth materialized against you. And all our ancestors survived to pass on the light, to extend their life, to live on in another consciousness (light), one that was born of their own choice, and willed into existence by a choice that the spirit made and the heart and mind obeyed. Eve did what she willed, because the snake willed her to understand and told her why she must take the apple, because if she didn't she would never know. Women can not deal with not knowing. Only a man can lie to himself.

So like the Walela's Cherokee River, we are energy that bubbles up a spring from the darkness of the Mother Goddess. We are a water molecule, or are we Hydrogen or are we H20 or electrons, protons or tributary's, streams, rivulets, winding bends, and as we join and become mighty rivers, tell me, do we not become something more?

Parting words

To create great fiction, we write what comes to us from within, fed by the sun and the earth we birth meaning, it does not come from nowhere, it is a just a vibration we are conscious of, we let it sing out into the universe, like a whale song or depth charge in the sea, a ringing of bells bringing forth our melody. You can make music in more ways than strumming a chord or banging a drum. Vibration is movement, dance you fool. Praying is humming with your soul. Feelings are colors to be painted on the tapestry of life.

Why journal? Why not. Try it and decide for your self. It is not for everyone, but maybe it can make not knowing the why more bearable. It is basically sending love letters to yourself, but they surprise you when you read them read all the same, for since you wrote them, you have already become someone else, at least no longer the same.