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

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


Structural Integration

One Who Cannot reorganize and reOrient ones own body and release the disfunctional Structural rigidity and misAligned Stored Emotional Tensions that create constriction and prevent Free Flow of Life and Experience, cannot ever ReOrient the larger Body Politik. Inherent Apoptosis , wanders thru the Seams to make wY for Dreams of Integrity…. No? Yes….. To Living…. Is Yes to knowing the Key is Within Your own (S)Cell(F)ular Matrix

as history attests, burning the external representation of the system does nothing except make the scared herd cling ever more tightly to some semblance of being protected and corralled. One must Dismantle the Internal Structure that Bars the Being from ever realizing he never was a Victim to begin with; living an Authentic Life precludes the basic Fact that no outside agency has authority over ones Being, and begins with the tiniest gestures , of which very few people ‘alive’ are willing to Do, because as confining aS it is, most would rather be able to point their finger outside themselves instead of take full responsibility for theirSelf 🌟🃏🌟

….and ‘burning the ruling establishment to the ground in violent revolution ‘ is exactly what ‘they’ want, because in the intermediary chaos and confusion, ‘they’ simply reInstill and reInStall a tighter Reign on the Mind and the Hearts of those who know not how to exist within the Fluidity of ‘No Structure Imposed From Without’…One who has not learned to Organize their own Coherent Existence from Within cannot hope to exist peacefully in a systemless social arrangement any more respectably than one who concedes to the Program in order to remain comfortable.

Don’t they know

My Old art year 2000
Don’t they know? 
They are all just electromagnetic pulses
All just embryos in the body
Of motherMatterMaterMatrix
Placental playscapes practicing for ultimate
Power in the Now
Or Never
Dont they know?
They all suck from the teat of the Same name
What’s the Formula for this false Game?
What’s the concoction that allows the blame
To be placed outside
Fingers pointed in chiding derision
Forgetting that the Self
Makes its own decisions
And needs no Other to order decrees
A sovereign Being earns its degrees
On the zodiacal wheel
No permission needed from any
Pretense of Real
Power
This is Ours
It’s now and Flowers
Unfold when the hour is too old
To cower any longer behind the soul
Of latency
The Elect of Life
Electricity
Spermatic emphatic God of pregnancy
Sparks divine creation
In Magnetic womb , magdalenes elation
To carry the sonic boom
Of natures embodied satiation
Sacred
Sacred …..
Scared with hatred and fake matrix
Manipulation
They all scream
All hide in foggy dreams denying
Their own hand in this plagiarism
The Cluster of Cells where
In-dwells the Hint
Of sacrificial embodiment
Asks only to hold the mirror
Do you know?
Do you know Who you are?
Are you a gob of flesh
Staring into the abyss of imprisonment
Angry at fragments of your own
Disillusionment?
Fears and tears and shame from years
Of traumatic wounds
And dismemberment?
Are you a pulsing electromagnetic spectacle
Of stardust impregnated into the divine mother
I-And-US
Unfolding embryonic supersonic lust
For Life
Wandering Waves of cosmic Dust
Dancing the dream of Being
As Body
Bleeding with the intense need
To See
The True Seed that grows within
This multidimensional PlayPen
Again and again.
What’s the Formula for the artificial
Algorithm
That tosses you to and fro
From -ism to -ism
Falling prey to the slayers
Of minds beauty
And truth
And dangling your sovereign self
From the tight noose
Of proof
That red fish blue fish
One fish two fish
Keeps the Me
And the
You
Twisted
Into dichotomy
Wishing for ancient sanctions
So patiently
Doctoring reality
To give permission
To step out of this glistening
Wet-dream
Steeped
In sterile
Seeds
Injected into bodies
That no longer
Bleed.
Free.
The Self.
And
See.
Differently.

CLJ 6-28-22

The Agony of the Thaw

It’s so cryptic
HYdrogen Oxygen
Lipstick stains
Lovers Pains
The Waters Anew
Spoken Soul in Silica
Frozen
Waiting for glaciers
In galactic rows
As woken snows
Tell the Story once again
Full Circle
AnArctic miracle
Of Man’s majestic
Game
Stone Record Keepers
Hold the forms
Shame and storms
In cells and deoxy-
Rib-oh…..of Atoms Eve
Twist into mystery
Again
It’s so cryptic
The Mother is made of
Soul…..Matter Maid
Of Soil
Patterns playing
In Paters Pole
As Papas role is
Two Die
Diced in wiFi
Spliced in techno skies.

CLJ 6-6-22

A kiss I don’t want to miss

We wait our whole lives for this

Morning light strikes my lips

It’s a kiss I don’t want to miss

It’s it’s own kind of bliss

When the sun rips my mind to bits

And fists let go

of the need to know

Why the seeds we sow

Grow into deeds that show

Just how little of our roots we know

As saltwater tears turn into mist

Our stories Rise from the black abyss

And sing our scars into soft lips

That open like flowers

Held in the spell of Life’s deep Power

As tongue touches wounds so deep

The blood and the salt trickle thru sleep

To dream of a Well that will topple the tower

As Green Man reclaims the game again

And turns Hours into Nows

That are forever Ours

Somehow.

Charleen Johnston 5-30-22

We Think In Between The Joints

“We think in between the joints”
Entire universes spread out like Time
As Space hides Selves lost in sockets
And held in rhyme, woven…wrenched
From the mind and hidden in pockets
Within the spine, the hips,
The Shouldered relationships
That bear the burden of Other
Ways, to know here, to feel, hear
And peel clear of stagnant flesh…
Just one. More.Deep. Breath.
Laying prone in a sea of flesh
Held together by pure force of Will
In a dance with past Feels and Reels
That loop and tangle and twist
As The feedback strangles the bliss
Of Letting Go into the abyss
Of the Space between
The floor
and Me
As Self is reCentered in between
The open Doors and open Seams
Of I and Thou
And dancing dreams.
I release…. The tight grip
That has ripped me apart
For 41 years
Held together by pure force of Will
In a shifting atmosphere
Of dizzy atoms here
Playing tricks of light
In a mind held so tight
The body rebels…
Swelling with the trapped rage
In masked pages of the Word
That Stages the painful dichotomy…
Seams so loose
It all spills out of me
Chaotically
I seem to lose autonomy
Christened by the insistence
Of my Fascial Lobotomy incised
By internal programs
That overRide
Who I Am
And climb thru the cavernous
Space
Between the Fleshy Creed
That plays at Being Me….
It Dawns so suddenly
The force of Feeling bleeds
As pounding Heart Seeds frequencies
Illuminating
The maze that traps me….
Dramatic release….
A lifetimes unEase freed
As the iron grip can no longer hold
I leak right out of the mould
And gather
In a puddle of matter
And Mater and Mother
And matrix
Of Self & Other
And Open to the Fugue
As the Swoon subsides….
And There
I Am
Peering In
From Outside the Lines
Where Dark matter
Claims the Mind
And Patterns
The Play
Of Somas Shame
As it falls into the rhythm
Of psyches Game.

Charleen Johnston
5-14-22

Inspired by Sophie’s Strands fb post below

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10228554482073707&set=a.1499832382446&type=3

A visceral reflection of how over muscled and controlled my Soma has been
as a lifetime of the threat of puddling right out of my skin
Has overcompensated
To keep the chaos out( or in?)
Hippos are meant to be soft
And buoyant
As they navigate the waters
Of the emotional realm
But mine has crystallized
And been trained
By the Martian masculine
To grip so tight
There is no room
For darkness
In the light
Of Being.
This I Know
And See
As I Do
Now
What is beginning
To come
Naturally.
Let Go
Into the Flow
Of the See of Me
Sew Seamingly slow
And free.