sunday
9:30am
weather clear
slept on and off six hours
no night sweats
woke up wanting to chain smoke...
I make some coffee.
I smoke some cigs and meditate.
i play "moodswings" spiritual high
if your not familiar with this music cd, you might wanna check into it. a classic kind of ambient pop riff that can hypnotize you.
more like trance music perhaps. it's good to meditate to...soothing.
I close my eyes.
be like water...
water is powerful.
it can rust metal. destroy earth. put out fire.
why is our planet called "Earth" when it's 75% water?
what I'am going to say next--- you may not understand or you may understand completely, but i think I'am ready to get back into my body...
I think i left for awhile kinda hovering around. I probably left during my hospital stay because there was too much pain in my actual body.
the white light in the room is probably me.
I'am sure of it.
over the last twenty years my psychic teachers have taught me to: "be in my body,"
stay "grounded" and be "present."
my first real teacher - "marta" was very spry and upbeat. we made a connection through a fraternity brother after graduation.
joe, my kinda soul brother from college suggested i call this woman: a good friend of his.
joe and I hung out in college and were fraternity brothers. we drank together and became really tight.
joe was an artist and anti corporate, anti- preppy, kinda one of the first slackers, i guess. things changed when he got married a few years after school. he got married, which i thought was great but after moving to the suburbs of san francisco he secured a job negotiating "arms" to third world countries and acting as a middle man and charged a fee.
I really snapped when he told me...
even back then I realized or felt that there would be a heavy karmic debt for him if and when those weapons would be used to kill people...
I really couldn't believe a guy as bright as joe wouldn't realize the karmic ramifications of dealing nuclear arms -
but he wanted financial security and this was how he wanted to achieve it.
joe became like a second son to my parents after my father bailed him out of jail early one sunday afternoon. he got arrested for shooting off a handgun around 7am, in an alcohol haze, while blasting german nationalist music into the walls of his room in our fraternity house.
joe had visited germany on spring break and brought back these "glass boots" - they were drinking glasses. the actual size of a real boot.
six canned beers filled them up.
apparently: saturday turned into sunday morning and joe began taking pistol target practice into the walls of his room: known back then as the "log cabin..."
in the early 80s, one of the brothers had taken the time to decorate the walls and ceiling of room number 8 with actual tree logs. when you were inside the 10 by 12 space you were in a log cabin...
campus security and the lapd showed up within a few minutes:
receiving several phone calls from panicked sorority and fraternity houses near by on fraternity row...
joe was in east LA county jail - calling me begging to come and get him. he was terrified. surround by guys in orange cover-alls wanted to bang his tight white lil rich boy azzzz...
I'am sure I was hung over when he called: "Yeah man I'll be right there..."
I walked down the hall to my dad's office next to the study we had in our house...
Dad was on the phone. i figured hed say: "no."
give me some lecture -- but he didn't.
he went to the safe pulled out three grand and said,
"tell him i want to see him after he gets out."
although i wasn't in the office when joe went to see my Dad:
i think my dad gave him a good talking to and joe promised to pay back the money and that it wouldn't happen again.
in a sense my father kinda adopted joe as a father figure after that and since Joe's father passed away when he was a boy i think he needed a strong male influence to guide him.
through the years after I moved to new york joe became even closer to my family, meeting my parents at the indy 500 every year and sharing stock and business tips.
YEARS LATER --
I got sober: I had to detach from my past and college pals and family. I basically disappeared from the fraternity scene. and stopped hanging out at my regular haunts...
No more "polo lounge" - "901" club binges -- bloody mary pass outs around the pools of palm springs...sneaking into rooms at the "chateau Marmont" -- looking to "star fuck" a few closeted mega-stars...< names withheld by request...>
No more lifting my parents credit cards...or crashing cars...
borrowing my father's work trucks to cruise rest stops -- in a closeted drunken haze...
I had to lay low...get sober - clear out my head...
Just to let you know: there were no "detoxes" back then...you did it yourself -- by sheer will...got sober --
I had to disappear...
joe kinda filled the void and became the son my dad always wanted...
Joe and I connected years later after I ran away to nyc...
I had about six months of sobriety under my belt...
my parents had cut me off financially...
I got a survival job as a butler of all things...to the rich and famous at the infamous Hotel Acropolis...
I dialed Joe's number --
I was shaking -
I had to tell him I was in nyc - that I was sober and couldn't drink anymore...and confirm what he probably all ready knew about me:
that I was a fag...
we talked along time. He said he was glad that we re-connected.
then he told me what he did for a living. I was horrified. truly. and tried to explain the karmic ramifications but he was insulted.
In fact he was startled because he assumed somewhere that i would think it was cool.
actually I can see how he would draw that conclusion. while in school, drinking and throwing around my dad's cash I was an elitist - racist lazy alcoholic preppy rich kid that only wanted to be rich and retire at thirty.
that was the late 80s.
joe on the other hand came from modest means. had no father nor any goals or direction. he took care of his mother, was on financial aid to pay for tuition and was more an artist than an elitist business man.
I remember some of joes drawings and even then before i knew anything about art or the the art world I knew he had a gift.
* * *
late one night joe and I had been up drinking and smoking pot we decided to slit our thumbs and have a ceremony to solidify our friendship. I had a Polaroid camera at the time and we took pictures of the blood from our cut fingers, we took pics of us holding our thumbs together. from 7:03 - to 8:03am.
that sunday morning - the morning of the "blood brothers" we mixed our blood - thumb by thumb -- looked into each others eyes -- promised wed always watch out for each other -- and then wrote out a contract and singed it in blood -- >>>>
we'd be "friends for life."
our bloody thumb prints were pressed onto a notebook page with a sentences i scrawled about "being bros" for life. stoned, high and hung over all at once, our mantra became:
"7:03 (am)
8:03 (am)
BBFL"
(blood brothers for life)
later that week i found a small tin box and stashed the Polaroid's and grisly -- stained contract smeared with blood inside. then wrapped several layers of duct tape around it and stashed it underneath a loose floor board in our fraternity house. nailing the floorboard down so no one would ever think to look there.
as far as i know it's still there.
when i disappeared into the greek islands and then resurfaced in nyc determined to get sober and never return to LA joe was the first person I called.
the phone calls always began like this
without saying my name I'd mumble the "code."
7:03 -
then hed come back with
8:03
and then together wed respond
BBFL...
that was a long, long time ago...
i truly always felt that joe and I had switched bodies that morning. that our spirits did -- and the truth is in the telling...
he became a millionaire business man.
I got sober and became an artist. a starving artist but a sober one...
before we got into it about him dealing nuclear arms - where I flipped out and severed the friendship:
I told him if that was what he wanted to do that with his life then we should probably part as friends...
I know he was hurt...
however the phone call before that one joe suggested I contact a friend of his who lived in marin county just outside of san francisco.
he said that he had an idea that we - his friend, "marta" and i should speak on the phone and to give her a call...
"shes psychic bro , you'd totally dig her. she's gonna give you a reading..." joe announced to me...
now --
you have to understand a few things.
as my alcoholism progressed in college I stopped attending my classes for a semester, drinking night and day and reading the bible: specifically "the book of revelations."
i was having visions, probably more from the DTs
than anything else, but they seemed real to me at that time. my journey into the occult, channeled writing, and mysticism was just beginning. I wrote - and rewrote the fraternity ceremonies and presided over them. i was elected the
"grand master of ceremonies" three years in a row...
we had all kinds of fucked up late night ceremonies for the pledges...some of them funny -- pouring wine over the young initiates in their boxers...getting them drunk and high --
making them do push-ups - making them swear to honor and obey the fraternity house laws and secret codes...making them earn there way into the campuses number one frat-house...
I rescued some black robes with hand embroidered symbols of our fraternity, candles, and written rituals of initiation i found one night in a locked closet which I'am guessing kinda fell to the way side in the 70s...
any and all things "mysto" - for the "House"
were handled by me...
i had the perfect -- "weird psychic profile" - the sense of humor and if truth be told, the "trans-medium" quality to preside over these ceremonies. a kind of "dark priest" on training..I took to the dark greek late night masses naturally..
i was a natural choice to reside over these rituals: all the pledges feared and respected me...
"mysto" - is a very common term in secret societies and refers to initiation practices and ceremonies - codes, secret handshakes and founding ideas of the fraternity or sorority: which are to be held as secrets by its members but known to all members world wide...every "house" has national founding principals -- and then there are "chapter" specific rituals as well that have developed through the years...
principals and rituals the members promise to uphold -- pass on but never divulge to outsiders -- this is one of the things that create sacred bonds between the members...
>>>"Blood Brothers For Life..."
>>>sitting here 20 years later and seeing the hiv anti-virals on the night-stand it all seems like another lifetime:
and it was...
be like water...
it was joe that made my connection to the occult complete with his introduction to marta.
interestingly enough it was not the sexual orientation differences between joe and I that severed our friendship like so many others from college who vented their phobias, rage and judgments onto me when they found out either by self disclosure or the rumor mill that I was a "fag."
no -- joe and I differed on political fronts - he became the elitist reagan republican - I tuned bleeding heart liberal after getting sober and living in poverty.
joe was very matter of fact when i told him that i was gay in the late 80s...
there i was confessing my core admission and asking that he absolve me :
then turning around and throwing a harsh judgement his way...
I can now see perhaps other ways i might have handled that phone call differently and perhaps kept joe as a friend....
i was truly concerned for his "karmic" soul well-being...or
maybe i just wanted a clean break from my old life and friends in LA.
i dunno...
I was getting sober...
coming out of the closet, which by the way was something you "had" to do in the late 80s or stay in the "closet" and suffer through changing pronouns at dinner parties and living two lives...
"Two lives"...: One you showed to the "hetero" world and one lived in the gay ghetto of queer bars and nightclubs.
unless you went into a "gay specific" profession -- hairdresser -- florist -- clothing retail or broadway -- you had two choices at that time and the choices were financial not sexual...
either be and move in the business world pretending to be a straight man - or come out and find a work place where youd be "tolerated." but essentially free to be yourself.
that was easy -
the restaurant service industry in manhattan.
tolerated - out of the closet...sounds kinda funny now -- and terribly dated -- but --
twenty years ago the best you could do -- if you were "out"
was act like a queen in the hopes of entertaining the heteros into liking you or proving you were quite harmless and effeminate and give up you power as a male and then hope you weren't fag bashed after work...
or even worse
disclosing something that ---now, in 2006 --- you see as "nobodies business" and never has been -- back then if you were "out" you were expected to apologize for it every minute...
as long as you lowered your head and knew "your place,"
then it was cool...
those concessions were not negotiable in my eyes and haven't been since I first "came out."
TO ME: "coming out" was about throwing off the shackles of fear - deny the bullshit - psychic bondage of the hetero world: it was about not living in fear/// it was about coming into the light -- A light of power...not weakness. an act of courage -- not cowardice...
it was about---
not living in a dark closet of self hatred and conformity.
It was about authenticity. about challenging the social and sexual structure and rigid fascist gender roles that caused us all to suffer
gay and non - gay alike.
i had the intention to be upfront about who i was: i made my choice -- not the choice to be gay mind you -- iam afraid that was always there...i made the choice to be open about it -- no live a lie...not have to wonder who might expose me or "my secret..."
this alienated me from the business world and the hetero communities at large: at that time: in short you could move in the larger business world BUT - you had to be straight...had to lie -- have a girlfriend hanging around to take to corporate functions...talk about her to your bros...this is how you got promotions and made the cash -- by being chums in the office -- boardrooms and private - member clubs of the 80s...
>>>>>>>fags were not allowed --
no gay guys wanted - and just for the record -- a gay guy couldn't be just "a regular guy" -- an average - "joe citizen" or even a masculine dude playing sports or climbing rocks on his day off -- or shooting hoops with some bros in the park on sunday...
today we know differently - of course that basically gay guys are a sure 10-15 %across the board cross section of the general population...
If you lived in the truth that you knew since you were first sexually conscious -- the truth about what your body felt like when you as a boy looked at the other boys -- if you really just laid it down - told it how it was -- then you were laid out -- subject to anyone's fucked up ignorance -- psychic dark projections -- and you opened yourself up to being the victim of physical violence -- back then :no one would protect you -- care for you -- own you....the basic idea was: all fags deserved to die-
yeah it was that intense...this kinda made you grow to hate the hetero population in general actually --
if you were gay - it meant you were a pussy -- weak -- mentally defective...unclean...something evil...unwanted...mentally ill...
seems laughable now -- back then -- the concealment or exposure of love and truth meant the ruin or favor of countless men and women...who either made millions by staying in the closet or risking absolute alienation and ruin in your public and or private life...
I've heard uncountable stories of the quarter back - the head coach -- and even joe average being outed - forced to leave town -- live in urbania -- in a gay ghetto...branded and banished -- for being found out -- no questions asked -- now we don't want you...period. sorry.
living "openly gay" >>>20 years ago was like taking a vow of eternal poverty ---
the trade off was that I could live with myself - but i was not willing to give up my masculinity just because I preferred same sex partners, romance or sex.
this caused me alot of trouble through the years....
and even a few violent episodes around me --
one in particular...
at my butler job -- in the kitchen --- A line cook -- who weighed around 200 pounds and was "bottoming out" on crack-cocaine and was probably a fag too...but acted "all straight" --
and really was probably just turned on by my white ass...
threw a knife at me one night in the kitchen...he missed...
and by the way went to detox a week later...
be like water...
NOW -- TODAY
1:40pm
sean calls - comes over --
tries to fuck me again - we talk of his lover -
etc, he tells me that he loves me again and then tries to undo his pants -- He pulls out his cock and starts stroking it -- stands over the bed..."just let me...--- jerk off --in front of you -- touch you..."
I look like "ET" -- I weigh 110 pounds.. I'am half dead -- and he still thinks --I'am sexy --
"SEAN - "stop it now" -- I say flatly-- and tell him that he should leave...
2:45pm
jeremy james stops by and brings some friend chicken and mac and cheese....
my psychic activity is high.
kate from LA calls...
we discuss that the "mothership"
is over LA -- how nobody smokes there or swears, how all the citizens of greater southern california are vain and self obsessed. she describes a catering job where one of the guests speaks broken spanish to her -- as if she were some wet-backed illegal...
Kate's about as close to that as Madonna is to mother teresa...
i take half a vicaden and pass out while on the phone -
I have a strange dream--
I dream of la - Iam trying to make a reservation into the hottest restaurant.
the hostess is flirting with me --
there is light everywhere - she keeps saying -
"were going to put you on the seventh floor. You have to go to another level..."
I ascend the stairs that she points me to - I walk up flights and flights of stairs...then - finally come to a bluish door and open it up...there before me is the most "fabulous" cocktail party of anyone's dreams...
Everyone is hot and sexy and young and rich...
everything is beautiful...then through the crowd -- a guy -- maybe the "man of my dreams" parts the crowd...
winks to me -- and says: "hey man -- weve been waiting for you -- welcome home..."
he walks over plants a perfect long kiss on my lips...
this guy is my life partner.
the guy i've dreamt about my entire life...
he looks into my eyes...I feel at home...
Just then a butler type of older gentleman appears and is standing next to me -- I turn to speak with him..He hands me a phone...i take the receiver in my hand and gaze toward Mr. handsome who winks at me again...i nod as if to say --
"i'll be just a moment..."
a voice on the other end says..."you know you can't stay there...it's time to come back...your not done...you have to come back....now..."
i feel dred and pain...
i turn around and then everything disappears...
everything is gone...
I'am floating in a cloud of mist...a tiny spec of human flesh swirling around and then falling back into the right portal through a haze of blue mist...i fall and fall and then hit a pool of despair...BAMM!
I awake with a start...remembering the dream...the perfect dream and my perfect partner up there -- somewhere..
aching to be "back there" again...
I'am covered in sweat...
I sit on the edge of the bed for a long time...i didn't cry but wanted to...
* * *
>>>>>the first psychic phone call went something like this --
"hey -- ah hello --- ah Marta? yeah this is Dirk rogers...
joe told me to call you...he said that you were psychic...
might give me a tarot reading..."
"yes - this is marta...I live outside the bay area...
yes I'am a psychic..."
marta's voice was distinct. kind of high pitched. she was spry and giggled...around mid thirties i guessed...
"how do i know your really psychic...?" i responded and then asked her - "can you "see" my apartment? if so -- describe it to me over the phone?"
"oh. ok if thats the test." she enquired -- and said "yes I can..."
>long pause >
"ok. no problem..." i wait -- >Short Pause>
she continues...
"Well, you walk in the door and theres a bathroom to the right, theres a window on the far wall...
your bed is in the corner. the bedspread is ah...a blue-ish aqua color...and theres a bookcase in the middle of the longer wall...
theres a small table with a lamp...and ah - when are you gonna pick up your clothes...?" she kinda howls and giggles...and then waits for me to respond..
>>>>>>>>
"ah I don't know what to say..." i mumbled.
i was truly stunned. but it was all true. she nailed the description of my space perfectly...
"well ah - do you have a message for me or...i mean what do i need to know...?"
she replies...
"oh -- ok - i can feel you reading my aura...right now -- so you might want to stay out of my chakras..." she laughs again...
(( you have to remember ))
this was around september of 1984...
before the "psychic friends network" before "Jon Edward's"
before Sylvia brown wrote her best selling books on the "white light" and "the other side"...before the "harry potter" series of books that in a way -- opened people's minds to the idea that "witches" were something good or atleast something not to be feared...the idea that you could be "born a "Witch" - that a person could be born with - >>>"powers..." or be "different"
- and that some people were not...that others were "muggles" so to speak...or ordinary people...some are "normal" and some are extraordinary...
1984 was a time when everyone tried to fit into the same box --
act the same -- look the same -- dress the same..
you were expected to "fit in."
the occult or anything mystical or spiritual back then ---
was considered dark, and dangerous and even - in the "christian-morality" sense -- evil...
"get out of my aura." id never heard that one before...
I pull in. pull back my "energy" instinctively...
i kinda freeze...
marta laughs again...
"look at you -- your all pulled in now >>>in "survival mode"
you can relax...i guess your not used to being around your
"own kind." i think it's time you attract other people like you -- be around people that can validate who and what you are..."
I'am startled a bit...and reply..."ah -- and what exactly am i ??
"you know what you are - it's just time to own that and your power...get back into your body, i want you to -- come back to your body...lets see - I'am just going to "ground" you -- is that ok? >>>don't worry i can do it over the phone...you feel that sensation on the top of your head? thats me -- " she giggles again a bit and pauses...
it was true -- i did feel a light - caressing feeling - a tingling around my head and neck...it felt good - warm -- like light...
i wait and say nothing...
then i feel i tingling sensation on the small of my back - my arms and then my head again -- like a spirit moving and touching me softly...
then all of a sudden i feel different in my body...the colors and sounds were different...sharper and clean...like i just had a "psychic" bath or cleansing or something...i felt heavier...but more solid...
"there ya go -- isn't that better?" she inquires...
"ah-- yeah i guess..."
I was simultaneously freaked out and elated...
i thought to myself..>>>"finally, iam going to get some answers...theres somebody that knows whats going on...
finally i met a "real person..."
that thought -- "a real person"...seemed to come out of the blue...and told me volumes about what i thought of people in general...
that they were stupid...a sleep. unaware...
that they all seemed like zombies roaming around mindlessly and i was trapped here among them - lost -- alone -- just simply alone here with no one to talk to -- i WAS different but didn't know how...I didn't belong HERE...in this reality -- i was in the wrong time frame or something -- i knew I didn't belong in the material world -- but never could grasp or form those ideas internally - or in my mind...
i hadn't been exposed to another "witch" until now --
the constant thought in the back of my mind was vague but some thing akin to: "god do i hate it HERE -- wheres the doorway out...i have to get out of here -- to go -- "back home..."
this unspoken feeling -- idea now forming as a description in my thoughts and mind also explained why i always had an "aire" of superiority with regard to other people in general
...i knew i was something different - different from most of the people i knew...
my parents were > kind of > afraid of me at times -- a fear that was never spoken...but remained in the air --
especially after i told them one afternoon in the kitchen of our suburban track home: "ah mom - dad - I'am ready to go home...
I want to go home...now"
my mother looked at me. i couldn't have been more than ten years old...she replied: "honey we are home..."
i responded: "no i mean "HOME..." up there...where i came from..."
i said pointing upwards...and looking to my "earth?" parents...
as if it were totally obvious that this "reality" was not our "home." i looked at them like --
as if to say :>>>>"don't you know that?? -- don't you know about the "other side" ?? like -- "Don't you remember???"
and then realizing that they truly did not "know" a true dread came over me - it must have been apparent on my face...
as young as i was -- right then and there i looked down in despair...and shook my head -
i must have thought something to the effect of:
"oh no...i'am TRAPPED here -- and they don't know anything and they can't help me or teach me anything...I'am trapped - i fell down the wrong
the feeling of isolation i had at ten had solidified through the years - and always the thoughts in the back of my mind --
"i got lost here -- i'll just have to wait it out...and see what happens...I'am an alien here -- an impostor - a spirit that got forced into a body..."
i looked up to my mother...the chasm of separation that had been there -- since i was born -- all of my ten or twelve young years here on earth -- was now underlined...it was painful yet telling..
my parents were - "muggels" they were not like me -- they were not witches...and i would have to protect myself and play dumb until i was old enough to get away..
run away somewhere and find "my people..."
i stood there waiting and then repeated -
"our home"...meaning where we "really" come from...
the spiritual dimension..
they shook their heads - and brushed it off -- told me to go and play -- or go outside...but that comment hung in the air for years...they knew i was different and were afraid for me --
and maybe afraid of me...the unspoken truth --
"our son's a little ---witch --"
>>>in retrospect i suppose I' am lucky that they didn't take me to a head shrinker...or even worse they could have been some freaked out bible thumping christians and told me that i was the "devil" or something to that effect...
everything was being explained and coming together in my mind -- the strange visions i had - the knowing quality i had about me - the way the other kids in the neighborhood surrounded me asking all sorts of questions about life and the world --- as if i was the pontiff or "master" and they were my students....
It also explained why i watched the Tv series: "Bewitched" with such fascination...or that the disney film "escape to witch mountain" was one of my favorite films -- it explained why my favorite game to play with my best friend was --
"Kung Fu Master" after the Tv series...
i played "the master" and my friend was the "grasshopper..."
i remembered my childhood fort that i built on the side of the house with old plywood - and tarps...finding a thrown out broken table on the street and rescuing it -- bringing it to the fort...and finding or buying candles and lighting them --
my mother coming to the fort one afternoon - and pulling the blanket that served as the door -- nailed to the top of the plywood - she pulled the curtain back -- and looked inside - perhaps pondering or thinking i might be playing "doctor" with the other kids -- the little girls or boys my age --***
***(my mother wasn't stupid thou at all and i don't mean to give that impression of my parents here -- they were really intelligent people -- if not cut-off from the spiritual realm....they were really extremely successful --- in the material world - they were millionaires which i didn't know.
i had no idea what money meant and that my father was rich.
rich. rich. -- i didn't know or took for granted the fact that at one time we had 7 speedboats -- or took three vacations a year...my parents were multimillionaires. i realized this when working for my father's construction business. i walked onto the job-site and when one of the workers from another company asked my name and realized who i was he said:
"on my god -- your rich -- your a rich kid -- "
i shook my head -- and pondered it -- our home was a modest one in a track of housing -- nothing seemed special about it -- we got a new cadillac every three years...my father paid cash for everything...
i didn't really add up the general idea of where I came from in the material world until i was around 20 years old.
my parents were alpha "alpha male" type people -- with intense goals -- and truly powerful in their own ways...
in fact my mother always knew i was a lil fag waiting to happen... ((but thats another entire chapter that i'll have to tell you about later...))
there i was in the fort in the late afternoon...she pulls back the blanket to peer inside -- and she sees me sitting there in front of several lit candles on a broken table: just staring into the light...
i looked up from my trance...i was around 12-13 years old maybe...
I was obviously meditating even though i didn't know what that was...i went right to the candles and lit them and stared at them on instinct...
A long pause --
i remember that I 'am on the phone with marta-
"yeah can you tell me - who or what I' am...i HATE it HERE! God do i hate it here so much..."
i replied knowing for the first time that some one would know
what i meant when i said; "I Hate it HERE..."
I meant this incarnation of reality...the material realm...
"well ah...'' -- she pauses...forming an explanation -- and then simply says: "you'll get used to it -- you haven't incarnated in a long - long time...haven't had a body in a long - long time...
who you are -- ? well lets see -- well your what is known as a "trans-medium..."
I ponder for her words for a minute...then i ask: "am i like the most powerful...? do i have like ah - all the psychic gifts? the highest you can go?"
she replies a clear definitive -- "yep. your the highest you can go -- you have all the psychic gifts...
I' am sending you little "hello" right now - you've kinda forgotten who you are...what you are...maybe you had to in order to survive...
i want you to come into "present time" imagine in your minds eye -- a chalkboard - write on the chalkboard the date and the year that were in now..."
I do this...i imagine that i write the date and year...hold the image in my mind...i feel different again...like i just woke up..
"ok good - better...good...thats right - call all your energy and "information" into present time...call back your "Seniority"
pull your "aura" in a little -- ok good -- no, thats too much --
you don't want to be in "survival mode" either...there ya go - thats right...your aura should be around 6-8 feet around you -- it was all over the place...that looks much better...
do you remember the time you looked up to the sky you were 15 i think and you asked god to bring you a person you could talk to? well here I'am...you called me in -- manifested me -- ask me anything you like...
my first and immediate response and question flew from my lips with ease...it was and had been the only question I had ever had...
"WHY am i here? in this reality -- what am i doing here --?
what is my purpose??"
she laughed again -- as if to say -- is that what you wanted to know -- thats an easy one --
"you came back to teach...you are kinda -- well no you are-- you are -- ah ---- your a god on earth...you came to have fun -- i suppose to experiment...with some specific intentions..."
marta never mentioned the word "witch" actually it was davey lowenstein who kinda brought that up and we adopted that phrase as a catch all for mystical or powerful people weve met a long the way -- witches are born not made -- gay guyz are born - not made -- geniuses are born - not made and true artists and poets and healers and shamen are born - not made---
i happened to be all of those or atleast marta seemed to think so ...
my mind was reeling - i was over loaded and over stimulated - now fully present i now knew why i was always in the cosmos albeit my body walking around and i visiting it on occasion... when it really needed me -
"A GOD ON EARTH..."
"ah ok --" i mumbled and trailed off...gone again...lost in my thoughts - the past - the present - the future...
it would take me years to process that first telephone meeting and her comment and ideas - integrate them and own them...
A god on earth --
I' ve been called "the devil" many times in jest for my sharp wicked humor and yeah devilish grin and laugh...
and at other time called a savior and angel...
i often thought to myself... A god on earth would not live in a rent stabilized studio -- would he ?
with never more than a hundred dollars to his name -- counting pennies for a pack of smokes or some bagels to munch on because i didn't have the cash to spend on a real meal...
but well fed spiritually, staying clean and sober...
spending my time making art - : learning to draw and paint and read and, write my poetry and life stories...
of course - writing them for you to read...
i'am here now with you -- guiding you on your journey -
a spirit with a body...moving through time - leaving a trail of my adventures behind --
that is my gift to you and to the world...
* * *
i come back to the present time and remember and reflect on who i was back then in 1984 - lost -- still kinda drunk around the edges and getting sober and detoxing -- and realizing who and what i was ---
it all seems like such a long time ago - another lifetime --
ive "re-incarnated" atleast a dozen times since then...
fresh from another near-death experience and a ten day hospital stay...
i feel love and empathy for that lost boy/man that i was...
now i was concerned with a medication schedule -- popping pills daily to keep me -- my body alive here in this reality --- my mind remembering other life times...
i felt old -- like an old - old - soul -- like the tarot card of "the hermit"
an old - kinda "yoda" type entity...
and then snapped out of it -- and thought of my Tv show and my personae that i had now -- it wasn't bad -- it wasn't bad at all...
i realized that i could "morph" and have many times...
at once becoming -- a hustler - stud -- yang filled apollo -
an alchemist...
an in the gutter drunk...a sex addict deluxx - a dominatrixx-master -- sex magician covered with tats -- a shaman -- a strange queer guru of sorts -- a victim - a hero -- a painter and esthete,
A jean genet-esque wanna be rouge giving blow jobs to thugs in an alley way -- a character from a john ritchy novel...
a codependent kinda emotional mess --
a sopranos type limousine driver...a chef, a butler and sometimes confidant to the rich - powerful and famous --
a lover, a fighter >>> a vampire...
a poet and healed healer...
a shaman -- a tv talk show host -- and now -- yeah a powerful gay witch --
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I silently pray to marta - where ever she is -- i lost touch with her years ago -- she was an angel along the path - that saved my life and told me -- directed me to what i'am and was...thanks...
* * *
i look out my hells kitchen studio windows and mumble the words..."row row row your boat gently down the stream...
merrily merrily merrily - life is but a dream..."
and what a dream it is: a dream of beautiful boys/guys/men...
the dream of an alchemist -- the dream of an angel who got too close to the material world -- fell in love with it and fell from grace -- earning my way back home -- to heaven...walking through hell...
* * *
a few years ago --
i was in the basement of the tenth street russian baths -- nyc's oldest turkish steam heat saunas. it was around closing time...
after baking and frying in the "russian heat" room and then dousing myself with ice water...i fell into a momentary haze or trance...the heat there is truly mind-altering...
you stand next to a furnace and bake your body - then you jump into an ice pool or throw a five gallon bucket of ice water over your head which are always collected from various spigots...
the intense heat brings you to another state of reality...an altered state...
many esetics attend the baths to discuss philosophy - practice "hot yoga" or simply meditate and contemplate...
everyone had left the basement -- it was closing time - everyone was gone but then i looked up from my trance...and i heard:
"row row - row your boat...gently down the stream --
yeah -- life is but a dream..."
who could that be ?
everyone had left -
i was the only one left -- i looked around...
mentally foggy and in a blinded kinda trance/haze momentarily from the russian heat and ice water pools...
i was trying to find my balance again before climbing the intense scale of the 100 year old stairs...to change back into my street clothes...and then leave...
just then the energy changed...something appeared before my eyes...a smallish man -- appeared to be around late 30s...
i instantly knew he had not been there ten minutes ago...
but there he was -- as if hed been steaming and soaking for hours and hours...
i knew he was a ghost somehow trapped in the basement unable to leave...
he manifested for me -- to me -- perhaps he knew i had the ability to see him...i knew he was an apparition...
"hi -- yeah - you have to go now..right? the ghost says...
he was excited to talk...and gazed toward me --
"hey --yeah don't worry -- it's all gonna be ok -- its just a dream...
ya know like row row row your boat...just like in that song...
life is but a dream..."
i gazed deeply toward him through the lazy hazy - watery chlorine mist in my eyes from the ice pool...i looked at him through the steam dissipating off the tile and floor...
then i turned around and he was gone....
life is but a dream...
yeah -- a beautiful dream...
spilling out of me -- into a new eternity...
a heaven on earth -- an incredible life...
be like water...
the sun set. i took my meds and zoned out on cable the rest of the night...
amen.
