Love is Free~Life is Play
Constant birthing of Self
Into and Out of Wombs.
Clinging
to the walls of Maters Form
and Expelled
thru the portal of the Mobius Worm
to find the Inside is Outside
in this hall Of mirrors;
Matter in moments of Paters mind ,
patterns playing
with ties that bind,
the shell never breaks
but breathes,
fractal map of Eternity
11-24-2025
Latency
I drip thru the torus
Teardrops from the eye of Horus
Saltwater brine
Twisting thru time
On the sacred Lathe
Of Space enTwined before us
I sip From the rushing river
Lethes wisdom wakes the shiver
Of ancient lethargy
Sacred reveries
Swimming in the lethal loam
As broken Looms quake and quiver
Within the honeyed marrow
Within the cherished arrows of Eros
As Psyche sorts the seeds
……as she parts the lips of the Dead Sea
And whispers the sacred decree
As the faded dream learns to bleed
( soft wet tongue of love peaks thru
And speaks truth
In the shape of of You~s and Me~s)
CLJ 8-9-25
….and awareness on thru-out the day, are the things that are the most alive within us at those moments, so yes, they are definitely dynamic, and multi layered, just like dreams, and I’ve found that I will exhaust a dream symbol and then a deeper level of awareness belonging to the symbol manifests, and so on, till the same thing means ten different things, depending upon the plane you are connecting with it on.
I like to think of objects as flirting with me, what I would say as happening when you noticed the smokestack and sidewalk being alive, when an object or even sensation catches your awareness, and you are attracted to it, for whatever reason, I would say it is flirting with you, with your awareness, and if you flirt back, you can go into a really deep experience, either of communion with the object or you can be put deep in touch with the corresponding impulse/object within yourself. I see those moments as potential portals to other dimensions of energy and awareness if they are utilized. It’s like lucid dreaming, twenty four hours a day, if I’m aware of objects in life the same way I’m aware of them in dream, and I navigate via my flirtations with the world around me, I remain lucid and clear and vibrant. It’s when things no longer catch my awareness, when they no longer needle their way into my attention, that I know I’ve become dull and stagnate, my energy is blocking the penetration and invitation of the object that is offering a chance of exhcange and communion with me. I know for a fact in my own experience, and from what I’ve heard and read, that objects dont appear the same on every vibrational level/plane, for example, when I am having an out of body experience, I may be in my own bedroom, but its not EXACTLY the same, each object tends to have an essential quality, and that quality is expressed differently depending upon the level of density of vibration it is percieved in. So a lamp may be a bit different, in structure or size or color or whatever, though it is in the same spot. Same with a couch, etc. So I have found that some of my objects in my home become more and more related to me thru percieving them on a more conclusive level of vibration/awareness, I see more of their essential quality, that is, and so I feel more in tune with it, more than just as an object taking up space, this is true for outer environments too. I have found that the deeper you go, into the frequency of awareness, the less definite things are in relation to the outside, concensual world. So if I am out of body and I am still at a density that can nearly move an object, or that may possibly appear to someone as an apparition, the environment I’m in will nearly exactly reflect the 'waking world’.
But if I move, with more and more
clarity, energy, and concentration, to a higher frequencty, the more and more shadowy the realms become and the more fluid my body becomes, and the more things are happening at onece, and you would need a deeper and deeper capacity to hold and channel universal energy at this point in order to hold your awareness at that level. So that to me explains why accounts of out of body travel/projection vary so much from person to person. Because depending upon the level of vibration of the persons
'soulbody' energybody dreambody whatever you want to term it, double, or whatever, the environment and the sort of experiences will correlate. So those who have a better capacity to hold highly charged energy and awareness would tend to have more experiences on the 'higher' planes, and it seems that the
"higher' or more intense the vibration, the harder it is to navigate concsiously, that is why discipline/practice/and healthy living contribute to a deepening ability to traverse more intense layers of experience. You can contain more of the world around/and thus inside you.
Someone who doesnt have
the capacity to hold energy sufficient to stay in a certain 'plane' would tend to have a negative experience of it, because the frequency bears down upon one with intensity, like pressure, that is so 'painful' that you can’t stay aware at that level for long … it feels like a huge current of electricity running thru you, numbing you with pain, until you drift back 'down' to a level more in keeping with your current 'charge' capacity, hmmm. I find that I used to be thrown into a high level energy when I smoked herb, I would have access to deeper vibrations. However with long term use, I have now found that it deadens my energy and dulls it and makes it heavier and denser, so that instead of boosting me, it blocks me….
~Charleen Johnston, excerpt from a correspondence with a friend in 2002
“Seaming is interwoven into everything I do….I consider myself a Patchworker of Dreams….I pull disparate parts together in new and playful ways, whether my base material be Fabric, Thoughts, Feelings, or Movements. I am Self Taught, a Self Taut InTensions of Multiple DiMensions playing with the poles of the Line, the Cycles of the Sine, the Twists of the Twine. When I create clothing or costumes, I almost always use reCycled materials. These pieces of clothing or fabrics hold the Stories of those who have Worn them or used them. I can feel these stories, they whisper to me, they scream at me, they want to be redeemed, reDeemed necessary and functional. Torn apart at the seams and merged with other Pieces of the dream, and reFashioned into a new expression. A more fun and unique, quirky, comfortable, playful and passionate arrangement. This process is not unlike the deeper mysteries of Spirit clothing itself in the garments of Body….The Soul is in the Seams….the Memories of the places in which we have Grown Together, Come Apart, Merge and DiVerge and play as inFinite Stars of the Dream. The 5 most basic elements of Fabrication are Scissors, Needle, Thread, Fabric, and the Self Who guides the Seams. The Fabric itself, is made up of Thread, and one could say that in taking the fractal deeper to source, the Loom is the higher octave of ‘fabric’. The Loom is the primordial structure on which the warp and weft of the the threads of Self are woven. That initial fabrication then becomes the malleable material in which we Play. But lets not go too deep quite yet.”
Charleen Johnston 2020
🔥🦂🔥:::WordsJustCameOutWrong:::🔥🦂🔥
(AfterFace of volume 6)
I like to say Words are Worlds......Words are also Wounds and Wounds are Worlds....and if we are perfectly honest, All Worlds are Wounds. And I am unraveling my World as I unravel my Wounds. I have been Wound so tightly around a core of Intensity, and overwhelming personal psychic interrogation for my entire life, that I have produced a ridiculous amount of Words in various forms, either to Cover over the Wounds or to Unwind the Covers. I am unsure which. A bit of both. But In diving back into the World Contained in this Tome of descent…..I have been reliving the emotions and confusions and I am emerging from this ritual as if from a Tomb. Yes, Words are Also Wombs.
My Words are often the result of entering the Portal of Some Other, either in the waking world or in the vast internal realms I inhabited. I have always lived mostly inwardly, with a rich and sometimes disastrous inner life. Some of these poems are written from the perspective of the many battling inner realities within me, with no mirror in the physical world. I have always been submerged in what I call 'Bleedthru-s of Other Lives'……Psychic fragments and scars and
emotions from Characters I have played before in other timelines, seeping right through my seams. My inner realities have always been more solid and real than my outer reality. Some of the poems are written from my own witnessing of friends dramas etc, and writing from the perspective of the players in those games. Some are archetypal expulsions of raw material suffocating me endlessly. But most are mirrors of some outer reality. My protean obsessions and compulsions always dragging me one way or another. The repetition of the theme of Love and Pain and Misery and Darkness and bitterness. The depth of my own emotional life was never expressed to any person in those years, in fact, that theme has held for my whole life. I have always turned my psychic and emotional disintegration into Art. Not because I don't trust people. But, I believe, I learned way back then…and find it still true today…that most people do not feel as deeply. Are not so completely consumed by passing moods or inner landscapes and are not so tangibly sculpted like putty by their inner reality. Those who are, have left behind all the great Art and Writing and Inventions of our Collective World Stage. Or they have drowned themselves in addictions because there was no way to silence the Demon, and there was no leap from the abyss to follow the Daimon into Alchemy, instead of suffering the excesses that Demons love so much. Or they have been given any number of psychiatric labels and then pharmaceutically numbed out of life or locked away instead of facing the abyss head-on. Or they have simply, chosen Death head first.
"Thus I draw from the absurd three consequences, which are my revolt, my freedom, and my passion. By the mere activity of consciousness / transform into a rule of life what was an invitation to death-and I refuse suicide." (Albert Camus)
Mostly, people try to commiserate, if I actually let out some of the depth of what I am perceiving or feeling or living, or what I am making flesh. I have often responded, that if they felt and saw and bore what I bear, relentlessly, they would be, like me, forced to alchemize it in some way or to destroy themselves. The kind of charge, the voltage of energy I am talking about, constantly pressing in upon me, is not the kind of fire or electricity that can be safely tucked away behind a netflix series, or a bottle of wine, or endless shopping, or endless socializing, or even hobbies.
It cannot be stored in a back room and allowed out when appropriate. It cannot just 'wait til a better time' to make itself known. If someone is able to
'basically get on with their life' by drowning out the voices in any number of ways, they are not in the heat of the kind of flames I am talking about here. One may say that it is the human condition. Yes, in many ways it is. But it is a particular condition that only some people choose to incarnate into here in the Playground. It is a particular wiring, a certain blueprint. And they either learn to dance with it, and create great beauty or alchemize it in some way, or they destroy themselves and others completely. I do not believe there is any middle ground. Not for this initiation. Nothing about this kind of intensity allows for a 'normal life'.
We don't know that when we are young, however. We think if we just condemn ourselves enough for our Inner Fire, we will eventually settle into some typical way of relating to Self, in a controllable world of other people doing people-y things. We think if we just stop doing A, B, or C, or if we just Try Harder to be setted and content within our skin, we will alter the program. If we just make up a bunch of rules for ourSelf and stick within them, or follow someone else's rules of virtue, we will be free. But I have learned over and over, that there is something innate to certain people that will never allow for that. There is an inner prod that has no care for our human proclivities or our body's limits. It will not let us rest. Every moment is lived in absolute Intensity, whether that be the heights of the Manias we find ourselves in, when the blood is quickened within and we are a tornado of exuberance and god-like arrogance behind a bright and radiant smile of possibility. Filled with endless ideas that stream out like a broken water pipe and saturating everything and everyone in the vicinity. Or when Icarus' waxen wings melt and he falls from the sky in a dramatic display of descent back to Saturn's humus, humbled by the tumble from the lofty perch of our own ideals and effulgence.
What else but absolute obsession can make a person spend hours upon hours upon hours of days upon days upon days upon weeks and months and years focused on bringing to life some particular little nuance of their perception and participation in AllOfit. The Daimon drives us. And not All of our Daimons are playing the same game. And I have, after 44 years in the Playground, found a way to dance with that realization. It no longer destroys me and everyone in its path. I know a great many people afraid of being hurt, in Love. I am bass ackwards. I am not afraid of being hurt. I am incredibly reluctant at this point, to allow another to be hurt by me. I saw these patterns even back to this earliest poetry and was aware of the various warring selves within me. The Fire warms but also burns. It lights up a room but also sucks all the oxygen out of the air. Not all things and beings can handle the heat and intensity of a Being who is able to exist only at full throttle. At least not in close proximity for any length of time.
I have learned to create vast amounts of Space for myself, and vast amounts of Time for myself, to make of my life a sanctuary where I am fully aware of my strengths and weaknesses, and thus able to now use my gifts in Service, and minimize any fallout from my own perpetual emotional instability....(which all things considering, is very mild compared to the bulk of the prior 30 years).
A testament, these 600+ poems are, to the desperate restlessness of an unfolding psyche, that could only vaguely intuit, at the time, what lay right around the corner. It was only one full year later that the major confrontation with Self and the dissolution of everything I had begun to believe was me, was to take place. (See Volume 5)
I see in these poems all the foreshadowings that came to delineate the myths of my life, in germinal form. I have simply unfolded the tapestry through time. And now, as a ritual release, and as a precursor to Drawing My Stories on the Skin of this World, these Words Made Flesh are the final recapitulation of a long Poetic journey that has led me to this point in time. And I am casting off the garments of the old life, again, this time to be born anew without carrying the weight of these juicy nuggets of my Living Experience screaming into my psyche constantly, to be birthed into Flesh. Word Made Flesh. So Blessed. This Journey.
"Every time I tried to tell you, the words just came out wrong, so I'll have to say I love you in a song"
I'll have to Spell it out in Rouge, the Red from the blood thatl bled as birthed myself anew
"There's something that I just gotta say, I knew you'd understand…...”
Charleen Johnston 3-6-2025
"Words are like pillows: if put correctly they ease pain."
(James Hillman, Inter Views)🫀🙌🫀
Time Sculpts Space
Into Tender soft Penis
Warm Tired Worm
Tenderized
As a an Old Self
Returns to innocence
prepares to receive new blood
in new wombs
as newborn babes
with new soft worm,
Warm
germ in all beings
Til Shakti dances circles
‘Round Shivas slumber
Forcing Him to reMember
And
the rising fu(h)ror
Of Hard stone phallic pillar
of eager thrust
into a new dawn of being
Awakens
Full of Rapture
And forces into full
Stature
a Seeding Self
Aching to Penetrate
The Mysteries
Of
The Primal Dark
Her Who Holds the Stark Contrast
Of His Force
In the soft walls
Of Her Form
CLJ 3-10-25
Time Tenderizes all things
Or turns to stone
It seems
Petrified of Life as Saturn’s Scythe
Claims his harvest
Stalking behind unwinding Lives
Or
Soft moist meat and juice pulverized
From the Past Let Go Of
Ritually
A nurturing broth simmering
For Others to Eat
when You are gone
Traveling
Deeper
Within the Dream
The Seasons of life are seasonings
And spice
For the ripe fruit
And hot stewing
Brew
Of truth
That once clothed itself in Me~s and You~s
Seeds to roots
Til Leaving
Once
Again
To climb back through
A new womb
Tender
as a new born babe
Laying in wait
For Saturns sharp Blade
As hot red blood
Nurtures
Times intrepid Tomb.
CLJ 3-10-25
When we are old and wise…
too open our I’s…
We Yearn to live our life
Backwards
Slowly crawling thru River Lethe
Toward Innocence
Eventually
crawling right back into the Womb
To do It All
Again
Eternity is In Love
With the Productions of Time
The Fool hides Immortality
In his travel bag
Winks
Smiles
Looks over the abyss
And steps off the Edge
A Lifetime of pain
Perhaps
All for the taste
Of One Mortal Kiss
And This
Is what keeps the Wheel in Spin
To Truly Love
An
Other
We Must Forget Again and again
“If My Love is Blind
Then I Don’t want to See
Am I left to Burn
And Burn Eternally”
She’s a Mystery to Me~s
CLJ 3–9-2025
The Neutral Zone is the Creation Zone
I am a chosen Enemy Of The State Of
Mind
That tries to tug at my I
And keep me Blind
To NeutralEyez is to surf the Callosum
I call it stepping into the Center
of the Spindle
of the Core Processor
The zero point
The jester is the fool
who has come full circle
Creating worlds
Taut InTension
With Time & Space
Words are worLds
We fertileyez EL.ectromantically
Sealed
In Mag.Dalenes Vas Ben Clausum
Neither HemisPhere
Will win the War Of Fear
Within my Mirror
I Play in the Zone Of Zero
A fancyFool Looking
InWard
To
And
From
center
3-6-25
🌟🃏🌟
The clothes you're wearing, the room, the house, the city that you're in. Everything in it started out in the human imagination. Your lives, your personalities, your whole world. All invented. All made up. All the wars, the romances. The masterpieces and the machines. And there's nothing here but a funny little twist of amino acids, playing a marvelous game of pretend.
🗝🕸🃏Alan Moore, Promethea, Vol. 5🃏🕸🗝
👁️🌟Vagabond Rambler🌟👁️
I am the pupil in the center of the eye
I am the pupae in the center of the sky
I am the purpose of the moon and the mind
I am the purplepink lustre of the rotting rind.
I am moved not by your manipulation
I am smoothed not by your capitulation
I am removed from your observation
I am soothed by your undulation.
But what does this mean, what does this mean
Where does this lead me, the silver queen
the rampant wanderer of time and rhyme
the vagabond rambler through moistened minds?
And where does this take me, what forgotten land
what does this make me, and by whose hand
where will I lay my weary head my friend
when the path that I tread winds to the end?
🔥CLJ 2005🔥
#sovereignwarriorswakethedream #blissninja #seethescriptforwhatitis #marvelousgameofpretend #thehumanimagination #alanmoore #dreamyourselfawake
BlissNinja