I had a new insight playing Magic with (B.A.) last night, a more coherent presence of emotional bodies.  It was a bit of a healing of the disoriented void in the right side of my face.  This morning I felt a further liberation from the filth of Morton, Illinois.  That sentient beings should be asked to be loyal to a government as disgusting and amoral as that is absurd.

I still have difficulty accepting how much of the supposed “spirituality” of this planet is dependent upon being a responsible, bootlicking citizen of a giant pile of meaningless garbage, and upon wanting to have cocreative relationships with the ugly sordid half-assed twerps who want to see themselves reflected in its image.

The coven presence is very powerful, and is apparently helping me to locate myself from another dimension.

This morning I was “seeing” the “art” scene in Grand Rapids again, feeling even more deeply divorced from all of it.  I can still barely believe this is supposed to be serious.  But then I imagine some change will take place now.  I’m also seeing images of MHS, the degradation of having monsters like that destroying the lives of children, the trivial frippery of the Western School of Occultism and their pathetic nonsense about “obedience” and “duty” and “service”.  They can eat my shit.  Dicksucking fascists, all.  I said that last phrase aloud to myself as I stopped writing, then I went back and wrote it down.

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Aloneness.  I had my final session with [A therapist] and I am back here thinking about my life.  It can end, the twistedness can end but one of the great blocks is how disturbing and absurd the whole process is.  I am going to be able to articulate my rage against bow ties.

It seems like there were some people I was supposed to meet, or I thought there were some people I was supposed to meet, and I just didn’t, but I hung around the world for a long time looking for them.

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After tonight’s circle, I feel much more powerful, but I want the power to be clean, balanced, not causing any karmic ripples for me.

The story of this species is so repulsive, I don’t want to have anything to do with it.

Saw the Bowie exhibit.  I might have waited around to sneak into the Gaiman reading but “coincidentally” I spent the 10 dollars I had the night before on junk food.  And I had just lost my orange admission badge too.  Otherwise I would have hung in there.

At the circle that girl made some comment about how she wouldn’t come to me for energy healing.  I think I understood then that I’m not going to engage with this world.  I would just as soon be somewhere else.  I certainly don’t ever want to have another conversation like that.

However it was good to clarify that I am not service oriented.  There is a great collapsing going on.  I feel the pressure and I know I’ll have some interesting dreams.  A collapsing and an end.  Thank god.  Does that mean the Enochian magic is working?

Also at the circle I drew “verge in” “whore moans” — related to Qdishtu work yesterday (only yesterday).  So now there’s a whole field of information to explore.  I hope I can assimilate it all.

Making out with [someone] turned out to be most of what I wanted.  Then I went and got drunk.  Then I went back to [A.T.’s] to talk with her about the study group.  Then I took a nap.

The [sex magic] has certainly changed me.  Something very simple and yet very important happened.  I keep reminding myself that there are millions of people who have sex all the time who don’t have the other-planar insights I have.  And yet the change itself illustrates how much was lost in my life, how stupid and meaningless all the things I experienced were, how totally unimportant they are to me.  I can hardly wait to find out why it was important to experience this.  What a waste of time the chaos in my mind is!  And yet there’s nothing on this physical plane I want to experience.  These people are revolting and disgusting (the American people).   There really never was anything here I wanted to experience.

Daydreaming of Marlon Brando today.  Getting some better glimpses of the famoids and their place in the afterlife.  Some more visceral understanding of the disgusting crimes of [someone].

Calling in spirits I had a glimpse of something but I’m not sure what it was, now that I’ve tried to write it down.  I see Carol’s house, and how unpleasant everything was there.  At last I am getting around Nancy’s disgustingness.

It does feel as though other people are becoming “real” at last, and there is a state in which I can move beyond this filth.

It’s been difficult to move, or think of moving around.  I suppose the cold has something to do with it.  [That girl who sold me a bicycle] gave me an ale left over from her birthday party, I drank half of it and slept for several hours.  I was watching parts of interviews with Marlon Brando.  I feel everything is a lot more “real” now than it has been.  I’m on the verge of some transformation or release.

This story involves dozens of people (not counting the hundreds that I killed) and spans two incarnations for myself and many of the principals.  Since there are angels and powerful sorcerors involved, time gets twisted like a knot and some of it takes place in dimensions that will never be described by human speech.  Logically, a tale so complex and non-euclidian could begin or end anywhere in the United States during the last fifty years.  It could center on any one of a dozen themes: Nazis, the Spirit Clans, Arcangels, espionage in the Cold War and the New World Order, a love story that spans two galaxies and thousands of years, the history of rock music, a high school soap opera like “Harry Potter” or “Twilight”, the Return of Quetzalcoatl, the True Destiny of Aleister Crowley, alien invasion — it’s all in there.   I know what’s important to me — Jody — but what’s important to the world?  What do the Ascended Masters want me to tell you about the secret history of your world, and the real game that’s being played here in the time of the Octave Shift?  Thoughts are creating our world.  Whatever I write will have an effect.

Jody is whispering in my ear that since she died in 1990 she only really cares about that part of it.  So to help her wrap up unfinished business before we Ascend to the Higher Octave together, I hereby present you with a tale of the Battle of Good and Evil at Postal High School and how we defeated Dark Clan, once and for all.

Two days before my 40th birthday, and I am in the pits of caffeine withdrawal.  I have a goofy non-headache and the inside of my skin itches.  However I did quit very easily with the help of self-hypnosis, thank you, just as I quit smoking over two years ago.  I’m trying to remember if I have any other addictions to beat . . . anyway without caffeine and tobacco addictions, it’s pretty easy for me to lose weight so things are looking up in that area as well.

As for turning 40, I don’t have anywhere near the money I thought I’d have at this age, but I do in fact have something better which is a wide range of psychic abilities which come into clearer focus every day.

Oh, no!  I’m having a withdrawal attack and cannot finish this post.  God damn don’t ever let anyone tell you caffeine isn’t a serious drug.