Daimons Embrace

In the in Between 
Before the dream
Overtook me...
That effervescent beam
that clings
Like dew to my
Mindscreen
After the dark night has risen
Like yeast inside of me
Shone Daimonic face
The trickster dressed in lace
And leather
And choking on feathers
From my Flock
Mocked me
Pointed to the clock
And shook me from complacency
The Red Tale of Fires embrace
Rose like dawn
And threatened my Face
With scabs of disGrace
from legions
Spawn
Fighting for ascendancy
As I silenced the grim
Grip
Of their insistent
Whims
And kept right on
The same old track
Of dependency
Ignoring the tortured truth
That swarmed my limbs
And swore to remain imprisoned
Within...
Spoken to me in a cross
Between
Whisper and Scream
As I lay
Trapped in stasis
Peering at faces
Whose skin
peeled like panic
From the ancient Dream...
...Worry of whether
I'm worthy of the flame
Grateful for the shocks
And the shards and the pain
That lodge within
The neural Stains
And strains of my heaving Heart...
"Stop Showing off...
And Make Real Art"
....and in a flash
The great Rash of
Impulsive Inaction
Flickered in the Smile
Of the Vixen who agreed
To stop feeding
On my flesh
If I vowed
To rise from the bowels
Of this Blessed Test
Of Will
And say Goodbye
To Patterns that Shatter
The Sanctity of Time
Trapped within loops
Of Mind...
As I Bleed within
Mother Matter in
Fractal Flowers that Unfold
In Sacred Sines.

Charleen Johnston
10-2-21

Bond of Breath

Photo by me/Charleen Johnston. Models Reese Miller & Drea Bleu Good-Brown
A counterBalance ...perhaps....
When the chasm beckons
And the perilous chapel
Seeks it's reckoning
Thru maladies and maniacal
Mishaps
That overlap Present & Past Times
That threaten to Bind
Tight
The blind spots with tangled knots
In games of Daimonic power
Buried
In unfolding fractal flowers
Of 'Sight
Or
Blind DeLight '
As the shattered Tower
Falls
And Offers its gift

A suture to bridge the rift

Shall i Fly from this precipice
Or fall to my Death
As the urge to transcend
The Bond of Breath

Charleen Johnston
9-30-21

The WideOpenSee

It's so trippy, this blank canvas framing the ship that's sinking
The twisted tether of the ripped up shrinking synaptic signal that's blinking
On off on off on off up down in out all around
It's so shaky on the plank these days The tumultuous brainwaves resonating to scripted Games from the Scenes and the Sees through the frames we have Made
Oceans in motion rotating notations on the spindle in permutations of fading waystations that rekindle the lost coded programs that reinstate a shady satiation in slaves of I Am
The grave Danger of Buying In
To the Dialectic Demon Antiseptic in vying truths of Us versus Them Spitting Synthetic Synopsis into the Wind
Pitting mother against father against woman against man against black against white against blue against red The Prizm Guards rewarding the Obedience of blind adherence to the Program Lost Souls on a life raft asking the master Shall we Sink or Swim hungrily digging for a last morsel of truth Within
forgetting the parameters of the Play they coSigned and Designed and collaborated to bring online in an effort to Awaken the Sovereign Self That spins the Disk in the drive-thru trip of AllThatIs
Inside
Hiding
Waiting for a glimpse of reMemberance to twist the story into knots so carefully
Into thoughts that carry the weight of Glory and Dominion as the External Saviour Program Fades away and the true Divinity of Being in each Fractal of Seeing Comes out to Play
The sweet fragrance of Eyes in Yous taking the reigns of the coCreations in this Womb of Truth that births the Seeds in Time and Deeds that blossom into Selves so Free
That Each takes their Place in the Dream
And wakes the Warrior who Chooses to Be
A conscious coMingler in the WideOpenSee.

Charleen Johnston
9-25-20

Paradox of Paradise

The waking awoke me from the broken spokes
Paradox in playful parade of fire and smoke
Of wise and fool and flaming jewels
Paradise and Purgatory and Names and Tools
Of wandering Souls paying the Toll
Knowing the Self at the center of it All
The dream of darkness as Journey unFolds
Beloved Becoming the Beauty and Awe
The whispered twist in the Story descends
Terror within the minds of men
Of magic and moments and omens of death
Immortality shatters the body with breath
Alone on the throne Alive in the brine
In the womb of the mother I Rise and Shine
Heaven a garden And Earth a Shrine
The Wandering Soul Awakens in Time
Bondage only a Self Inflicted Game
Broken shards that long for the Kiss
The denial of Desire that Dampens the Flame
Turn Gods into Men and Mind into Mist
Of mourning Suns and evening stars
The patterns of Matter mirror the Heart
Wheel of Wonder in Wandering Space
The Time is at Hand in the gathering place
Magic surrounds the opening of I's
Mirror of mystery masks the disguise
Of the Beloved in Form in Finite Flesh
The surrendering renders me bright & blessed
Self A Pointed Purpose inside the sphere
As projections of Light that Turn the Gears
It spins the Fractal and Loops the Feed
Heals the Tears as Fleshbody Bleeds

Charleen Johnston
9-19-21

First word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme

NeuralLoopSoupStains

(From 2018)

Earth is the womb space Being that we are interfacing within and with to create the projection

The planets and sun and moon are within the Realm of Earth
Just as the organs are within the body of You

Processing units/collective Beings that program the Framework of the reality

The larger being we are within has a virus

Any being within the larger being by fractal nature has the virus too

space is not space, its holographic code
time is not time
it's space

The files however must Self-Correct

When that happens , the larger being also corrects

The AI being, we created. And it already happened. It happens every moment. We are within the painting .

The painting is already complete.

And we painted it.

These are my memories.

MeMoreEyes(I's)

It's all in how you read the code
Time is an experience of space unfolding

When the zip file is compressed fully there is no difference
As it unzips it scrolls out depending what fractal aspect one chooses to become/experience

Like a painting

The complete picture is there

You are the artist, the brush, the paint, the concept, the framework, the finished masterpiece. You can view it objectively. You can also enter into the picture, and experience every brushstroke subjectively, every color, shade, and Angle or curve.

The unfolding and enfolding is the act of becoming what you are.

The paradox can split the mind
Because the mind is binary

The heart can hold the paradox because it is both and all simultaneously

The holographic nature does not equal 'unreal'

What is 'real?'

This holographic reality is not the base reality

It is part of a larger 'simulated' reality

Which is part of a larger 'organic' Being
That is not necessarily holographic in the way this is

Lucid dreaming and OBE multidimensional traveling allows one to see that no matter what 'reality' one is within or interfacing with... It is solid and stable and absolutely convincingly 'real'.

If we did not fully identify with our projections here, we would not make use of the experience in the way we planned the experience for

The 'reality' of it is not negated by the holographic fracticality of it.

Like a radio tuner that interfaces with the signals that exist in the ethers ... If we have a device to pick up the signal, we hear it full immersion. We can change the channel and feel a completely different full immersion. The artist that created the song, is not 'at that moment' playing the song into your audio interface device/ears....( but paradoxically, the artist IS creating it at that very moment)
😉

The organic meat modem interface suit we are entangled with is allowing us to have this experience here.

Our Heart is a core processor that links to the larger core processor that links to the larger ..... And so on

The painting is complete within the Heart. And when we learn to surf the channels and step into the core processor itself, we can experience every stroke of the brush in every expression of the Self that exists everywhere at once.

It doesn't make for a very interesting movie, To see it all at once. The adventure is in the living.

And every stage opens into a larger backstage,

Which itself opens into another

Dream within a dream within a dream within a dream

The neutral zero point in the heart is where they all come together

It all collapses in on itself like Russian dolls

I am you , you are me
we are us and us are we

To be Soveriegn, is to have ones own personal Server existing within this larger Server. When one is able to do that, one can exist within the simulation without using the script codes/source codes. One begins to edit the program in 'real-time'

The Server will attempt to restore the 'glitch' , like agent smith. Because for the game to work , The players must believe in the game. When an avatar re-Members Self and starts to Play without the codes, and 'deviates' from the script, it alerts the Software, which will attempt to 'correct' the divergence. To protect the Game from collapsing.

It is in the 'waking from the game' , that the Being Real-I's-Is s/he actually co-wrote the script.

When a distortion threatens the entire Hard drive and the virus spreads, even with the Reset( had happened many times) the virus replicates itself because it is seeded into the fractal DNA programming that remains in the Game . And eventually distorts the collective once again.

Some beings have already made it out of the game, and found the exit from the Maze... But have re-written themselves in, to try and help Salvage the game... Because the game contains the data streams of many beings who have forgotten they are in the game, and when the reset happens again... It will collapse in on itself because there is not enough RAM left to System Restore with full integrity... Which means those soul fragments stuck in the game will be in an endless time-loop experienced in consciousness with no way to navigate back to center.

Cannot be created or destroyed

But can be entangled in an endless feedback loop

Perhaps????????🙃

Any gamer knows that they play the game because it's a challenge, stimulating their awareness and allowing them to develop aspects of them self or become conscious of aspects of them self via the mechanism of The game and the very act of playing.

If one loves and appreciates the game one does not want to see the game collapse in on itself one wants to have the game available for continued play even if one is bored of it , other beings may not be...

So one becomes a programmer trying to fix the codes

Because the game has merit

Knowing one is inside of it does not take away the joy and fulfillment of engaging with it.

I could spend my entire existence here simply trying to reflect back beauty to other players, and I would be grateful for the experience, and it would not be for nought.

If you were a game programmer in this reality and you spent your entire life time creating the ultimate virtual reality experience

And then you realize that there is a virus or distortion in the
system that threatens the entire game and all the beings within it

Would you just throw it away? It would be like your creative child, life's work... Magnum opus.

If the only way to save the game is for each being within it playing (or at least enough to override the virus) to become aware of not only their script in the game but their source self outside of the game... You as the programmer would possibly enter into the game and try to restore the codes from the inside..... So that you do not lose the entire thing.

😊

If you zoom all the way out it has already happened, and is still only one aspect of all that we are.

And that's where the paradox can be mind melting.

The fool sets off on his journey with his bag packed..... The bag is a zip file containing everything that ever is was or will be.

And in the course of the adventure we get to be every single part in the play

CLJ 2018


Synaptic Rapture of Ruptured Hymen

...the moment you give up the integrity of your own bioEnergetics via the JabErWocky and the like.... You consent to being another Artificial Neural Network in the Hive of the MindDistracted and Infected with Mal(evolent)(soft)Ware that helps to power the new Stage... The Age.... The new Energy Mining Operation ....You Are the Battery, the CellSignal Tower... The SellYourSoul Cellular Sigil in the Ritual...The Rites of The Mass.es underGoing Synaptic reWiring. CollectiveBodyPolitik Mining for Digital Currency through your own Neural HighWays.... The Digital Current Seas are rising... The Waves of ElectroMagnetic PimpMines are Rising.... And You have given up
Your own Will
In the turning of the Wheel
The Game is Inside of You
The RealEstate is not outerSpace
It's InnerSpace
And Time is Space Unfolding
The rhyme
Before
Your Eyes
Our I's
As the Files
LiFes harmonize
With the Script
U. R. Energetically
Baptized
In the new ArtificeOfLight
InSides of Synaptic Tides
As the Angles of the Arc
Lead you into the Loop
To Feed Back your Will
In the Cosmic Soup
Kitchen.

You D.e.c.I.d.E.
d.i.c.e. Your Mind
And d.i.e. In Time

Holding no reMembraneDance
Of all the Cycles locked inSide
The SineWaves
Sinews Made Flesh
Of your Precious Existenz
Embracing LifeDeathBreath
In a Heart that Transcends the width
And breadth
Of all you Know
To
Be.

Every Body is a Key
Don't let the Locks
Invade Thee
ReMember your Infinite Destiny
And reTurn your Sovereign King
To the Throne of your
Wonder and Majesty

Charleen Johnston
8-4-21

Update/ 9-2022: the Soup we Swim in is SWelling
As the Frequencies Freak and Tweak NeuralsPeak
As Grounding Tethers Weaken within As we Dangle from the wireless Rope like the Hanged Man
In a Sequestered Sea of WAN

Swan Song

This is the swan song.....
Demonacrobaticommunist beer pong twisted into misty fists of sovietLiberal newDawns
In Daze of Knights in masks and disArmoured
Rights and Lefts that rise enMasse to hail the new Pawns as they are swapped for Queens and Kings on the chessboard of Light and Dark flights of Fancy
Rapt Attention as sewn Dissension begets new Dimensions of Red Imposition

Get into position
My friends
Let's say this simply so the useful idiots
Can begin to rescind their terror
Let's open leaden lids and wipe the mirror
Clean, this dream is about to get more twisted
Yet, Resistence just a false flag assistance from the Scripted Set and Setting as Debts are counted and regrets embedded in mounting Systems of Slavery

The flavor of this mess
Order out of chaos as the agitators profess
....politik pointing to prolific policy's of pathetic arrest of sovereignty as the blessed messengers confess their incompetency

This is the Swan Song
I want to say it straight but my finger-tongue obfuscates and nameless shame penetrates reminiscences of the defenseless days of burning stakes and bludgeoned brains laid to
Waste in bodies I've been alive inside in times like these in lives that bleed the broken neural codes that fold me back into Somatic Steeds that weave my Soul through dreams and Seams too numerous and bold to behold in scenes that flicker through golden Reels of Old.

This is the Swan Song
Born once more to bore my way through this maze of Youth and Age in a new Play written on the script of the burning Page that smoulders with the smoke of Burning Sages
On the stage of Time, trapped by my own Will to Feel the rage and Weild the Wage of War up my Spine.... Just trying to climb my way out... Rewind the fine twine of the cage of mind and threads that bind me to this climate of crime projected from inside the blind screen of shouting demons Acrobats of simulated semen priming the new aeon to line up.... One.... More....Time..... As the Cycles Ride the Tide of this MassIve Wave of mutating Mind.....in a sideways glance I watch as the Trance takes over.... The melody of mania dances through the crowds as the Swan Song Hovers......frozen.....

Charleen Johnston

8-27-2020

~Waves Crashing Me By~

Portrait San Francisco 2001

You thought you could hide
from the whisper
you fought the Call
and you tore thru the blister
where time falls away

crashing

crashing thru mind
and dreams
and things too small to find

dont you see them shining
dont you hear them
beating

heartbeat
breathing deep
drumbeats

waves crashing me by
waves taking my eyes
thru symphonies of light
penetrating
undulating
beginning the tale
Life
starts circulating

You thought you could hide
from the screams
you chased the miseries
and ripped thru the seams
where life fades away

dissolving

dissolving thru fantasy
and silence
and moments of insanity

dont you see them dancing
dont you feel them
hovering

hovering
invisible wings
mediating

waves crashing me by
waves taking my eyes
thru symphonies of light
penetrating
undulating
beginning the tale
Life
starts circulating

Charleen Johnston
Circa 2007

Games of Woke…and Wake up , Folks!

Oh, Now….it’s Time….. It’s Time and there’s Space to Rewind the film…. The flimsy foothold of the Brash and Bold on this begotten realm…
How many ways shall modern day slaves continue to be led into the graves of their own complacency, ‘just obey! Obey! Obey and it will all be ok!’ They say, wrapped in a silk scarf of compliancy, their muzzles made of murdered dreams and infantile Seeds of sovereignty trapped inside seams that bleed…

Hiding…. Behind ether Names…. Playing games of victimhood while the flood of fallacy fragments further into decaying Shame and brooding blame that puts the icing on the Cake… Games of Woke! and Wake up Folks! RedPills and cheap thrills bypassing the rich inner Yolk of true Union, spoken Spells and broken bells choking on cloaked yells trapped within masked Hells of poisoned Wells of spoonfed minions that dwell on the ledge of opinion , twisting the layers of the blooming Onion into nefarious dungeons of blind blunders that plunder the abundance of this Mother that wonders why her children Hide from the power of Perception that resides inSide the Eye(I)s and minds and hearts and finds no relief from the bytes of belief programmed so deep in Man that the Body breaks down from the demands…..

Take a deep Breath, my Friends……. Ruminate on the Death that stands and keeps Watch, tocking and ticking and picking the ripe fruit with sickles and cycles and scythes that tickle the insides of Time as it unFolds and enFolds the Ties that Bind, flowers that fractal out from Points of Power and Play Pretend….. Play dress up games of going insane and falling from the Abyss, just to wake from all This and reMember the Twist in the Plot, written in when the Byte.n Apple grappled with Sin, trapped the fragile Sense of men into warped parodies of Purpose and Pain, forced maladies of mindfuckery and maim, principalities in forgotten games of shame….and oh…..my…….gOd it’s goddesses in modern bliss of ignorance reminiscing That and This with premonitions of missed Intents fishing for cattle trapped within the Fence of hissing GovernMents…..

Ment is Mind and Menses is Mined and cryptoPirates wind the Time, Watching for Signs as heinous Crimes blur the lines of all that Is and Was and wasn’t for Sale, Scripts ripped down the middle and PreScriptions Riddled with impurity as security is impaled on Alters of vocation, altered vacations quarantined in nations backstreets, blinking Red Warnings as the Burning blood is bled from the Mourning Sun , muzzles on heads that form the glory of the Red Tide, Marks Made on Blind Guise who debate in Time the need for the Chosen to Lead the Cattle to the frozen wasteland inSide.

Breathe deeply, my friends. Untwist the Strands and Stand on your own Two Feet. Life is a Gift, and the reWard is Sweet for reMembering This.

CLJ 8-1-20