The way it really is: I don’t like it inside Gods head, but here I was imagined and here I will remain until I’m forgotten, unless I do something disturbingly inorganic.
The problem is that I can’t remember if I didn’t like that pack of jackals I used to run with because I was railing against the inescapable mind of a twisted dreamer, or if it was because I was cultivating an unnatural seed inside of myself and those wild animals had picked up the scent and wanted to tear it out of me.
It is of course a bit of both.
But I walked away from those wild dogs, I didn’t run. I did yell, a regrettable but understandable wobble.
What I really want to talk about however is that seed, a suspicious spore if ever there was one. An alien God gave it to me, a giant.
I was a mortal peasant girl then, back on the planet earth in the 21st century. I was pretty well liked before that, but people, and especially wild animals, can turn on you in a heartbeat. My father always told me that animals were good judges of character, that they have good instincts and can tell if there is something wrong with a particular person. So clearly there was something wrong in harboring that seed.
Did I tell you how he gave it to me? No? Oh.
Well he had them in a little glass vial. It was almost empty. He poured the last of them out into his palm and blew them up my nose before I knew what he was about.
I told you that he was a giant? Yes, well he was, and he wore a yellow robe and matching pants. His beard was very long and full of those little seeds and the crown of his head was going bald so that his forehead looked extremely pronounced. It gave the impression that he had an enlarged brain. It was like the hair of a Franciscan monk, only the hair around the sides was much longer. It went down to his feet, same as the beard, and in fact, the two were tangled hopelessly together.
We met on a bus. It was there that he blew the seeds up my nose. I should explain that I most definitely inhaled them, without trying. It happened very quickly. That is how it all began, how I was impregnated with something paradoxical, something sacred and evil.
It germinated in the darkness inside my head and wound its way down my spinal column, then back up again, until there was very little of me left. What my mortal representation masked was in fact a tangled tree whose roots reached beyond my human nervous system into the deep, dark, and fertile abyss of the uncreated. It germinated in the temporary, but expanded into the eternal.
(A warning to innocent maidens; do not speak to strange giants or Gods, or their servants, if you wish to lead a simple mammalian life. Gods want but one thing with mortal women- to conduct unwholesome biological experiments.)
I have recently begun to produce poisonous fruit from which seeds may be extracted by the devious adept. I do not recommend that it be done without the supervision of a physician, one of those that wears the caduceus on the inside of their garment rather than the outside.
If however you hunger is severe and you aren’t doing anything important with your three dimensional body you might try it without supervision.
After all, "My body is my body, and my time is my time, and I’ll use them how I want to…" – some hip hop song from the 90’s, (I heard it in the first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Movie)
I certainly do as devils and saints do with my body rather than what my mother would recommend, and you can too if you so choose.
Labels: bardo, gods, lineage, seed, transformation, transmission