The dead dances

[Taken from today’s journal spew]

Wowza. Look at that. “19”. [after writing today’s date]

Yeah. It really happened. Really really.

Here we are… 2019.

Really just a number.

Really just a collection of months, weeks, days…

And yet it gives us, me meaning.

Something to look forward to.

Something to enjoy.

Or not.

The cynical side of me reminds me that “enjoying” is not a common activity for many.

The grey side of me reminds that “looking forward” to something is a luxury.

Who am I to know and have this luxury?

And then the colorful knowing within says, Exactly.

Exactly why my enjoying today is the MF best.

Something only I can touch,

only I can know,

only I can give and receive for myself.

It’s a gift of my choosing.

A gift of my freedom.

PC: SolJolie <3

I remember when I couldn’t see my tomorrow.

Or that there was even a tomorrow with my name on it.

And here. we. are.



Filled with nothing but Love, Faith, Hope, Good ass vibes.

Here we are. Today.

Surrounded by Beautiful, Truly Beautiful people, Genuine, Authentic, Honest, Forward Thinking, Inward Feeling Bona Fide Magnificent people.

And continuously and constantly attracting more of them.

Here we are. 2019.

Reveling in the glory and Fullness and Perfection of Today.

Every Fucking Day.

Each moment a joyous event.

So high with Love and Possibilities,

too high to even disdain the cheesiness of the word “joyous”.

Eating my words of vowing to never let my guard down,

to never trust anyone, anything, any god, especially,


Undoing the nails of my coffin hammered in on the long dark nights of desperation

resigning to quiet acceptance of the emptiness of life,

my portion,

my ration.

Smiling, squeezing fingers under the wood,

pulling back the amateurly (not a real word) fastened planks,

knowing this is one of those things,

those promises

meant to be broken,


released into nothing.

Smiling, knowing, deep down, I had never wanted these nails to actually work.

Remembering the half-hearted shaky pounding, secretly hoping my despair and depression and self-oppression would awaken the mercy of God, of gods, of anything that would give a shit,

that maybe the darkness was so dark, too dark, that the light had to give somewhere.

I laugh, knowing how faithful God, the universe had been to me, to himself, itself.

I laugh, planks burning a funeral pyre of misbeliefs, misunderstandings, misidentifications.

I laugh in pure joy, none of that cynical acidic bullshit.

Just pure joy,

basking in the truth, that God was waiting, all of creation was waiting, patiently, quietly, relentlessly waiting

for me to come home to me.

For me to know me.

For me to see me.

God/universe was not waiting for the moment of redemption, saving,

not waiting to arrive gloriously as a savior.

There was no saving to be done.

How could there be, when God manifest, Christ risen, is embedded in my very being?

There is only remembering.

Only allowing.

Only receiving into myself, myself.

Made in the image of God.

Molded by Creative Intelligence,

Infinite Wisdom,

Pure Loving Truth.

One with All That Is,

the Great I Am.

Choosing separateness only to breathe in Oneness.

The Divine.

The Perfection.

Here we are today. 2019.

Dancing my dance in glee and giddiness.

Dancing, dancing, dancing drunk in pure ecstasy of Truth Manifested, Love Integrated, Joy Fulfilled.

Dancing, dancing, dancing my gift to the world – Me.

Dancing by the light, the warmth of All That Is, of the journey that has led me here, so faithfully, wondrously.

Dancing my way down my path, now carrying that fierce heat, vibrant Light within,

close to me,

close to my heart,

allowing it to take over,

allowing Divinity to engulf, embrace, anoint me.

Here we are.


Just a number.

Yet not.

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