Our Forum…

Fairies are a unique thought manifesting in living, through being. Their culture, in much like ours, through All, often like a window, they appear. For food, the fae have brought these tidbits of thought, weaving a story of their own, mostly in sacred space, where word rarely escapes. Through ritual and a revival of the old way, which is constant, they appear, as seperate manifestations of nature, like the clouds, communicating in mind. Often upon small trees, in intricate communities, hidden from the normal sight, and for good reason. Often though, love and sincere longing brings them into ones awareness, though it may be hard at first to communicate, effectively, as one goes through the process of becoming one of the tribe, if its felt that this is necessary, though the world of fae is not static as is the world of humans, residing upon toadstools, and in such impermanent residences, there are mostly of the spirit, ethereal, rarely, a group comes to share their secrets, as they have, the fairies of Olan Dita, in hopes of restoring the Gaian mind, upon earth, everything, everything is alive, so it could be said that this is an aspect of ones self. Of course this is the resulting dance created by human beings with their cultures in contact with the fairy way, there is a clash, and blending that takes place, in space, through God. Though the flowers, that we bring, and offer, are beautiful and true, it is from the deepest intention that they are brought, things set in motion before we can even begin to concieve, the roots of things, that govern our external and internal worlds. The Fae, playing such intregal part in these processes of the world, of course have much to consider in each action, just as we do, until finally a language is established and trust. Its true, we both have our rituals and processes and conceptions which we bring to the table, and also there is the matter of the beings of the sky, wandering blindly in these realms, where Wanti begins to pour forth from ones heart, and the knowledge of certain beings, who are in many cases completely disbeliefed, it is the defense of the society, at its core, which is fading away in the rise of fairy consciousness, and love, agape, and non violent and listening, communion with nature. The violence must go, the plants must be allowed to sing, it is the quiet awe of a deep breath, the slight split moment of holding back, which rises, the fae instead lead us to this way of being, which is more the point. There are elaborate systems of defense, and of seperate meant to keep these beings safe, set up by their friends, just like the pineal gland, is protected by the brain and the skull and the heart protected in the chest, largely because of ignorance, traversing these levels of awareness, and elaborating on a pureness which is true.
I ramble here, because for long I have been kept silent, by the status quo, by the energetic fields that have grown around the fae, who in most cases are all but completely squandered, surviving only upon faith, or in progressively subtler and subtler form, as the culture is not at all a place where they would flourish, and yet its with courage, and strength, that we must preserve this tradition, based in whimsy, as those who find themselves in contact with Humanity, and humanities, are often those young and foolish, or those purposely abound for mischief, or those merely protecting us from what we are not ready for, and indulging in a predefined imagine, tourism. This is one world, and the only way to go beyond it is through communication, empathy, and self determination, because really on a mature level the question becomes about who one really is. Those who are drawn to nature, by its shapes and its endless mystery, the patterns there that are ineffable, and sacred and inspired by the Goddess, they often wonder why, it is a spirit in the fractal imagery and the systems that hold all together, without effort, acknowledging non existence, because truly it is the plants, who speak to us, through so many ways, so many patient statements, over a series of nature scenes, the arrangement of the rocks, the leaves in the trees, again the hushed heaving of breath and the breathing of the entire living mystery that surrounds us. Words, and a staticness are the only enemies and yet, they are also great healers, to keep and preserve the total good, and move from the bad, there are so many ways of thinking, and philosophies abound, all of them surround awareness, like the flora of the world surround the soil, which surrounds the core, and in the end, what is there? Its that these words come from no where, and going about in life we have our games, and those who see the game for what it is, who are no better than the serious ones, life simple shapes itself again and again, sometimes as space, sometimes as the taoists wanderers of old had found in their journeys through boredom, as the yin and yang, the whole being, but yet all of it is changing constantly, and no ideal will stand for long, aside from a vague of idea of an ideal itself, in a general sense, getting better. Lying near the water, I looked and for once, found the words, the expression, inspiration which was stolen from me, through suspicion and an overly worded world, where there were no terms and no means for me to express, my love was there. I did not know how to say it before, but its that that I consider real, and this world to be the game, that is something that is beyond game, and she met me there, quietly and for an eternity, for long I didn't write but now I must, and overthrow the shackles of so many assumptions and fruitless searches, searching for understanding, I simply speak the language of the trees, and the world speaks to me, and we wander together, in silent knowing, the boon of wanti, the sprouting and cadence of poetry, i.e. what is a beautiful feeling arising of relaxation upon a strained back. There is much urge to cover oneself, and to express only vague sentiments, but to really get purely at these matters many words are neccesary, not in a row.

but words,

and space.

that which is always there, and has never left.

that is my love, but how can I explain this, it is the explanation that is the fucking, and it is the audience, who is imaginary, yet I go to them, because there is a feeling there, and for long this was understood but I know now, as I imagine,  what is neccesary for life, and pass beyond the corridors defined by the past, though lovingly, there is so much more beyond this and the revolution is not quiet nor is it loud, again lest it become defined by the assumptions of others, for those who bring about this kind of change must be vessels to some extent, but there needs to be originality there, so the Fae bring about love, sulos. Wanti is a place, and perhaps it is this world, I only see the rolling hills, yet for an eternity, I have been there. It is through the loneliness and knowing of myself that perhaps it was intentionally forgotten, through the jerk reaction of those around me that is was repressed, but like the medicine that tastes badly, sometimes it seems bad at first, but not all of the time.
Write your heart, this I must do, in another way, though I search for the right pastures, where there are those like me, I am faced with the realization that we may be the last of our kind, only now finding similarity in the long narratives, in words, which the kaballists analyze and put beyond, all true meaning and extract only an energy from, that is beyond me. There cannot be any forcing on any part, but we all must be able to express ourselves, unfettered. I think its simply the rushedness of life, often its assumed the way its been going is correct, but is it? I'm understanding now, you must use many methods at many different times, and I'm really happy to do that, I haven't yet found what I want to be, only what I do not want to be, maybe I will never find another in this world in this way, and I will not feign to explain for people who don't understand. I don't understand why they come about. I lost the way, I found this, when I started smoking salvia again, is it that the plant has changed, to become more palatable to our insane and disrespectful usage of its gifts. I myself even found myself, going on the internet, if only in some desperate and misunderstood attempt to help to heal this world, and perhaps it did happen, because I saw how natural it all was, and came to harmony, though appearing different, I came to a true realization of myself as I really am, I am 'insane', and for me this is a healthy state, in time, it could be supremely useful, but of course people are drowned in their preconception, my family is drowned in their own struggles and so me and flo are perhaps the only ones recieving of this knowledge, like islands, and knowing there are many islands out there, just completely without the words to preserve, and find others like them, perhaps there is not point, for there is eternity, but perhaps the words are the escape from hell, and the salvation of this word, so I say it, sulos, wytipodating, to me its merely an action its a part of me, like a yawn, this is how God used to be, to people it was just plainly there, and here it delves into psychological ground, wherein I find myself again, like a hobbit, in conversation with the natural world, which knows me truly. I do what I do, and there is only this way for me, what resides a bit further?