secular tuesday, drinking milk shakes, gazing at clouds, new ideas float through the abstract skies, mayan calendar blues and reds streak the horizon in a fishbowl soup of plasma static. the star people return, they weave around us invisible, they peer into our hearts and minds, like wandering angels, they gaze into the eye's of the maidens and men, they sometimes steal a memory or to, just to share around for the voyage home.
i saw my first star person when i was 3 months, i knew immediately as they hovered above me, i smiled and babbled away and they did the same. i felt happy with my encounters, they returned every now and then, through my childhood and left when i was about 12, taking with them my memory. often i still gazed up at stars, uncertain why, compulsion beckoned, unconscious attraction gravitational pull, some kind of mystery.
van had his astral weeks i had astral years, the waterboys had their sea, i had my ocean, simple minds had life in a day, i had eternity.
laster when i passed through the gates aflame, the star people returned my memory, they implanted me with a mission, for a moment i felt like jesus would have felt when he realised who his father was, or perhaps the moment siddhartha gautma sat under a pipal tree and worked it all out in that divine flash, the mind is the problem old chap, nothing else, so just wake up.
anyway's i woke and grabbed my waking stick, i'd picked it up in africa when i was travelling around with the masai jumping folks who seemed to have springs in their legs, a young tall ebony skinned youth called jason gave me his stick, he said carry it well and use it often. it was quite a big thing, intimidating and i used it as often for many years after.
there was a little commotion, the possums in the roof at mission control were screeching and running around, the cats were meowing, bats were shrieking and pan was pacing up on the balcony. i wandered outside and looked up at the full moon and stars. now in my iphone i often use an application called skyview, which is a 3d map of the night sky, indicating everything that you point it at, including stars, planets, constellations and stars and satellites, i have become very familiar with the orbit of the international space station, 30 people floating around us as we squabble and bicker, there's even a robot up there. i'm scanning the night skies when a shimmering form appears before me, closely followed by another behind me, they just seem to walk out of nowhere and they smile at me and one even winks. the star people return my memories and i loose any anxiety. they tell me about the next stages, they offer me abundance of happiness and love, and they say in their strange telepathic way, share it well amongst your people. so i give it away, here now, for free, come get all you need, i have plenty, compassion, love, affection, it's pouring out of me like a waterfall, like a volcanic explosion, the star people have blessed us all.
when i awake, the sea of tranquility has swallowed me up like a huge whale, the canyons of mars are embedded inside my cortex, everything is there, outside my head, accessed by no mind, all the answers lay in the empty spaces between, the dark matter is filled with little potentials, connected by invisible neurones. everything connects up, there can be no separation, says the walrus.
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