The Divine Is Dirt
it’s an intricate balance, being a human being.  sometimes you ascend and sometimes you descend.  but keep climbing upward, keep howling at the moon, keep worshiping the dirt.  when you feel dark and lonely, remember that little glow inside you once knew, at the top of moon-witch mountain.  never forget it, never let it go, never let anyone take it from you. ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯

it’s an intricate balance, being a human being.  sometimes you ascend and sometimes you descend.  but keep climbing upward, keep howling at the moon, keep worshiping the dirt.  when you feel dark and lonely, remember that little glow inside you once knew, at the top of moon-witch mountain.  never forget it, never let it go, never let anyone take it from you.

☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯ ☯

(Source: )

“we are connected by a celestial thread spun by divine beings. it shoots across the milky way it is tangled in the constellations and mountaintops flows down through the rivers until it becomes tangled in us.”

“we are connected by a celestial thread

spun by divine beings.

it shoots across the milky way

it is tangled in the constellations and mountaintops

flows down through the rivers

until it becomes tangled in us.”

“every time a winged being ascends it pulls on this thread that ties us along lifting everyone a little closer to heaven”

“every time a winged being

ascends

it pulls on this thread that

ties us along

lifting everyone a little closer to heaven”

“we throw our hands at the heavens and cry we long for something sacred we hallow unearthly powers. but the power is here.  the power is now.”

“we throw our hands at the heavens and cry

we long for something sacred

we hallow unearthly powers.

but the power is here.  the power is now.”

“Gardens look silent, flowers seem mute.  But the earth speaks in small voices.  The voice of snow tastes white and haunting on the wind, and chills your bones.  The wet mud speaks in a green whisper, the earth laughs in flowers.  The mountains call you in a deep, purple moan.  The creatures of the woods talk to you in woodspeak, made of mushrooms and petals, twigs and string from the nest of birds, seed crumbles scattered on a trail, clouds and lilies and the twitching rabbit’s nose.”

“Gardens look silent, flowers seem mute.  But the earth speaks in small voices.  The voice of snow tastes white and haunting on the wind, and chills your bones.  The wet mud speaks in a green whisper, the earth laughs in flowers.  The mountains call you in a deep, purple moan.  The creatures of the woods talk to you in woodspeak, made of mushrooms and petals, twigs and string from the nest of birds, seed crumbles scattered on a trail, clouds and lilies and the twitching rabbit’s nose.”

“A spiral is an ear that goes both ways.”

“A spiral is an ear that goes both ways.”

“we all touch the same earth. our feet are rooted to the earth, our hands are rooted to the stars.”

“we all touch the same earth.

our feet are rooted to the earth,

our hands are rooted to the stars.”

Something happened.  I’m still not sure what.  I crawled out of my stinking cave, came out blinking and shrieking at the garish light of day.  But I was okay.  I suddenly realized I was alive and what that meant.  Odd changes began to take place.  I started to balance my poisons with my antidotes, my toxins with my elixirs.  I’d take tea with my wine, food with my cigarettes, baths with my self-harm, socialization with my hermitry, creation with my mindless absorption, sleep with my insomnia, vitamins with my junk food, books with my t.v., journeys in the woods with my cabin fever, meditation with my mental destruction.  I started singing to flowers, playing the ukulele, talking to people.  Instead of spewing hate and filth upon the universe, I started to put out good energy.  Instead of hating myself I started saying mantras.  I was no longer an angsty teenage freak, I was a spawn of the stars.  This did not happen overnight.  I was not perfect.  I messed up a lot and I was lonely.  I fell back into spiraling despair.  But I was climbing.  And now that I’ve seen the sights from the top of my inner mountains, staring down at the twilight tangled in the trees below, watching the critters talk to each other in woodspeak and the spirits floating in and out of rotting stumps, I know what the climbing is for, I know who I am, I know what I have to live for.  Nature was one of my many cures.

Something happened.  I’m still not sure what.  I crawled out of my stinking cave, came out blinking and shrieking at the garish light of day.  But I was okay.  I suddenly realized I was alive and what that meant.  Odd changes began to take place.  I started to balance my poisons with my antidotes, my toxins with my elixirs.  I’d take tea with my wine, food with my cigarettes, baths with my self-harm, socialization with my hermitry, creation with my mindless absorption, sleep with my insomnia, vitamins with my junk food, books with my t.v., journeys in the woods with my cabin fever, meditation with my mental destruction.  I started singing to flowers, playing the ukulele, talking to people.  Instead of spewing hate and filth upon the universe, I started to put out good energy.  Instead of hating myself I started saying mantras.  I was no longer an angsty teenage freak, I was a spawn of the stars.  This did not happen overnight.  I was not perfect.  I messed up a lot and I was lonely.  I fell back into spiraling despair.  But I was climbing.  And now that I’ve seen the sights from the top of my inner mountains, staring down at the twilight tangled in the trees below, watching the critters talk to each other in woodspeak and the spirits floating in and out of rotting stumps, I know what the climbing is for, I know who I am, I know what I have to live for.  Nature was one of my many cures.

“Eyes half-shut with dream glue, Still waking from a fantasy of flying narwhals and Mushrooms the size of houses”

“Eyes half-shut with dream glue,

Still waking from a fantasy of flying narwhals and

Mushrooms the size of houses”

“lay those sweet sorrows to rest, my dear. leave those skeletons in the closet, let the undead crawl back to their coffins. moon-witch mountain is calling, crystalline child.”

“lay those sweet sorrows to rest, my dear.

leave those skeletons in the closet, let the undead crawl back to their coffins.

moon-witch mountain is calling, crystalline child.”

“you’ve forgotten about the clothes on the floor and the soap scum and mold on the sink and the paint peeling on the bathroom door and the dirty, vomit-stained hallways that lead to doors and more rooms and streets and sidewalks and more houses and people and feelings and heartbreak and broken dreams and birds in cages and unsaved princesses and the moist feeling of pain between your legs when everything is being taken from you and parents with eye-less faces and pills gurgling in your stomach, just ocean, just here, just now”

“you’ve forgotten about the clothes on the floor and the soap scum and mold on the sink and the paint peeling on the bathroom door and the dirty, vomit-stained hallways that lead to doors and more rooms and streets and sidewalks and more houses and people and feelings and heartbreak and broken dreams and birds in cages and unsaved princesses and the moist feeling of pain between your legs when everything is being taken from you and parents with eye-less faces and pills gurgling in your stomach, just ocean, just here, just now”

i was an incomprehensible, emotionally agitated ocean of demon fish and rotting ghosts.  i was intoxicated and misunderstood, blaming the universe and cursing the sky.  i flung my toxic waste over everything.  my touch was acidic.  i hid under my covers for months on end, an angry, hibernating bear.  i came out only to feed on poisons, let the sick out of my stomach, piss on flowers, do damage to my body, fuck the hurt away, and pretend i was okay.  i hated me.  i hated you.  i hated everything and everyone on this planet and perhaps others.  i was filled with a hate my small body couldn’t contain, so i had to end it or end me.

i was an incomprehensible, emotionally agitated ocean of demon fish and rotting ghosts.  i was intoxicated and misunderstood, blaming the universe and cursing the sky.  i flung my toxic waste over everything.  my touch was acidic.  i hid under my covers for months on end, an angry, hibernating bear.  i came out only to feed on poisons, let the sick out of my stomach, piss on flowers, do damage to my body, fuck the hurt away, and pretend i was okay.  i hated me.  i hated you.  i hated everything and everyone on this planet and perhaps others.  i was filled with a hate my small body couldn’t contain, so i had to end it or end me.