^Click to enter Psilly Organisation timewarp 2002^
Well my friENDZzz, here we have my first ever attempt at web design!
It covers a period of my life that was incredibly intense, as all but a cursory glance will attest. I’d been shown that reality’s possibilities were far more extensive than I ever imagined – my world had come alive – it was rippling with a veritable motherload of fuzzy rainbow unknowns… I made many mistakes in this time (how else to learn?) and walked the streets with wild-eyes and matted hair, constantly muttering to myself (well, not just myself actually!) Every letter and number in every newspaper / advertisement / car-registration (every bird tweet & leaf fall & footstep) was a trembling glyph of tremendous significance… Every facial twitch of a speaker of politics, every unconscious masonic fumble of a newsreader’s hands, every black-eyed angel of death was a message in my own personal movie… The story of my life was a plot too fantastic for Science Fiction — and I was in the thick of it, FEELING IT :- Shamanic Fact. Spiritual Crisis. Schizophrenia. All these things at once. And more… . . .
Invisible Helicopters flying in my twin flame for crooked conversations across the bar of my local, her mandalic tattoos beating like eyes. A silver dancing Goddess leading a troop of dead ravers with faces painted like animals. An omnipotent impotent manning a GIANT EYEBALL beyond the veil of night, transcribing my thoughts, calling me towards the party at the edge of time for my VIRGIN SACRIFICE! A crazy Wizard at the foot of Mount Rainier urging me to eat mushrooms and speak to aliens, to use Magick to get to Christ, to recognise my part in upholding creation, to get so high that reality broke like water off my back then to dance with mice elves in the GOD ALMIGHTY SPLASH!!! Old Testaments to my Holiness flowing from the depths of meditation onto the slick tarmac beneath my dribbling meat robot. Rainbows like language in the Sky behind my eyes. A constant narration creating each day aknew. A never-ending conversation with the living universe. Disembodied Lovers. Drums on the roof & all around town. My eight-foot tall altered-ego traipsing through the underworld like Gandalf the Black to kiss the hairy feet of some evil arsehole stroking a skeletal cat, brokering a deal for more efficient sanitation services that might relieve OUR SOUL of it’s KLINGONS!—
(Man. Phucking Wyrd times all round, as you’re probably starting two real eyes.)
—This period reached a satisfying climax on the edge of a ledge five stories up. I’d been the crinkly plastic bags of some other-wordly Goddess on her way back from the town centre of the universe and just woken up. I was drunk. I was wearing an over-sized blue flannel dressing gown with a torn hood. I was hanging out with friends on the roof of my flat. I was compelled to dash around the edge of the low circular parapet FIVE STORIES UP. I wasn’t in control. There was no fear. There wasn’t even a thought… I tripped on a metal strut and fell forward but managed to grab a hold. I shivered back to safety and slipped into a dreamless void.
The next morning I was woken by my ringing phone, it was Mum, calling from her holiday in Spain – first thing she said was: “YOU’RE NEVER GOING UP ON THAT ROOF AGAIN!” – I agreed and tried to calm her down, too stunned to wonder how it was she could know. She told me that she’d had a dream last night: I’d been up on the roof in my Grandad’s old dressing gown (a.k.a psilly wizard’s robe) and had flung myself off; she’d watched me falling towards the ground, staring up at her, arms spread wide in a perverse imitation of Christ. She told me Dad wanted to send me to a mental hospital, and invited me to stay with her instead.
It took me a year to get over it even a little, my self-confidence shaken to the core. I had to shut down all the parts of myself that had made me feel so free & powerful. I had to act “normal”… but I held on to the wyrdness in my soul, talked to the unknown in the quiet fluorescent geometries of night, lay silent in the bright folds between sight while some other aspect conformed to consensus in the rigid world of other-people’s-business… and slowly, piece by peace, I rebuilt myself stronger, became truly happy in the Great Mystery, and remembered that I had a sense of humour…
I’d like to thank everyone I was involved with back then; not just the physical people in my life but the beautiful immaterial souls still tangled up with me in this Weird Wyrd Web.
Be Blessed.