Last night was the first time there was a full lunar eclipse on winter solstice in the history of the United States of America, according to NASA, as well as some dude with a calculator. It was also the only time there will be a full lunar eclipse on winter solstice according to the visions of Rojonekku, which I am just starting to de-cypher after decades of cyphering words from the beyond through my various muses. I went out around 1 in the morning to drag some pine logs and cherry brush to build a fire, set up the camping chairs for the kids and ol’ lady, and hung out with the dogs running wild under the full moon, nice light to the night with plenty of pockets of snow carpets here and there where the sun hasn’t shined hard or hot enough in the past week. It felt insane out there. Actually, it felt sane to be honest with you. All the hum of my home, the laptop screen I tap in front of now, the bzzzz of the new-fangled icebox and baseboard heater upstairs and the general permeation of the background with electricity and electromagnetism and frequencies shooting around whether we have reception devices subscribed to or not, that’s what makes me feel insane, and sort of trapped.
I have not drank in over fifty days, and though I was not a serious drunkard of a Lifetime movie variety, I realize I had been masking internal situations pretty much all of my post-pubescent life. Now, there are a pair of clenched fists squeezing blood from a dishcloth inside my gut, below my heart but above my intestines, but no blood will come from it. So it squeezes and clenches and twists and it is painful. I get stuck in a deep and dark muck that I cannot shake, to where I think of terrible exclamation points to throw down for a sudden end. But luckily one of my muses is my uncle Ricky, who did just that 17 years ago behind my grandma’s trailer, so I know the results. Well, I did not know until he came back to share it with me, but a lesson came from that that keeps the clenched fists inside my gut from getting me to lay back in the deep and dark muck and say, “Okay, I quit. I am going to sleep now.”
Last night’s full lunar eclipse/winter solstice felt important for me to be around for. I have been having trouble shifting into my normal late night productivity mode as a non-drunk, missing that false boost of energy to crash through the wall of fatigue. But last night felt like something was shifting, not really inside of me, because there’s a lot of work to be done to unclench those internal infernal fists. But all around, it felt like a shift.
There is a lot of hum and buzz to our daily lives, so we don’t always notice what we have not trained our senses to see or hear or feel. This is why people like me get the suicidal thoughts, because we don’t understand what the fuck is going on. And having quit giving myself the slow poison to mask the silent weapons hurting me, I can see why people turn to fake gods to give themselves emotional security. But that doesn’t make sense to me. All of this is too big to be confined to a book of human words, or to this planet lurking in the shadows of the sunshine. And I don’t even fucking know what the fuck I’m getting at, but the fake gods and the new age tomfoolery, it doesn’t work for me. I am of a universe where I know there are things that need to be built and there are things that need to be destroyed. I have always felt my purpose is to build, but I haven’t had found the tools yet, so I destroyed instead. Problem is rather than destroy the hum and buzz around me, I destroy the hum and buzz reverberating inside of me, cutting my psychic nose off to spite my face so to speak.
There’s got to be a better way. I’ve got to be able to take off the mask and not fall victim to the submission holds of “god”. How will there be more human words that speak of what is really going on if we just keep reading over the old ones?
First time in 500 years was last night’s concurrence of celestial events. There are shifts happening far larger than this world. I am taking off the mask motherfuckers, and goddamn all this buzzing and humming.
STEAL “Sinister”
NEXT UP: Celestial prophecies!
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