I have found that:
  • → sincere prayer
  • → genuine intentions
  • → present-focus
  • → extended humor
  • → careful integrity
  • → constant work to discover and release all forms of bias in oneself
  • → dogged effort to pursue awareness, divine guidance and understanding
Leads a person to "interactive insight from the inside."

Consciously I want to evolve.
My ego resists strenuously.
I surreally "forget" so much!
So I blog for myself, mostly:
to re-read and remember.

People ask me where to begin with the complexity of the stuff on my blog. But my imaginal and related work spans 25 years as of 2016. So the real answer is "I don't know." I can't put all that in a sound bite. And one would have to understand, not just intellectually but experientially, a lot of it from start to middle to begin to understand where I am now. It is 'active imagination' work, resting on an extremely 'open' definition of archetype and energy, mapped at times to various occult patterns because they seem useful and otherwise just loosely personal; but that's not all. Short of how the blog speaks for itself that's about all I can say about it. It's a path I've built myself, for one. ~ Palyne

In the human spirit, as in the universe, nothing is higher or lower; everything has equal rights to a common center which manifests its hidden existence precisely through this harmonic relationship between every part and itself.
-- Goethe

Angels transcend every religion, every philosophy, every creed. In fact angels have no religion as we know it... their existence precedes every religious system that has ever existed on earth.
-- St. Thomas Aquinas

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In the beginning all was indivisible. And in becoming manifest, it became, seemingly, divisible. But the divisions must evolve to recognize themselves, and each other, and to then accept themselves, to truly know themselves by knowing each other. To begin, they are blended, confused; it is chaos, it is legion. They are all on the journey to indivisibility, to singularity, to the I AM. The point, of course, is not the destination, but the journey.

-- insight during the Princess of Disks meditation

Spiritual growth is like all other types: you absorb seemingly 'other' energy, and it becomes part of your own sense of identity. The growth is in awareness, and with that comes power which is always over Self.
Diversity is Legion;
Singularity is the I AM.
None of this is new although my approach to it is my own. -- Palyne

Inner Guide is Angelic. She is free of anything akin to doctrine. I call her an Angel because that is the only word I have for it, and because I know, all the way through me, that this is our word for her fundamentally divine nature. Aside from that, I don’t even know what she IS exactly, or what it means, or where it would fit into any model. She is life sized, soul wide, colors and gems and flowers and songs, everything beautiful that ever was, condensed into an identity I am completely in love with–except she feels like part of me too, so it’s like also being in love with yourself, and also with God, and also with the whole universe, both every tiny thing in your mundania, and ‘awareness’ as something so utterly, mind-bogglingly amazing — how could this exist? How could this not exist? How could I ever understand such a thing? — I am left only with joy, with awe.
-- on Inner Guide #4, aka 'Sedaena'. The first IG I had genuine conversation (and reading) with; the first real sign of my HGA.

He is so much inside and outside me, larger than me and yet the light of the tiniest particles of me, I don’t even have a word for whatever it is that he IS. I call him angelic and inner guide and the name he gave me because I have no idea what else to call this. It’s a Being and a Thing and an Event and a Place and a Relationship and… it’s like there is no label that is remotely big enough to encompass whatever it IS.
-- on Inner Guide #5, aka 'Mark.'

The boundary between the imaginational and imaginal is rather fuzzy and it is a developed skill and art to learn to stay there; to maintain your own autonomy while allowing the-others’ autonomy; to be shocked, astounded, grossed out, effused, and other surprise emotions from the interaction; all this without getting lost in the experience like a dream, yet also without pulling back to controlling the experience like a daydream. The former is being swept away by the river, and the latter is standing on the shore thinking about it; learning to walk the fine line of control and allowance to stay in that ‘imaginal realm’ actually takes practice. Crazy people think it’s all autonomous and happening ‘to’ them; people unable to allow this for themselves, may think it’s all imagination; and they’d both be right, because they are both lost; the goal is a whole world that bridges and encompasses both of those.

-- on "Interworlds Meditation"

Q: Where are you now?

Me: Well, back in my own reality.

Q: Wrong. You are in a reality version that distraction and denial have made for you.

Me: How do I get out?

Q: Wrong question. There is no space, there is no time. Where are you again?

Me: Oh. I’m wherever I "pay attention" to being.

Q: Right. You PAY attention. It is the currency of your soul. You rent your reality. Never forget that. The choice to move is yours.

Dealing with the unconscious has become a question of life for us.
The play of the imagination is incalculable.
~ Carl Jung

The imaginary can be innocuous, the imaginal never can.
~ Henry Corbin

A calling may be postponed, avoided, intermittently missed. It may also possess you completely. Whatever; eventually it will out. It makes its claim. The daimon does not go away.
~ James Hillman

There comes a time when the mind takes a higher plane of knowledge but can never prove how it got there.
-- Albert Einstein


This blog documents much of my work in the "inter-worlds" of a greater-self. It's not just esoteric: every thing corresponds — the mundane, the arcane, the divine. If it had to be summed up you might say it is "a universe of personalization." A strange place where monotheism and ultimate-pantheism are one and the same.

I am a natural mystic, if spontaneous experiences determine such a thing. I am not religious in any way; only guidance from the inside drives me. No identities or models unless they are introduced to me from the inside. (Sometimes I use them simply for interest, or because their models are convenient doorways -- but I accept none of their doctrines.) I briefly studied theology at one point, independently (I consider constant prayer a valid part of edu too), and where it led me was "anywhere-else." It's fine for others of course. I consider the heart of free will to be that everyone has their own road. Or as Heinlein once wrote, the right to go to hell in their own handbasket.

This tends to make me obsessed with the divine yet not religious at all, in any form, which is often confusing to onlookers. I am ever in love with and in closer pursuit of integration with The Christ (which I consider a solar-planetary deity, exceeding and preceding all possible religion, though cyclically present within our species) but I'm not remotely a modern Christian, and this also tends to be very confusing to onlookers. I'm a student of archetypes and pattern systems, yet not a jungian intellectual - armchair philosophy bores me - nor a power occultist - which has its own issues (and uniforms) to say the least.

After nearly two decades of certain experiences I felt alone with and thought were unique to me, it turns out I find some harmony in the gnostic writings. I didn't get it from there, and am not fond of that doctrine and the paradigms it came in with, so I ignore it. Which means despite talking about just a few things specific to it (by unknowing accident until a few years ago), I'm not part of that model either.

The road I walk is my own. It doesn't really have an easy label or anybody else on it, that I can see. This is between me and God, so it doesn't really need to work for anybody else. I used to wish I wasn't the only person with such experiences or practices, and started a blog in part in the hope I might find others with something similar. Maybe a need for community. I'm over that now, at least I think. I walk alone, but Light is with me. Can't ask for more than that.

-- Palyne

When we understand that perception is as much about source as target; that energy is a spectrum and best psi perception comes from the center, its balance and blend; that the manifest communication of our Selves is the literal 'reality' we experience; that everything in that reality is a profound 3D language element; that insight with the ‘center’ of spectrum is likely to be via the language-symbols of 'reality;' that these need to be interpreted at the level they are received; this is the path for intentional psi.
-- Insight on the Art of RV

Konewa Turi nearly kills me

Until then I was having a lovely day.

I don’t know why, but the day before I had been inspired to be kind in new ways. And I apologized to some people where it needed doing. It was less about the apology and more about recognizing that I had not been behaving as the person I want to be. And on the whole I was just feeling a bit more loving than usual I suppose. I had the previous weekend had a spot of a virus everyone around me got worse than I did, I think I held it off with mega-vitamins, but I’d recovered fine. Work was going well. And my edema was on the downcycle, thank goodness.

Thursday morning I had this clear-as-day vision of a woman that I instantly adored, and then realized: you’re an Aeon! She was lean and had fair skin and dark curly, almost afro curly, hair, and she smiled and said, “Yes! I’m Bo.” And I went “Oh! Bo! And you look nothing like I pictured you!” She grinned, “We never do.” I really liked her. Really really. I’m not sure I ever liked someone that well on meeting. In fact I liked her so well that I kind of wanted to tackle her and hug her until all her teddy bear stuffing squeezed out.

I don’t remember what we talked about as I didn’t write it down promptly. I think I thanked her for my best friend. I think she told me it was going to be all right. I might be misremembering either. But I felt good all day. Happy. I made a point to imagine the four ‘with’ me and the four, mark and queen in my room in their thoughtforms.

After work I had something important to re-do but decided to do it the next day because (very unusual for me) I really just want to sit around and “be.” I wasn’t really doing anything. I had this long luxurious need to stretch, specifically buttocks, and I did a variety of stretching, realizing as I did so that I pretty much never stretch, which since I sit on a bed all the time seems odd but I never noticed. Then the urge for the stretch was slightly higher on one side, then the other, and I did all kinds of arm contortions to get just the shape that felt right. It occurred to me my private parts were basically burning, but I figured that’s because I’d been sitting buried in too many blankets and it was already downright balmy in my room. The warmth moving through my muscles as I stretched was really lovely. I went rather altered state for a while I admit, just grooving in the moment.

And then all the sudden I was freezing to death — from the inside. My eyes popped open wide. I know exactly what THAT feeling is. I had that in March 1993 during a failed kundalini rising that had a block on the yin channel and caused serious damage to my upper chakras — and the next couple years of my life, at least — and the most miserable 24+ hours of my life — and suddenly the heat at my core, and the warmth moving up my spine, seemed all too obvious.

As did how screwed I was. I panicked immediately. I threw myself on the mercy of Mark, the Four, Monde, God, and then every Guide I could think of for good measure, begging them to dissove the blocks, to take it from me, begging Mark to make it him, begging everyone to get rid of the blockage so this experience could happen properly. Granted, I knew there was already some damage done, but every instant counts and any help is good. Begging. Pleading. Visualizations of handing it over. The sort of emotion that only the panick of having suffered this before could probably bring a person. And again I think I went altered state because I don’t remember much for awhile.

Then there was warmth, like there had been in the lower chakras, slowly moving up my chest, and gradually my neck, and head. I knew they’d had some blasts of fire previously but I hoped this meant that I’d gotten help, and gotten through the worst of the blockages, and it was ok now.

Throat (BUSM) was giving me these incredible visuals that also had a sort of feel to them, of the most beautiful, clear but colorful warm tropical beach waters, different colors, some teal and others. Forehead (ACKRCK) was giving me these really wild experiential visuals of galaxies that I was in the middle of and were spinning around me.

I don’t know what happened for awhile. But eventually I found myself with someone, looking at what seemed a starfield but I understood to be me, like my body. And it was filled with what you might call flotsam-jetsom. Just junk, stuff, between everything. Tons of it. I wanted to clean it out and I sent that intent and we held it as long as I could to work toward that. They thought we were done, but I thought I should have been stronger, so I insisted we do it again.

I don’t know what else happened, though things did. Finally, feeling quite content that things had gone well in the end, and that perhaps losing some blocks would help me in some way health-wise, I let myself drift happily to sleep.


I woke up 3 hours later unable to breathe.

I struggle to to get upright enough and then realize I could not get to my oxygen concentrator, or my nebulizer, without help. I haven’t needed either of them in quite some time. I texted my kid in the next room. I should have called. I frantically hyperventilated, sharp inhalations to try and compensate for lack of oxygen. I could feel that I was going to go into heart failure if I couldn’t get enough oxygen. I could specifically feel that lungs and heart were both in crisis and that this was a very physical result of the seemingly metaphysical experience that came prior.

And I’d like to say I did something smart like called EMT or even my parents but it didn’t take long before extended hyperventilation had its own effects on my brain. I did manage to text my housekeeper also. Soon as she woke up she called Ry and insisted she get up and check on me. Ry was tired and yelling at me over my not knowing the placement of everything in the bed drawers, but did finally help me get O2 on, and then a nebulizer with albuterol stuck in my mouth. And I did that until long past its use, and then did a couple more. Which is a lot for heart rate, but I was desperate for the lungs to be clear enough to function.

And then I think I passed out, except I didn’t sleep. I just existed in this limbo for the next 16 HOURS or so. I have no idea what went on or what I was doing. There is a thing called beta spindling. I had something like higher-than-highest-measured-gamma-spindling. LIke the chakra in me esp. the head was SO wound up, revving so high there isn’t even a word for it. It was horrible because my body couldn’t deal with it long term like that.

Oh, and did I mention I was supposed to be working? On urgent stuff under high scrutiny? And had not called in or canceled meetings? My boss’s assistant called me twice. I remember vaguely staring at the phone and feeling sure the two inches I could need to lean forward to get it might kill me, so I just continued to stare at it until it stopped. I have never done such a thing in my whole life.

So late that night, I came out of whatever fugue I was in, and was able to think finally. And to notice other things.

Every lymph node in my body hurt. Every one. Apparently there are thousands. Tens of, maybe hundreds of. Who knew? I didn’t even know it was possible to feel more than a few at a time let alone to feel ‘tragic pain’ in every single one. I had some wonder then, because my brain translated the pattern this would look like, if you were to see it as little lights. I have a few times been shown ‘all the chakras of the body.’ The obvious ones are only the main ones, like the rulers. Every joint is or has a chakra. Every organ, and the body considers all individual bones organs. I realized that these were the tiny little “gold on gold starfield” that I have seen. Then it occurred to me this made sense, because what it’s sayins is that everywhere energy “interacts” — like in joints — is an energy center.

But having multiple thousands of places in your body hurt, which you never felt before that moment, is overwhelming, the pain, My god. It was so many points of serious pain that my brain kind of hovered above it, not even able to wrap around it. I realized I was literally in shock from it.

I have been trying to begin this paragraph for about 4.5 hours. There is something seriously wrong with me. It’s days from the time I’m writing about. I still cannot motivate myself to move, or communicate. It’s like I’m just in shock. Although to be fair, I have eaten and slept far too little in four days and I think I am sleeping just a little each time I space out here. But also all this typing so far, it’s constantly typos, rhyming words, letters in wrong sequence, missing words, it’s like some circuits scrambled.

So I noticed that all mucus membranes chest up were trashed. Not just dry. More like, If you’d been lost in the desert and ten minutes before even the most dire medical intervention could no longer have saved you — that dry. No amount of water, which I was drinking every 20 minutes, probably more like every 5 in many cases, was helping in the slightest. It felt like extreme mortal crisis every instant. Like just another impending way I could die any second.

And my body and mind still had the sense of spinning so much, maybe highest gamma or above that, that I couldn’t relax at all, couldn’t sleep.

What seemed most concerning was my heart felt weak. As if, any body motion no matter how slight, increased oxygen demands, which instantly put the heart in some kind of danger. So I didn’t want to move. At all. Not even an inch.

But eventually I have to take a shower. Sit on the edge of the tub. I realize I am holding the shower nozzle against my lower throat or the back of my neck, and nothing else, and for all the time I am in there.


Dark of morning, again I cannot get enough oxygen to my heart. But this time I’m already wearing O2.It’s not remotely as bad as before, but still noticeable. I do short hard inhalations to compensate for some hours, seriously worried now. If sitting perfectly still and on oxygen still doesn’t feed my heart I’m in big trouble. But as the morning developed the need reduced. And then finally I didn’t think I needed it. And then finally I took it off, and I was ok. Still never did sleep.

I went to Mark many times. Please tell me there is some good outcome to this, I beg. Please tell me it’s all for the best. Much of the reason I want to be closer spiirutually is the hope of saving my health. If spiritual stuff further wrecks my health, that’s just the ultimate irony.


Meanwhile, my father had come by. They believe the medical field will make everything alright. They just don’t get that incurable means they don’t have a clue either. And I was overmedicated after giving birth so I can’t even use diuretics or my kidneys shut down. Dad does his very best to make a case for please getting some medical attention. He stops short of crying and I genuinely feel bad for him.

I’m likely to need some kind of paper for work. And I’m not mobile, I can’t go to the doctor. So I call the fire station 3 doors down and say, can you come take my blood pressure? It’s the only thing I can’t measure, and I’m a little worried about it. And they send a guy out. Who is the same guy who’s a general contractor and redid my bathroom some years ago it turns out. Adorable, some kind of fireman job requirement. He can’t get a good reading even with wrist cuff, due to edema. He’s worried though, that I woke up not being able to breathe and my heart feels week. He tells me the EMTs have machines they can bring in. He assures me that I have the right to refuse transport. Warns me by policy they come with sirens and lights. Oooh, neighborhood entertainment.

The EMTs measure what all they can. BP: fine. Heart rate: elevated beyond my normal but I told them I’d done two nebulizer albuterol treatments that morning so they considered that normal. Oxygen concentration: fine. Temp: very slightly elevated (I did not tell them about edemic wounds on my leg which are likely part of why). They concluded that I did not have pneumonia, maybe slight bronchitis, and if I wanted any further investigation, like into whether I’d had a heart attack or something, I’d have to come in. No, I say. They keep asking my doctor, which I don’t have. They can’t understand: how do I have a heated nebulizer? An oxygen concentrator? Albuterol and anything else? I said, “I live on the internet.” The look on all their faces was just priceless.

They say they are concerned and they love it if I would go with them now while I could help them a little, such as walking such as it is (can’t call it that), rather than them having to force it on me. I say, “You mean, rather than anybody trying to lift a woman with probably 370# of edema on top of body weight, right?” They chuckle as they look at the ground. Yeah, I bet they don’t look forward to that. I say, “If I feel any worse or in fact don’t feel better in a week or so, I will call you.” They seem relieved and they leave.

There. Now there is paperwork I can get a copy of for HR and my parents are hugely relieved.


Now it’s late Saturday afternoon. I’m still revving too high to sleep. Everyone is trying to get me to eat. It feels like that is in the same boat as the sleep. Like my body is just revving too high for that, and might I remind you I was in IMMENSE pain with THOUSANDS of pain points in every lymph node which clearly means, though I have no idea why, the body is full-damn-up with something already.

But I try to consider it. Everything Ry offers, my throat chakra reacts to with a degree of horror. My eyes are starting to roll when I get that 2-3 eggs fried over-easy such as in coconut oil would be ok. I tell Ry this, who is mad and yells about it because that would be a lot of trouble. She is the worst nursing help ever and only that I feel so guilty about asking her for anything keeps me from resenting it. She brings me something her boyfriend made the day before, it ‘contains’ scrambled egg. I did get a few bites of that down. I just can’t do more.

I realize that it’s 3 days of no sleep, no eat, and body needs some support. But clearly not in this mode. I only know one person who I consider genuinely good at “remote” healing, from a past experience. I find him on facebook and give him the history in a short paragraph and ask if he will help. He says he will a little later that evening.

I’m assuming he did. Because at some point, sitting here motionless as usual, I started getting pretty altered state, and a number of things began changing, but I was oblivious to detail at the time. But when I came out of the trance of sorts, I realized that the thousands upon thousands of acute pain that had literally just made me kind of white-faced and in shock all this time, was gone. Literally the pain was gone. And the revving in high had drastically been brought down to ground like my body was functioning wherever it should be in that regard. I was so grateful.

BUSM, my throat chakra, starts sort of talking to me. Mostly in english letters, so I’m reading it, not hearing it. I don’t remember most of it. There was a lot of stuff. Then in the middle of all that, she hands me TRUTH and I said ok, is that your — and then she hands me GLENN. Oh man. Let’s just start with the most controversial relationship I’ve had. I wracked my brain trying to find any other guy in the universe she could possibly be talking about, but alas, I really only know one person with that name. I refused to give her a response to that, aside from “that would probably be a horrible idea, I assure you” but she seemed to think it was required.

Just then, in the middle of conversation with her, my dad comes in my room, and hands me a mcdonalds spicy briskett. I look at him oddly since he knows I can’t eat gluten and will not eat junk food. He says, I thought maybe you could just eat the meat off or something. And he looked so sad. Like he so wanted to be helpful. So I thanked him, and as he walked out my bedroom doorway I said cheerfully “sure!” and I picked up a tiny piece of meat and took a bit. And for a moment I tasted it. It was good.

And then BUSM gave me ‘the nature of it’ and I am seriously surprised I did not just vomit in my lap, except that this experience while insanely visceral, is not in the stomach. I have never tasted anything so horrible. I tasted many things with her input that ranged from kinda-yucky to ewwwww and thrown them away. But I literally have no idea what you could possibly do to anything called food to make the chakra read on the nature of it that bad. Get it off butcher floor rejects from tortured animals? Wash through cancers with harsh chems? Gods I have no idea. And I mean, the surface taste was fine, I actually liked it. But the taste through her was SO horrible that I kept drinking water over and over again for like half an hour to try and get past the taste of it, even though it wasn’t ‘in’ my mouth having the regular taste in my mouth seemed to keep the awareness-taste of hers present too. Oh my freaking god.

So I had a talk with her about the reality of the food supply I live in, and how I DO want her to tell me about pointedly bad things, like that, but that she would have to learn to ignore things like pesticides, herbicides, and other weird chems that will likely be on even the purest food like fresh fruit and veggies.


A new symptom: I have a horrible headache. Horrible. I never get headaches. They are such an anomaly for me I’ve probably had 3, briefly, in 50 years, which were so obviously out of character I immediately figured out and solved the issue.

The mucus membrane dryness has reduced greatly though.


I go to Konewa Turi. I have a bone to pick with him-her-them-it.

“You have made it clear you believe you are the primary personality in this body, not me,” I say. “And that yes, your rising might damage my heart. But killing me is hardly a good solution. What have you done here?”

We are now overlooking a landscape that is both a map and a territory. 3D scaling. I realize it’s the chakra gem world – this is the ‘planet’ that is me. There are various pieces of writing in a sort of engineer’s hand in sharp pencil, and some larger red pen notations, and I can see that a bunch of planning has actually gone into this. I look at him but I can’t see him. “Tell me it’s going to do my health good, not harm, before long,” I plead. They put their hand on my shoulder, which I feel, and direct me out the door. As if… maybe, of course. Or maybe it’s none of my business, hell I don’t know. I think they just kicked me out of their office.

I take a shower. Sit on the edge of the tub. No matter what I plan to do after a moment I realize I am holding the shower nozzle against my lower throat or the back of my neck, and nothing else, and for all the time I am in there.


Night comes again. Lungs fill again but this time I do not feel heart integrity is threatened. So each of three nights it has gotten better.

I Feel vastly better but I still can’t sleep, but then I think I might, and I’m pretty sure I did for about four hours or so.

Now I woke up with every organ in my body hurting, and the clear understanding that this was the “Next stage” of the mass-lymph-nodes pain.

It’s always something. It’s Sunday and I need to do some urgent work and… I don’t. I need to write stuff down. I don’t. I literally sit and stare into space, when my eyes aren’t closed, doing nothing, as if doing nothing is a perfectly good occupation. This is what I spend Sunday doing. I only sleep a few hours Sunday night, but everything is good.

I went to Mark many times. Please tell me there is some good outcome to this, I beg. Please tell me it’s all for the best. I can’t hear him.

I woke up Monday feeling bizarre and horrible and overwhelmed by a smell. I felt no more pain in my organs, yay! But I recognize the smell. It’s ammonia. Once in a rare while I will get a little of this that just oozes from everywhere skin touches skin on me, which is back of knees, pannus all around, under breasts. Not sure why but the smell of ammonia is powerful and its pH is like almost 12 and it creates a horriflying rash. So I’m lying in bed, more lying than sitting which is unusuall for me, and I feel as if my entire body is soaking wet. And I pull all the blankets off me and see that I was right — it is. And that pretty much all my skin, body wide, has the equivalent of a nasty rash. Not just fold places. Everywhere, like chicken pox where the body just tries to stuff everything out every possible pore.

My house helper comes Monday. I am in a tiny room in the back of the house and the door had not even been opened since this. She said when they walked in they literally shrieked and stumbled out again — the smell of ammonia was so overwhelming. She spent the whole day boiling and setting pots of rosemary and other herbs all over the house to try and deal with the ammonia smell.

She asked what I wanted to eat. I asked BUSM if we shouldn’t have some protein. She said no, minimal protein right now. I mentioned that to C who said well yeah, obviously, your body is overwhelmed by some kind of protein it can’t handle, for it to have that ammonia effect. I recall now, that is one of the urea cycles. Then I suddenly realized where all of this came from:

During the experience. There was al that stuff ‘between’ that didn’t belong. And I did what I could to get rid of it. Twice no less. I think it was literally the edema, which is protein+water, not just water. A sudden massive dump overwhelmed the lymph system. Then moved to some handling by organs especially kidneys. It wasn’t enough. So got dumped out the skin en masse. Perhaps less the water, than ammonia as a gas given the extreme effects on the whole house. This is my theory anyway.

BUSM suggests things like fruit and avocados. I have C get some fresh blackberries, fresh blueberries, some wholly guacamole and fresh pico de gallo and some plain chips I’ll eat minimally, and a few bananas. I eat some of these things when I get them and that seems fine. I’m sure it’s not enough by calorie standards but right now I’m thankful for small favors.

My head is still aching to kill me.


Everything I have done in the meantime I have regretted, with exceptions. Everything I see replays forever in my head with variations especially if it was dark or violent like a preview on facebook I watched waiting to see if that guy came online. Everything I hear comes back the same way. It’s like I have to be super careful about what I allow inside me. I have been sticking to my favorite spiritual song playlists on echo. If I want to look at something online it had better be “beautiful nature” google search images.


I need to do urgent work still. Or get it to someone who can. That’s more effort maybe. I’m so trashed I’m not sure I can work. I have never felt like this before. Like maybe my whole nervous system was just sort of blown away. And by the way also my whole lymph system. And all my organs. And all my skin (the body-wide rash hurts horrifically if I move an inch), and I’ve still barely eaten or slept in four days, although I did eat a bit have more here to do so ongoing, and I did get quite a bit of sleep earlier in pieces while trying to write this post and failing.

It’s about 1am, my lungs are fuller again, but it is not a threat to my heart anymore. I use the nebulizer anyway as I’ve been so calm so long and want to get this crap out of me.

I am sure that from the outside this just looks like a bronchitis suddeny applied, affecting my heart because anything would at the demands of my size. No matter how originally cosmic an origin, it is plain and simply physical when it hits the body I guess.

If you had any idea the number of corrections I had to make to every sentence of this post you’d know there is something seriously scrambled with my brain right now.

I avoided telling all the paramedics about kundalini. Obviously.


2 comments to Konewa Turi nearly kills me

  • Eva

    I am sorry to hear about all the suffering, I hope you feel better soon. :-(

  • Palyne

    I had a significant heart attack, after the kundalini experience. It took nearly dying and and later a couple tiny more for me to understand that the above post was all about that. Adding this as a note a couple years later.

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