journal creature: Tulip Bulbs

He may never know I write about him in this journal. And that would be a good thing. So I can feel free to imagine, as I mentioned before, to create, to instigate, to conjure ideal Love by imagining it as if it were already here with this otherworldly visualization power I seem to have. Then I will bring it closer to material by writing it. In this journal. And burying each successive thought deeper in the archives – like tulip bulbs frozen/thawing, frozen/thawing just a forgotten dream underneath layers of early winter snow and a rock cold soil. But oh the secrets these tulips will be keeping. I plant Love now by typing and burying.

Powerful magick requires incubation.

Life is powerful magick.

Driving 80mph from Chicago to Happydale Michigan, I have just begun a month long medical leave from STOMP. Both wrists in splints keeps the steering wheel from aching me and certainly makes for tedious typing. Perhaps I will learn to be more direct with my stories. But that would put an end to daydreaming and I am so, so good at it. Otherworldly, in fact. It’s like I imagine it, and there it is gathered at my feet, wide eyes looking up, waiting for me to be really really ready.

Incubation.

I guess it is my job as a Life Loving Michigan Magickian, to be in constant preparation then, so my conjurings can stand to meet me sooner. So my fate can look me in the eye. I love this preparation.

Begin:

You are sunshine through my rental car’s window. You are my favorite passenger. Engaging me in passionate, intellectual, honest conversation where ideas erect skyscrapers and subjects flow hot lava. You are adorable in my mind, an idol, yes an idol. You are an idol to me. I feel my heart double in appreciation when you roll down your window. The wind is frigid so I crank on the heater - I prefer windows down in winter, as well. We listen to cd’s for many hours straight. I agree that you have exquisite musical taste and you agree that I am an exceptional driver. I will never tailgate. You will never ask to hear AC/DC. And we will raise our voices in soulful conviction with Frank Sinatra ”no, no they can’t take that away from me.”

No, they can’t. But open car windows can. And do.

He will likely never read this. So I write, incubate, and daydream in preparation.

0 Comments:

Links to this post:

	Tulip Bulbs November 27, 2003 He may never know I write about him in this journal. And that would be a good thing. So I can feel free to imagine, as I mentioned before, to create, to instigate, to conjure ideal Love by imagining it as if it were already here with this otherworldly visualization power I seem to have. Then I will bring it closer to material by writing it. In this journal. And burying each successive thought deeper in the archives – like tulip bulbs frozen/thawing, frozen/thawing just a forgotten dream underneath layers of early winter snow and a rock cold soil. But oh the secrets these tulips will be keeping. I plant Love now by typing and burying. Powerful magick requires incubation. Life is powerful magick. Driving 80mph from Chicago to Happydale Michigan, I have just begun a month long medical leave from STOMP. Both wrists in splints keeps the steering wheel from aching me and certainly makes for tedious typing. Perhaps I will learn to be more direct with my stories. But that would put an end to daydreaming and I am so, so good at it. Otherworldly, in fact. It’s like I imagine it, and there it is gathered at my feet, wide eyes looking up, waiting for me to be really really ready. Incubation. I guess it is my job as a Life Loving Michigan Magickian, to be in constant preparation then, so my conjurings can stand to meet me sooner. So my fate can look me in the eye. I love this preparation. Begin: You are sunshine through my rental car’s window. You are my favorite passenger. Engaging me in passionate, intellectual, honest conversation where ideas erect skyscrapers and subjects flow hot lava. You are adorable in my mind, an idol, yes an idol. You are an idol to me. I feel my heart double in appreciation when you roll down your window. The wind is frigid so I crank on the heater - I prefer windows down in winter, as well. We listen to cd’s for many hours straight. I agree that you have exquisite musical taste and you agree that I am an exceptional driver. I will never tailgate. You will never ask to hear AC/DC. And we will raise our voices in soulful conviction with Frank Sinatra ”no, no they can’t take that away from me.” No, they can’t. But open car windows can. And do. He will likely never read this. So I write, incubate, and daydream in preparation. 0 comments Links to this post 0 Comments: Post a Comment Links to this post: <$BlogBacklinkTitle$> <$BlogBacklinkSnippet$> posted by <$BlogBacklinkAuthor$> @ <$BlogBacklinkDateTime$> Create a Link