life is a rave follow the fire flies and the fairy trails love is a fire of life that doesn't harm love is a bed thats warm we realized some interesting things the patriarchy is not a good shaman it would have to change a lot to heal the world and it couldn't be linear, or else it would just end up being followed everything would be sucked into the void we finally escaped the runic world of the esoteric buddhas into the open mouthed dharma singing world of truth, everything was alive the Goddess was strong, and real, it wasn't just about sex, it was any place where inspiration had run its river course and become a tree of dream sprouting in this world, producing life from the gray malaise of this so called reality is a sacred art, one we had to develop in modern times, to escape the traps of and deranged psychology, manipulation of the masses, and zombification of the young, the artists came together, and through their arts combined, which in their unity became arcane, saved the universe, the artists are the mind of the world and the mind of the world is the artist, raving is the surreal world of art and love of eternity, and celestial fractal wisdom, we all live in our own fractals, but we are all one fractal living, women gave birth, to create is womanly, to destroy is manly, but at their peak both reach the same unconditional shore of love, many chose to live there, and surf along that sea, and forget creation and destruction, but we don't, we stay and tend to the forest, and we partake of the herb, we do so many things, one thing becomes everything, trees so often transform, they go into life, they go into death, a spirit, a quest, is it possible to control it at all? maybe not, maybe we are as still and silent as the trees, and the stones, only dreaming, maybe we have been cut too, and made into houses and things, for other creatures, and thats why, we seem to keep falling into self destructive patterns, and we sense so much turmoil, and we relate this unto the trees, our ancestors, and the trees give us the dreams and wisdom, because we are them, still, we are nature, are we dying? if our dreams can't be real then the universe is dying, when we allow our dreams to give birth, then the universe is living, when dreams give birth, the plants also give birth, our dreams are connected to the plants, and to Mother Earth, when the plants grow when mother Earth gives birth so do our dreams. people come together around the plants and they know themselves as different plants and they meld with the experience of plants and so they live in the forest, they are the plants, we are the wild. The sea of love is not just the water but the air and the earth and the fire, and all life, it isn't distinguishable, we remember, that connection point, the deer, the plants, all life has always felt into and psychically communed at, there, were things are fair, and equal, and from there the healing comes, that is the true society, where the spirits can be known freely. that is who we must learn from, and be initiated by, not by this world of our self centered destructive illusion, we must learn the way of life and healing in a real place, in a present place, not in an artificially neurotically repeating incomplete story, tribal peoples usually do not attempt to recreate the past in historically unobtainable detail, they choose to lie in a stream of a spiritual tradition, that like Nature itself, is always pouring forth its abundance.
