Gifts of Nix

(Mom and typical readership, you might want to skip this one. It might bother you.)

The following is an example of a peculiar state I sometimes experience. I don't know what to call it. It isn't as deep as trance or dream. It seems to be a state of consciousness in between. (Of course! I live in the between places!) There were some interesting images in this one and it wasn't as personal as usual (though it is still personal, as all mystic experiences are), so I decided to share it. I don't enter the state all at once. It's more like a smooth take-off in an airplane. As such, there is information at the beginning and end that came from an incomplete immersion in the altered state. I thought it was important to include, both because it makes more sense that way and because I want people who experience this (chronically or in the future) to see what the process is like for me, hopefully to feel more comfortable with their own experiences. I think the transition is fairly obvious but keep in mind that it is a transition, there is no place it starts or stops really. It begins with me well on my way there, taxying down to the runway, so to speak. There is a star (*) next to the line that indicates I'm pretty fully there, two (**) for the beginning and end of the peak immersion, and one (*) at the point I was completely out. During these experiences, I'm often talking to a particular person. He's sort of my anchor to mutual reality when I get like this. I used to go in deeper before I had someone to talk to, but it took me to a level of disconnection from mutual reality that I can't really afford to explore much these days, and I couldn't keep a record when I got like that. Point being, this is a transcript of our messenger conversation throughout the experience. I've redacted a lot of what he said, both because I don't feel I have the right to share more of his words than necessary and because, honestly, when I was fully immersed in the experience, I didn't notice he was saying anything, so it would only disrupt the translation of my experience to your consciousness. His remarks, when included, are given in parentheses and italics. (Such as this.) Other remarks in parentheses are my own annotations, though I offer few of these (maybe only one, in fact) for the same reason I don't offer many of his remarks. The only other changes I've made are to correct typos. It would be utterly incomprehensible otherwise because I hardly spelled a word in twenty correctly. Punctuation or lack thereof are original. ***A final note, the situation at the beginning is intentionally left vague; please do not attempt to draw conclusions about it or either party. Just intuitively lose yourself in the words and images.***

 

Darkness and depression can offer transcendent experiences, even healing, if you surrender yourself to the waves instead of fighting to stay afloat. If there is anything you take from this, let it be that. 

 

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We made an offering TOGETHER to YOUR goddess on MY altar. No matter what I'm technically free to do I'm not free in my heart. "I'll go into your land and your gods shall be my gods" I'm not free in my heart. And it's not enough. Nothings enough. And I hate myself.

I don't want anyone but you. I just want more of you. And I can't have that.

And it makes me want to rip out my fucking heart and eat it

And pour the blood on your head screaming this is yours

 Pain is fire. Fire is ash. Ash is life. I just want death

(Tries to explain the situation from his perspective.)

You don't understand at all

(No, I don't.)

That's kind of it.

(Expresses his reasons for that night's events.)

It's not just tonight. That was just the empty space that allowed my crazy to walk free

The crazy was already there

I think I'm crazier than you even. You see things other people can't see. I love things that aren't even real

Impossible stupid things.

It only exists in my head in my dark bright little brainmaginationarium

Willow wisps and fairy tales and other horror stories fit only for children who dont understand the horror

The fucking horror of hope

Hope for little birds to be friends with a fox who will only eat them

Even tho the fox wants nothing so much as birdy friends to help her fly

*But foxes live underground

In the dark secret places only foxes know and go

And foxes cant fly

They can only bury themselves alive

Pretty little birdsongs

All foxy can do is listen from the cold silence of her cave

And cache

And cache

And cache

And fucking pounce

Bye bye birdy

Foxes shouldn't hunt birds

Let alone try to love them

Foxes fit only for pouncing on dirty crawling things

(I'm not a bird.)

Yeah huh. Fly away birdy free in the clouds

Doing happy sky dances with the other freelings

Bye bye foxy. Bury yourself like a cache

Hope you dont rot

Ice

Maybe I should be ice

Come and eat me mr wight you've already had a taste

Im sweet snd sour flavored

Ice doesn't let things rot. They dont go back to ash. They stay frozen in timeless death. A sick yet sweet parody of life

Maybe

Maybe

Maybe im tasty to ice

Oh wouldn't it be nice

Beach boys. How inappropriate

**Iiiiiiiiim just an empty shell hanging on a bad love spell. Oh hello purple suit man have we met before?

Is that hell back there? cuz it looks like it has rides

I like the one with the swans

All seven sisters die in that one you know

Lucky swans

What? Its not 7 its 7 !

7 is like intuition. Mine requires repairs

My psyche wouldn't pass inspection

Did you know there are two 7s? I didn't until purple suit man told me

I think it was purple suit man

But it was hard to say in the fog and the bending over

I wonder who he is

Hes like a gatekeeper

Oh hello goat

Youre quite a gracious host

I quite like the swans

Were they black before?

I dont think they were

Trace the trailwayguy on down city streets cant ever catch him bc he knows youre asleep!

He wears red with yellow spots

But he also wears shadows

The executive shaman carries a burn bag. But its plastic. Its a shred bag. And he talks like the 50s

Executive shaman knows where to go

Right to the books and through them through them through them

I don't like executive shaman but he likes me

He says hey you do roots. I do skyscraper

And I say yeah brother you need roots

And he says its in the paper in the books. Theyre just screaming trees

Why does he shred? is it because of the screaming?

Youd think theyd scream anyway

Maybe hes setting the trees free

Maybe the roots are prisons

Maybe trees want to fly too

(What are you channeling?) (This message included because it knocked me into the next image.)

I saw something

Someone gave you a mandala

And youre standing on it

And thats why youre here

But its good.

Everyone else is spinning spinning spinning and theyre gonna go whiiiiiizzzzzzz slam but youll be in the middle still standing

You were a lady

Youre beautiful

And very nice feet!

Youre so beautiful

Come live with me and be my love beautiful lady

And I'll shear the sheep

And make you fine garments of their wool

And when we eat I'll make you soft moccasins for your beautuful feet

The mandala was a tree too

So many trees

Everything is trees

The trees are better than us you know

More productive

And knowing their prison they are more free

They use their prison for their energy

Smart sneaky trees

**Fog creeps in on cat paws and so does sleep

Dont know how much longer I can fight the dark lady and her starry cloak

Nix innana oblivion me

Spreading wings of dark energy

(What?)

I dont know thats just what they told me

Its gone

No more sight or sleep

Only weep weep weep

*What the hell did I say?

 (Umm a lot.) 

All I remeber is something about swans and trees. And I remember the part about you on the mandala. You were so beautiful. It was the inside you, manifest.

(I'm reading the old messages now.)

Omg this shit is hilarious

 

7 is like intuition mine requires repairs. Hahahaha

 

(Yeah it was kind of a word salad.)

 

A lot of it makes sense to me. I can see some of the images again when I read it. Just not as clearly.

I have no idea how there are two sevens. I think it has something to do with polarity

 

They were different colors

 

Someone was telling me about them

But all I was allowed to say was that there are two

 

Why did you say you didn't want to be the reason that was going on? Do you think it was bad?

 

(It seemed like it had that potential)

 

 

Oh. I feel fine. Much improved actually. I really want some macaroni salad.

 

My own still beating heart no longer sounds appetizing so that's probably good.

 

I remember what that felt like though. I finally understand human sacrifice I think

 

Like on a visceral level, rather than as an archaeologist.

 

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And then we started talking about things that aren't mine to disclose. I hope that was somewhat interesting to lose yourself in for a bit. If any of the images resonate with you, or if you're just curious, or if you have questions about altered states of consciousness, or want to talk about your own experiences, or even if you're just lonely, please feel free to share in the comments or contact me by email at lpbridge0902@gmail.com. Blessings and blessings!