Author Archives: Regnum Somniorum

4/19/2020 The 8th Habit

by

0

I’m picking up the continuity of my life now, I just got done with an amazing circle and now I can feel the spirit forces aligning in my life.  The drama of social distancing is ending.  I crossed the line from being someone who leads two lives, working during the week and seeking shamanic visions on the weekend, to feeling like a unified human being, working to bring the light and dark sides of my vision into one place.  I have so many visions, and they are all ecstatic, they are all fun.  But there are so many, the golden light is so blissful and expansive that I have to struggle to bring them down into something productive.  Because at the same time that I am having these ecstatic visions I have many exciting projects to undertake, many modes of expression available in the world.  How do I choose?  How do I organize?

I have to stick with the 8th Habit.  Modeling, I have to move through this chaos to what my soul wants, and at this stage that would be the pathfinding, wouldn’t it?

So if I’m finding a path through chaos, what is the goal?  Where am I going?  I have a lot of specific projects, but I guess the main purpose would be to get a handle on it.

It’s a while later, my dashboard says this post above the line was saved two hours ago.  I feel fantastic but it is very difficult to get my mind together.  I stopped there and took a picture of my Sirius Black wand, as a symbol that I am going to try to create something that will somehow coalesce my wild imagination into clarity.  I have lots of fantasies and daydreams about popular culture, and yet I am imprisoned by the forces of Saturn, the Dementors of corporate entertainment.

The issue isn’t “getting to work”, it’s finding something constructive to do with this state of my imagination.

Sirius Black

So I’m going to experiment now with the persona of Sirius Black.  This is my photo of official Harry Potter Merchandise, the Sirius Black Wand.  Sirius the star was sacred to the Egyptians, and the Egyptians called their country “Khem” which means “Black”, so I had this whole fantasy that the Black family were the ancestral lineage of the Pharoahs.  I made up a whole adventure where Sirius goes to Egypt to play the Game of Fate, and Bellatrix LeStrange follows him.

But that was just to get me started.  On a deeper level I’ve decided to explore the imaginal space of Mafdet, the Egyptian cat goddess, and while I’m at it I’ve included a couple of pictures I use as reference points for my guardian angels.  I’m going to get around to photoshopping some interesting stuff about them soon.   

I don’t know what any of it means, but at least I did something I can remember when I reread this 13 years from now.  I’ve started to find a path out of chaos.

Following up on Darkness

by

0

I haven’t reviewed what I wrote last night, but I wanted to note that I slept for a bit, and I do have a bit of a headache from quitting caffeine, but on the whole I am finally merging with my own darkness.  I feel more “all in one piece” than I ever have in my life.

I slept a little more.  I’m glad I made this blog public.  It was a very magical thing to do.  It changed some things for me very dramatically.  But now I just don’t think I’m going to look back on them.  I’ll reread that post in 13 years.  After so long of going around to events and getting information indirectly, I’m entering a mode of the final third of my life, I’m heading toward my death and I’m very comfortable with the choices I’ve made.  COVID-19 isn’t bothering me as much as it is some people.  I’m glad to be getting it over with.  I’m glad the old world is ending.  I don’t care what happens to the future.

All my experiments with social media are paying off, but ironically they are mostly showing me what I don’t have to say, how I do not want to be involved with people and how I do not want to present myself.  Things  I will never be involved in.

 

 

4/17/2020 Time has got nothing to do with it.

by

0

Brian Dennehy is dead.  “Time Has Got Nothing To Do With It”.  That’s a key song from my movie and I’m thinking of Brian Dennehy and I want his advice in the spirit world.  I just rediscovered this blog and I was wondering what to use it for, and now I think I’m going to use it for raw capturing of my insane psychic states.  My Tumblr will be for something else, and the one on my Wix site will be inspiring.  More important than recording the states exactly, perhaps, is to focus on what they communicate.  I was trying to overcome them completely but then I found this one with Brian Dennehy contained meaningful information.  So Brian Dennehy is going to be one of my spirit guides on the journey to the kingdom of dreams.  I’m very excited as I write this, knowing I’ve hit on something.  I’m pulled in two directions.  I’m glad the old magic is back.  I want to get my rocks off and post this, like Norman Mailer knowing I’ve slipped the hot beef injection into the collective unconscious one more time, but then I want to hold off.

And now I’m having a blast, laughing to myself about how crazy this is.  I have to move past “cadence” with it, though, as I write and not try to find meaning, but look for the rhythm.  I have to rock like Mick Jagger.

Bio

by

0

Jason Cunningham works with an angel named Kara to give advice on life issues in terms of spiritual growth and soul purpose.  He reads auras and uses astrological information to illuminate patterns of behavior, and also has attunements in Reiki, All Love, and Reconnective energies.  He has taken classes with [someone] and [someone else], and he is also a member of the Chicago branch of the International Association for Near-Death Studies, for which he is the bookstore manager.

2-26-2017

by

0

So he could see the red angel sitting across from him, with all the other people sitting around playing games.  She had something to say and she was coming through clearly, which made him feel good, but then there was this other aspect of himself that was confused and sad, that had developed in his mind a conspiracy of the Moons of Saturn, Mimas and Pandora, also Prometheus, I think.  But it was very like the tremendous fantasy he had had of that other time.

And then he had a bunch of memories that didn’t make any sense about conversations that had never happened in Grand Rapids, and a bunch of very weird things that had never made any sense, and also a lot of really stupid, ugly people who were never entertaining at all, and some place he could have gone to do something but now he was here instead and he had known a lot of people who were really revolting and seen a whole bunch of stupidity and suicide.  And he was going to get paid some more but there was some deeper magic happening also that he had some faith in, it was like he had emptied out his life and now he was going to go on into the future as something else, with something else.  And there had been a very dramatic daydream about the moons of Saturn, Tethys, Calypso, Telesto, etc.  And perhaps he should be thinking about Mimas.

So one the one hand, everyone was full of shit, but on the other he had just accomplished something and now a Red Angel was appearing to him. She reminded him of S. B. who had forgotten about him long ago.  And why was all the chaos? He wanted to ask.  Why was it important to see these monsters, to assimilate to their filth under the influence of phrase?  What was he supposed to be — and here he felt some flunky wanting to assimilate the same tired bullshit about choice and responsibility.

There was a car chase, indeed!  He had been replaying that conversation with E. S., thinking about the W. a bit.  It was working out for him, but he had to come up with a way to do it in the middle of this disturbing game of conservatives.  Earlier he had seen a whole parade of them and learned to say good night.

The channeling was picking up speed and he was indeed John Constantine, prowling around the night with a trench coat and a switchblade.  Then the tiredness came upon him, and it was like an episode of Star Trek, but he could look forward to the next weekend when it would all begin again.  It had never made sense, but he was going to get completely away from it and not have to deal with the dislike and the stupidity again.  At last he had gotten what he wanted, but of course he had to get a hold of Juliet.

Friday 2-24-2017

by

0

Willow was so cute, and then they came and got him and it was all over.  And there were some other strange things going on, but he had a headache.  Then he was thinking all about Joss Whedon, but eventually it went away and he did something else.  But there was a planetary influence and then he fell asleep.  And he could not believe Mr. Serious existed.  Was it possible that he was finally to be released from the tedious presence of Americans and their asinine life stories?  Their crass, empty worship of garbage?  The trivial teaching spewed by their berobed and beribboned twerp Masters of talk radio?  Cocreative ass-filth!

No, he lived now only for {J}, only for their partnership in darkness, ever receding from the silliness of the world, ever vanishing, escaping. What did Mr. Goofy-Cave have to say about it?  And you know this is all beginning to make sense.  So what if she was a moon of Saturn, she could have a boyfriend just like anyone else.  Well, it was getting better for him.  And then there was going to come a point where he would find something fun to think about, someone fun to think about, and it would be good for him.  He remembered the power, he remembered how he had always been alone.  He remembered things that were perhaps inconsequential, like hearing Jefferson Starship on the radio.  This was actually the world and I do wish for all these people to be better.

There was so much in the imaginal realm, and then there were other beings there.  And he wanted to talk to them, and he wanted to believe the rank idiocy of America and its cocreatives behind, and he was slightly disgusted at all he had had to sit through on the way out, and the disgusting emptiness of the spiritual paths the people had followed, and the putrid psychic aftertaste of monsters like {the reincarnation of Leni Reifenstahl}, and the fact that it never added up to anything that had been described to him by the insipid Cheerleaders of Light who were so perky and utterly empty as to assume entire lifetimes of yipping and yapping about trivial bullshit while the United States became a fascist emptiness.  We can end this any time you know, so please let’s do so.

Obey, obey, obey, talk shit with the trolls and obey.  “How about a straight answer to my question?” he asked.  And he tried to remember various thought processes so he could maintain his identity during their next attack.  He remembered what he had wanted to be, and then there was that terrible pressure, and something slipped in his mind.

{L} had been such a trivial fascist moron, it had to be true that the great councils of masters and teachers were just such morons, themselves, or why would they claim to be the self of such garbage, and the only presence power and intelligence animating them?  Why a life of unpleasant mediocrity with only sad phrases to guide me among the new fascists of Saint Germain’s utter obedience and choice?

2-23-2017

by

0

He could feel the magic sizzling in the air, roiling it and bending it.  And behind that there was the pale glow and the sense of space as the other worlds came into focus.  Earlier he had been looking at the picture of the master and he felt the movement of energy behind the presences in his mind.  Everything had changed, everything had moved, and as usual there was no explanation forthcoming, only an endless parade of obedience and servility, bootlicking morons cheerfully cheerleading their underlings.  There was nothing left in the world but rationalization and filth and death.  “Where can we all be going?” he wondered.  “And what difference can it make?”

He continually remembered a conversation he’d had with Nate years before, talking about how bad Jesus sucks as a spiritual teacher and he kept elaborating it in his mind, going on to imagine he’d talked about the Moons of Saturn and a lot of other stuff that made no sense.  George Lucas was watching him, he knew.  There had to be a way around it. But he had the power, he knew, he could feel them and hear them in his mind whispering about it, whispering about the things he could do.  He could feel his mind expand to incorporate an inner reality beyond the plane of Earth.  He had never really given a damn about the Earth, he supposed.  Or maybe he had and they had simply wanted to prove him wrong and humiliate him.  He couldn’t remember how it had all started.  All he knew was that the air was opening up and there were beings there.  Perhaps they wouldn’t judge him, but what difference could that possibly make?  It was all hierarchical.  It was all movement from bullshit to bullshit.  He could look back in time, look back over his entire life and probably back to the one before and see obedience and servility, pompousness and the love of emptiness.

But at least it could end.  He was probably going to yell at someone on the other side, or more likely just forget they ever existed.  They were meaningless twerps.  After all their talk of service, what had they served but mediocrity and filth?  What had they engendered in the world but pomposity and failure and accusation?  What good were those bow-ties and goofy trashy robes?

What difference does it make, anyway?  Soldier Field, the most sacred ground in America?

Across America, they were all reading his blog.  He was out on the cocreative edge of creation.  I believe my life is over.  They struck him with a scimitar.  There had been other lives before, and there would be other lives later.  I can only wonder now why it was so vitally important.  I can only wonder now why it was so vitally important.  But the portal was opening, and he was going to pass through into the infinite.  And there would be someone on the other side.  He was going home at last.

 

2-22-2017

by

0

“It was 1976, and I’d never seen a movie.  I never thought it was any of my business, but they were getting so influential that I thought I’d better. I went to see one on what I thought was marine life, but it was about a giant shark.  And I sat there thinking, I’ve crossed the dimensions to protect humanity from vampires and werewolves, and their own horrifying consciousness, and here they are paying to be frightened by pictures of a giant shark.  I started laughing hysterically.  I’m afraid I ruined the movie for a few people.”

“So do you watch movies now?” asked the sidekick.

“Not too many, but I do watch that one when I need a laugh.”

Her nickname was “Jaws”.  She was wearing thick black velvet and a necklace of rune-carved silver links.  They were the imprisoned souls of evildoers.  She had a short blade, like a long knife, of shining silver.  (Dakota Fanning).

Charisma, you’ve got to explain something to me.

“It’s a shitty business, but I’m trapped in it forever.”

Jaws administers the soul agreements.  When you see her naked she has pointy elf-like ears and she moves catlike and feral.

The thing is, it is so much easier to imagine now.  Years ago I would have thought, “How could there be a lost civilization?  How could an advanced civilization disappear without any trace but a few legends?  But over the course of my lifetime I’ve watched music and literature disappear, I’ve watched the postwar legacy of American leadership dissolve into soundbites and bullshit, I’ve watched religion become a tawdry farce, and I know now it is indeed possible for a civilization as technologically oriented as ours to fall into disrepair.  I worry that this will further lead to the dismantling of democracy in favor of fascism.

“So now we voyage across the infinite in search of happiness, in search of escape from the normality of Christians and Republicans and empty corpos who believe in nothing but money.”

“Kiss me!” she begged, and he did.

The energies came down around him, dissolving his sense of space.  The ancient ones were present in the light.  There were strange memories of the past for him to contend with, a sense of completion haunted him.  They were watching, but they would not reveal themselves until it was too late for him to do anything about bad timing.

He was convinced Martin Landau was watching him, the captain of Moonbase Alpha.  I have my own Moonbase Alpha, I now understand.  “What could you possibly want, directing your attention in that way?” he asked.

Then all was gone from him and a darkness flowed through his mind, drowning out anything that had gone before.  He had to keep reaching for something better so that things could change.  They seemed so sad.  “It’s going to get better,” said the Angel.  You just have to move deeper into the night.  She drew her sword.  And now what will I do?  He asked.

Buffy Redux

by

0

“I don’t know if this is Buffy Redux, but by making yourself do this you seem to think you will regain what you lost.  We are totally uninterested in these things.  We are interested in your assistance.”

“I need a kind of clarity in the upper right quadrant of my mind.  I need a solid frame of reference against which to test and surrender ego.”

“Quadrant 2 or Quadrant 4.  You will find.”

“Where are we going?  We’re going home.”

“Let’s have fun,” she said.  “And then there was some really great music on the radio.

“We’re going to figure this out, we’re only good and  bad.”

Movement of imagery.  “So you wanted to write fiction.  You are exceptionally stubborn.”

Obviously there’s someone here and I’m very happy.  “We are beginning.” Spiral, obelisk.

Light, dark.  Neil Gaiman, children, this sort of thing, a place in the world.  The other dimension became very thick.  There was nowhere to go.

All was dark, but the loft was vast.  “These are the aspects.”

The voyage, step by step.  They did indeed do these things.  It’s time for a big change, we can go back over it later.  Then the other spirits were there and they needed to make some kind of metaphor.  They live in cities.

And the energy came pouring in.  There was a sense of displacement.  It was his struggle to record all  that he had seen.  “I’ve seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.”

“We’re going to get this done, and we’re going to go farther.  We need a process to review this.”  “What are we building toward?”

Juliet.

The long, low, dim hall and there is Spike, growling about the future.  And then Shatner is talking about what is necessary to maintain order.  “And they are all terrified but this is an exciting movie, so of course they screw it up.”

George Kennedy is around.  Thinking about talking about about.  Thinking about the Archer and the Sorceress.

I don’t care about any of these things.  Martin Landau did some terrible ritual magic with James Dean?  No, I don’t know.  Where is the secret cult?  There isn’t one.

Then I was talking about the Stromkirk and the Stromgald.  Anthony Hopkins and all.  Who gives a shit?  What is this order?  The Bureaucracy.

Well, we need to be moving toward something.  I can’t be wasting my time moving toward this fucking crap.  I have to have some order here.  So the order is Kara?

I guess I have to straighten out something about Saint Germain.  And then I have to get clear what I’m doing here.  I start contacting Kara and then my awareness of Sandra gets stronger.  What if the Occult Bookstore crowd put black magic on me?  One of the illusions is of movement.  All right now, I’ve got to do something with this.  Martin Landau.  I wish I knew the fucking purpose.  The purpose is discovery!  Shouts whatsisface.  Where is the target in all this vagueness?  Juliet?

Deeper in the night

by

0

They were all together.  “Man, this is exhausting.”

“We have to clear this out,” said Carl.  “It will change.”

“I hate boredom.  Juliet Landau is watching me.  Of course everyone is watching everyone, but I have a task. I am a psychic.  I am approaching the infinity of Buffy.”

“I can’t believe you said that,” said Beth.  Outside, the wind howled.

“It’s just that something’s cracked and broken in my mind.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?  We have to go deeper into the night.”  The wheels were spinning in his mind.  “We have to kill the enemy.”

“Well, let’s go find him,” said Beth.  So they were out the door and down the street, looking for a man of evil, knowing that Zane was ready for anything.

“Buffy, I love you,” said Giles.  “I will be by your side forever.”  But it was only causing her turmoil because she knew he would never love her the way she needed to be loved.

“Well, fuck it, we need to know what we’re going to do, anyway.  We can’t wind beack the clock, but we can do something about the memory gaps.”

“It’s changing him too dramatically.  That’s why he does this and does that.”

“There’s some kind of compression, and it’s getting better and better in that direction.”  The scenes of the past were beginning to become real to him.  Hopefully there would be some other energy and things would feel better, but I read for this guy an hour and a half last night and it went extremely well.  I heard Humberto talking about me, but I don’t think it matters too much.  The spirit world is going to be there for me and with me so I need to make adjustments to that.

“I love you, Jason,” said Willow.  “We’ll be able to get a handle on these experiences.”

“But we have to find the villain,” Giles reminded them.  “I think it has something to do with suffering, but how would I know?  My depictions are based upon something else.”  So what happens to the junkies?  It doesn’t matter.  I just wanted to do the forgiveness thing, and now to some extent I’m involved in this other silliness as well.

Ho hum.  At least we’re all together.  That was important to me, not knowing how to belong to anything.  But then the white light came down, and the strange, distorting energy.  He could see other lights making themselves known as well.  Well, what are they all going to do, I wonder?  The point was that he was in the midst of a difference and he couldn’t tell anyone what it was.  However, he could do something darker.  Then the energy swept down deeply.

“We have to find a new language,” he said, “Or do we?  Maybe it’s Juliet Landau.  Maybe I’m supposed to talk to her.”  All he could hear was “Kiss on My List.”

Oh, and there’s stern, ugly Nancy who thinks she’s going to bark her little bark now.