It’s like I’m reliving my entire life but from a different perspective. There is something like a definite ‘goal’ that I’m working towards but this is elusive. I’m in school being highly trained from a young age. This is all a blur of course. Time is compressed like the end of Dark City, when John Murdoch relives his life after being implanted with his ‘true’ memories that also train him to attack the soulless parasite aliens who are trying to steal his life force. Everything is highly idealized –– I’m living the life of the angel that rules me –– my energy body. Consciousness is a snare separating my perception from everything else. The phantasms of the grosser fields subjugate the demon decoder receptor wave. Hoarded by a glass casket, the angel annihilator of a hybrid mind in ghastly orbit mediates a penumbra. I will not wait for a flaming obelisk to thank me –– to solve the riddle of my past.

When I reach maturity, age ~18, I am loaded into a canon on a launch pad and shot into the sky. In the sky are coils of black and blue. The blue is like electric ether. The black is thick and ropey. This shaded dimensional whirlwind creates a double helix –– a warp zone into a planetary haze where the holographic fabric of consciousness melts into the signature of the unknown. Then I land on an alien planet. There are black horses that are made of wood or something. Plasmatic obsidian horses but like alien fauna or the primordial beasts of Sumerian myth. Basically I’m trampled by these alien horses in a field. I’m not even in pain. I feel nothing. Where the ground is and what it looks like is a swirl of dust and smoke. Then I’m grounded into oblivion –– grounded into the separate reality hidden by the clear echo of slumber.

I’m in a hotel that is hundreds of stories high. There is a room on the top floor where I’m staying. I don’t even know how I got here. Delirium. Blobs of energy like the insides of a lava lamp float through the halls. This is where colors scream and bleed. The air is fragmented. In the final chamber of the abyss of black thought I was entranced by a blazing spectrum. These membranes emanate dark energy beams––residuals of the golden core of wasted suns! The night reconstitutes itself. The multiplication of swords is lurking in the realm of shadows. Here I can see myself reflected through eternity. Unity of mind, unity of presence, unity of awareness. Everything is just super immaterial. I’m not alone in this hotel. Every room is occupied by hybridized archons of space, air and sound. This is like a cult. It’s like a school of totally alien intelligence that I don’t belong to. These things––they’re not even human. The hybrids exit their rooms to observe me, the alien. Colors become really dense. I’m awake. 

I’m on an airplane flying through a salmon colored sky. I look out the window and see a massive version of the black triangle Mulkurul stone from The Last Wave hovering over a futuristic city. The same markings and everything are on it. The Mulkurul stone was performing some kind of advanced skywriting, sculpting clouds into gorgeous and impossible patterns. The Mulkurul stone was also sculpting out dimensions of space and time and implanting explosions in the sky that were like ultra slow motion mushroom clouds. Everyone on the plane was in a state of panic but I felt that the Mulkurul stone was being playful. I argue with people on the plane and then wake up hours before I normally do and feel energized and fully awake, glad I don’t have to work today.

The Shadow Corpse

there was a psychic shift 
that i felt

erring on the side of fire

i would have bled
inside of a crown
inside of energy stone fumes

moon vapor core

disaster wave sound dome

the core corpse of
amethyst quartz

ore unifier

ephemeral trees
unborn prism matted

the circumference of sound

like all substances of air
melded into

higher forms of an ideal mind
the radial matrix

of higher ideas
of dark harmonics woven in the sky

space anomalies

sparking a wave of chaos

dark planetary shift siphon
the air into another dream