I am a Shroom Witch
Nature is my lover
We are made of portals
Wake up, it's time.
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@trippyinkwitch
I am a Shroom Witch
Nature is my lover
We are made of portals
Wake up, it's time.
Imperfect
It´s just so sad that wherever you look existence is imperfect.
Don´t get me wrong it´s beautiful and wonderous and worthy of every trouble
But imperfect...
To love and to die is imperfect...
To not love so imperfect...
To love and live forever and to turn love into boredom absolutely imperfect...
it´s just saddening... and in time, maddening...
-Yes, it is. But you said it perfectly.
i was afraid of you. you are fear itself
fear through action
the nine - the fire
cooking the mixture
the resistance
the friction
the break
-You have no idea what it'd all be without me - you said
this gratitude bullshit doesn't work with you
you are practical
you want results
I will give you results
The day approaches fast
must get ready, fullfil the pact
be gone for now...
Eagle Eye
getting closer to close
when it was fading you built a wall of bricks
my mind went back to blank
but this time i made it in
electricity and my third eye shook
don't be a coward
let it rush all through you
.
i saw totems turning and turning
a blind face
and its eyes
inside my brain
through the blanket
the Eagle came out
.
i see your darkness and i like it
you are lonely yet you fear company
those walls you keep rebuilding
but my heart like a wrecking ball
will continue to go in
disguise yourself a million times
and a million times i will seek...
My Green Man
-Rumi
God
the god I found looking through old drawers
feeds me images
fattening my sense
sickening my reason
takes me through his lanes
and when I dig too deep
he panics
i come close to the curtain
he yells at me
he stuns me
look here! You haven´t seen this yet…
but i have seen it
because i became him
and i saw what he saw
the void horrified me
but it conveyed peace
convulsing among “he loves me not” petals
i watched him suffer
alone in a corner of that chair
the most wise and archaic soul
is a lonely lost boy
stuck in the creating-everything
mutable nature
amnesia and memory
can´t go home
he watches her through the circular glass
without angles
he longs for her like us all
like me
and he screams at her
like me
and he despairs
like me
and he begs
like me
but I have a choice
he does not
exists or nothing does
primordial thought
so he hates and he loves
and becomes the sacrifice required
only his death means return
but, would you rather nothing existed?
she is patient
takes the screaming
she knows the finale
knows time is a circle
without angles
her dogs may scare us
but not me, not anymore
this is my last time
i continue because of him
no longer a father or a son
now is me
and now i am her
a complete nonsense
overflowing cups in my head
You May Also Need Some Lines
You may also need some lines everything is a symbol holding the pen is weird now the song talks to me or about me i can´t think of anything to write like i have no thoughts the song says new things my skin is so soft i like rhymes. no! i love rhymes time is the jail, escape i am here now my writing is different like this why won´t you speak to me? what is so beautiful? i am not afraid of you anymore i can dance with you and against you. we don´t have to choose right now inner speech don´t stop new page, new things time is just a word everything is a name my hand feels odd holding this pen but i want to write my hand is a giant my head too heavy resting on my fist check the time shut up check the time you changed your writing this pen feels weird life feels weird where am i? where is that? bound here with you free from above and eternity in between thank you for the music, is all i have to say and for the headaches and the poems intrusive voice, only voice a billion voices and the one i love i want to be you i want to be against you i feel bad for you no mystery, no stupidity wondering is such a wonderful thing my ears pop my brain is swell i reach the peak and i live i will make dinner now what should we make? not all poets live on coffee and cigarettes.
You May Also Need Some Lines (praecantatrix-xxxiii.ghost.io)
Please, don’t forget, I saw her almost die. That picture set my heart to a different throb. When that beat hit my chest, I was physically aware of the flesh my heart was made of. The beat stretched it so violently, it stretched it for good, and it has never beaten the same again. I thought I’d never get over it, and I never did. I was very vulnerable when I met her and I let her become everything.
And all that time she was in that house, she could’ve let go at any given moment, but she didn’t. Picturing her there, in the darkness, alone, every sound echoing endlessly, it hurts me deeply. All through the pain and loneliness, she held on. I arrogantly hope it was because of me. I prayed that I gave her enough to keep her strong, that she needed to find me again as much as I did. That’s why I let her go because I knew our bond was unbreakable. I knew she needed to learn to be by herself, entering the world without a safety net. If I would’ve insisted on keeping her with me, I would’ve watched her vanish, I know it. Because loving her was another thing I was doing for her as she was doing it for me. We made it into each other’s subconscious, and there I tried to feed her a new life, I insisted that I needed her that much. Everyone should feel like they belong in this world, everyone.
❤️🔥"I swear I used to see the devil when I used to look at her, those defiant eyes, and the smirky smile. But now and here, the same person has transformed so much that the old perception is merely a vague mirage, and when I look further in, there is this amazing woman gazing openly, lovingly and fearlessly at me. I can feel she is daring me now to look inside of her, when before she would push me to my corner she now invites me to hers, provoking me to jump into this sea of calmness and kindness. It makes me feel wonderfully bewildered.
“I am a bit confused,” I say, “I feel I am seeing a new person I have never seen before, yet your eyes are the same, your lips are the same, and your mysterious nature is the same... And to think that I loved the Charly you used to be, or better said, the Adam I used to be loved her. But I feel I want to know more now as I did then.”
Fragment from "Wild Weird Wicked Memories of Charly."
Available on Amazon (digital and paper).
Link in Bio❤️🔥
In order to remember dreams, one must have the intention to do so
Journaling dreams is the same as planting them
and witnessing them grow
The subconscious mind is always listening
and recording…
as I explore it, it becomes a person
an entity,
unknowable
and yet
a smoky mirror of the Self
I always took it for real
reflecting
my own fictitiousness.
“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.”
— Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 7: 1966-1974 (via thebrokenquotes)
IRON Sailing nightfall stars without access or exit Meaningless colours painting clouds made of dust where my SORROWS lived the ones I couldn´t leave behind. I loaded them into my ship until the end of times were they my friends I took them to the deepest of my abyss and I let them free. They cursed the heavens for forbidding them for denying them and by a liberation miracle into IRON of stars they transformed and they hardened my SPIRIT
A little Concrete Poem on that little thing called time.
Who are you?
The one who writes
Where do you live?
How many times have I drowned you
and you still live?
¿Quién eres?
La que escribe.
¿Dónde vives?
¿Cuántas veces te he ahogado,
y aún revives?