Unseen Magnitude

So… the other day it felt like the whole of physical reality opened up. No, that’s not the right way to describe it. It felt like a zipper had been unzipped and all the dna was floating around in there like some massive dmt trip.

I had a vision. I had a vision of a being. The being reminded me so much of Thich Nhat Hanh. There was no face, no form, we were in a formless place, darkness that isn’t described as darkness. It’s a weird indescribable place that place. Like the waters of Heaven if the waters of Heaven were made out of stuff that isn’t water but water is the closest thing we know of here that kinda relates, or is reminiscent of, kinda. The Being was moving past me, which would be equivalent maybe to 10 square miles of water (if everything was water) that was conscious and that sense of awareness was the only thing that caused any sense of boundary, moved past. Way off in the distance was a super duper large being, so large …and female, reminded me of the stories they tell about Quan Yin. Huge. And that one had a form, way off in the distance, and watched, in this formless place.

I had a star. It was his star. I gave him his star but he tried to give it back. He did give it back. He did not want it. I said, it is your star. He wanted to remain formless. I could not keep his star. I give them, I don’t keep them.

So I placed the star on the waters that aren’t waters and as I did so, beneath the waters he went, he was the water and moved under the light which now separated the waters… man, so hard to describe when that place of no form is so hard to describe. We think top, bottom, in, out and placing the star in the middle of this vastness created a layer… yea, layer, maybe that makes more sense. Underneath the layer where the star was placed, a whole realm was.

The realm reminded me of what a stadium looks like, bright glaring lights trained on the action but the action wasn’t a football field or a soccer field, it was a realm like earth. The lights make it be. Or it would be formless like the rest of the formless place it is a part of. The star, his star, it was out well beyond and unseen because of the glaring of these lights.

It showed me a lot. When his formless but recognizable sense slipped under the star into this realm it became clear that the star would shine light. He could walk within that light or in the shadows. He could take a body, a form or exist in the in-between places.

How do you describe beingness that requires no form but is still recognizable? And self-aware?

The majesty of those that are able to be formless form?


Two days till the other end of this here portal type doohickey comes full circle. Have you remembered to thank your gatekeepers, your bridgekeepers, your keepers of …

Many blessings ❤


Team Human

This is one of the better talks, felt like a share was in order. I’ve had versions of these arguments, conversations, questions, thoughts so many times in my mind… this sums things up quite nicely…

Many Blessings, Happy Monday

…and all that jazz ❤

The Story (upload 3)


Will was getting ever more comfortable with his strange new reality. Telepathically communicating cats and water that seemed alive, trees that gave directions and hugs with invisible hands. He breathed deeply. He felt so good it was hard to be scared, even though scared would have been an appropriate response to this level of absurd.

“Do you know why I summoned you?”

The question pierced the quiet air, making Will feel small. Small was too small a word,  he felt smaller than the smallest creepy crawly on the forest floor. The voice loomed larger than voices ought to be able to. It was as if the air itself, the entire environment had spoken to him.

Every leaf, every blade of grass, every drop of water speaking with a single voice. It altered and shimmeyed everything into waves of light that were once held coherently as objects in his mind. It moved everything with it’s bigness because everything was it’s bigness. As if each one of his individual thoughts and each separate interaction, each momentary or previously unnoticed relationship with every single blade of grass, every individual and collective droplet of water had now as one, decided to turn his way.

Where there once had been a transcendent nature scene, there was now a thousand eyes observing, reflecting, directing sound towards him, speaking with one voice that wasn’t really a voice but was all a voice should be. It was simultaneously letting him know how little of them, of anything, he had actually ever seen.

Will’s knees buckled and he went down. He tried to hold the ground for some sense of stability. Palms flat, on all fours, he panted. His face held inches from the earth until that too seemed to look at him and he lost all motor control and lay flat, motionless, supported by the earth beneath him. His body seeming content to lay there indefinitely.

Minutes or hours or days passed and finally he moved. He shifted onto his bottom, arms clutched around his legs. He gently rocked himself with eyes wide. As the water had done earlier, a breeze came through now and revived him. His mind grew alert and every cell of his body strummed tightly with anticipation.

Just as suddenly as the voice had come, and with it the feeling of a thousand eyes trained on him, the remnant of change he had felt in the air vanished. As if it hadn’t happened. His surroundings took on a more normal and rational quality and his body again, relaxed under his own command.

Right about the time he was questioning his own sanity, thinking maybe he had imagined it all, it came back. As if it would not allow even the entertainment of such thinking. This time he didn’t hear a voice, he just felt it’s presence. There would be no denial. The air was palpable with something similar to anticipation. The feeling that lingers when you find yourself waiting for someone to find the right words in the middle of an important conversation.

It no longer felt like he was alone on the island. His heart started beating aggressively again but before he could pass out or freak out, a cool breeze rushed in. He took a deep breath and a calm sense of peace washed over him. There was power, immense power but rather than being disturbing or frightening, it felt like safety. A safety he had never known before. A safety that let him know what the word life actually meant.

The power, the presence, seemed to be attempting to get his attention gently, to be noticed without also encouraging him to lose his shit again. The entirety of the realm seemed to be clearing its throat, raising its eyebrows and waiting patiently for him to pull himself together. Everything, including his own body, now felt alive with an awareness previously lost on him.

Ok, ok, he steadied himself. Ok, he thought again and placed his hands on the ground for support. “What’s this all about. You have my attention now.”

Out of the corner of his eye a section of trees lit up. Actually, the trees didn’t light up, the space between and beyond the trees lit up. That sense of peace remained, that sense that nothing here would ever or could ever harm him. So with that surety, he took a deep breath and stood up. He brushed the dirt from his knees, intending to move towards the light which he assumed to be a sign or signal of some kind.

He had only walked a short ways through the tall grass. He stopped walking forward, crouching abruptly and instinctually in the tall grass when a noise caught his attention. A flash of orange moved in his periphery. Though he had not seen any animals besides the cat, he supposed it wasn’t impossible that there were more. He stood and waited, straining his ears for any sound.

A young fox came into view. Dark eyes twinkling with curiosity. Nose twitching ever so slightly. “Do you speak inside people’s heads too?” Will said sarcastically, relaxing his stance again.

“Is that what you prefer?” a voice responded inside his mind while the fox gave an impassive expression, as close to aloof as a fox could get anyways.

“No, actually,” Will responded shaking his head and crossing his arms defensively. “It’s rather disturbing.” Immediately an image of the fox sitting down with a nail file to his paw, legs crossed and foot swinging, speaking human words out loud flashed through Will’s mind.

“I stand corrected,” Will said. “That would indeed be weirder. Too weird.” He sighed.

“All right then, I’m Jay. Who are you?”

Will looked quizzically and somewhat disbelievingly at the fox. “Ah, smarter than I thought,” the fox transmitted. “Yes, I do know who you are. Marco sent me. Wondered where you were heading off to.”

“Who’s Marco?”

“Not who…so much as what.”

“Ok, I’ll play, what’s Marco.”

“It would be easier to ask what Marco isn’t.”

“A riddle huh. Well, isn’t this fun,” Will opined half under his breath. The sense of peace slowly turning towards wariness.

“Don’t worry, Human, you’ll find out soon enough. That’s why you’re here after all.”

The fox ran off, looking every bit a fox. In the wake of it’s departure, Will looked at the spot in the trees he had been heading and decided he didn’t think he could handle any more adventuring today. He decided he ought to make himself a little more comfortable and set off to get a shelter built instead.



Jane reached out to grab Lucy’s elbow. She gently felt the swollen area above her wrist.

“Does it hurt?” she asked her companion.

“The adrenaline seems to have helped some. But now that you mentioned it, yea, there is a dull throb trying to start it’s own band in there.”

“We should wrap it. Here, sit down and I’ll take a look at what kind of med supplies we have.”

“Do you think we’re safe enough here?” Lucy asked.

“What’s safe anymore, anyways,” Jane responded with a weary but wise look.

The two women sat under a large oak and Jane got to work examining the contents of her pack. The med kit had all the emergency essentials one would need. Vials filled with strong antibiotics, lidocaine, morphine, glucose, a small suturing kit, bandages of every shape and size, two collapsible splints, even more.

She found what she was looking for and began to wrap Lucy’s wrist. She grabbed Velcro strapping from a separate kit, pulled out some cloth and made a sling, guiding the other woman’s arm into position.

“There are pain meds but I think we should save them. You ok with that?” She searched Lucy’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’m ok with that. It isn’t even that bad if I don’t think about it.” Lucy smiled ironically.

Lucy had always been a fast healer and could only recall being truly ill twice in her life. These were things she had learned not to tell people. These were things that scared people after the storms started. These were things people simply didn’t believe before the storms.

“Pick your poison. Walk or make shelter?” Jane asked while scanning the horizon.

Lucy heard a voice within say walk.

“Might as well use some of this daylight. My arm isn’t going to hurt less if I’m sitting still.”

“Well, it might, actually. Keeping it elevated is going to help it heal faster. But, I’d feel better if we walked a little further away from the city.”

“Walking further away from the city it is,” the young woman replied.

The weather wasn’t bad, a mild breeze at their backs made the walking easy. They were quiet as the landscape passed beneath them. Quiet and contemplative, getting used to the rhythm of facing this unhinged new reality with an utter stranger.

It seemed they both were testing the other. Could their bodies fall into a comfortable pace? Could their attitude, their wit, their courage be enough to support one another in the face of obstacles they had no way to prepare for?

And because Lucy was Lucy, she wondered what the Universe had up it’s sleeve pairing her up with Jane. What destiny lay in store for the two of them, what need did they fill for each other. What edge of the puzzle was completed by these two working in tandem?

About an hour before sunset, the women simultaneously spotted an overgrowth that could serve as a barebones shelter for a night. Realizing that they were both looking in the same direction, they moved that way without a word and silently prepared for the first night sleeping in the arms of only the wilderness.

They woke early to one of the most beautiful men either had ever seen pushing a log into a fire they were both even more thrilled to see.

“Holy shit, is that coffee,” Lucy said regrettably before she could stop herself, which Jane’s sharp elbow to the side reinforced.

“It is,” the beautiful man said as he stood and walked over a steaming cup. He handed the cup to Lucy. “You want one too or do you need to size me up a little longer?” he asked Jane.

“Well, since you just handed my friend the only weapon or thing of value we have, I’ll take a cup, thank you very much,” Jane tried to sound way more assured than she really was.

He smirked and nodded towards Lucy’s sling, “nice wrapping.”

The women gulped and simultaneously seemed to lose their ability to breathe.

“Don’t worry, ladies, I’m one of the good guys.”

“I bet that’s what you say to all …”Lucy trailed off, unable to finish with her notable sarcasm feeling near the verge of crying.

“No, really,” he said handing Jane a cup of Joe before heading back to tend the fire.

“Should we even have a fire here? Is it safe?” Jane asked.

He eyed her sharply. “There aren’t any Rogues nearby if that’s what you’re asking. They have no need to be out this way.” He glanced at the sky. “No advantage whatsoever. There is zero protection from the storms out here.” He looked from one woman to the other. “Kinda wondering what you two were thinking. In fact, I was so curious, I had to stop and make you some coffee so you could tell me all about it.”

Jane met the man’s eyes. Lucy did not.

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he said smiling.



The body is hard wired to survive. We have innate processes going on 24/7 to keep this sucka running. As a back-up we have mental and emotional bodies which makes us even more apt to survive. We’re so wired to survive we grew an extra portion of brain that can imagine future scenarios and counteract things that haven’t even happened yet, may not ever happen. Truly amazing and beautiful creatures these vessels are. We miss the intelligence of what we get to walk around and explore this version of paradise in.

Our body itself can be paradise. Ever been in love? I mean really. Deeply felt love that is also returned? Priceless. Especially the first time. People toil endlessly for one savorable, unquenchable memory, emotions that can be recalled through imagery in our mindscape. We have such a unique ability to relive moments, just thinking deeply enough can release chemicals and hormones that bring us back to a feeling, the essence of something exquisite. A first kiss, a first amusement park ride, snow crunching beneath your feet, a deer spotted in the woods, or a fox, or a gorilla in the jungle, the Grand Canyon, the ocean, recognition from a boss, a teacher, a coach, a parent, saving someone’s life, making someone’s day, the perfect nacho, ice cream or an ice cold beer on a sunny day with just a slight breeze bringing the air’s warmth like a caress to your skin. So many experiences that are all possible because of these beautiful little bundles of life that is our human form.

Timeless is the word. Experiences that exist outside of, beyond, above and in spite of time. We risk a lot for these experiences. I realized somewhere along the way that I could provide a type of timeless moment for people. In my previous life. My previous mindset. I could stop time. I could fill a room up with presence. I could look at them with love that was beyond this little vessel. I could make em cry just looking at them so. I could tell them things about themselves they knew I didn’t have any logical way of knowing. I could stop time. But never for very long. Just enough to let them know, there was more, more was possible, and they were seen, and in that seeing, loved.

I was so idealistic. So immensely sure…

I told my therapist I was having a hard time coming back. Doing that thing I used to do, being the me that enjoyed her purpose. We were talking about homelessness. My mom being without shelter and me not being able to help is as shitty as it sounds. No, it’s shittier.

Most people can’t comprehend the hell that is life outside while others are comfortably inside. It messes with your head. How little sense it makes when you’re outside and can see how much empty “inside” space there is that you can’t use even if it’s not being used and it might save your life because you have no way to make enough money to be approved… you don’t think that way when you’re inside because you don’t realize how bad outside actually is so you think it’s totally cool that people make a living off of other people potentially living or dying. You don’t know that people are out there resisting the urge to save their own life because of social norms, essentially. They’d have to be crazy or on drugs or so fucking traumatized and beaten down as to believe god damned social norms…. I’m digressing. Trading in peaceful mortality I called it once. That’s fitting. And a lot more to the point.

But she should have, she should have known, understood what hell it is, she should have known because I should have made it clear, and I really thought I did, don’t ever let that happen to you, I said, you don’t understand how awful it is. To see people’s inhumanity, is what I failed to add. God, how could she have not seen what it did to me, does she know me so little? Or did she think she’d tame that beast for me, prove there was no monster under the bed and I’d return to my old self. God. Why. I just…

You see a lot of kindness, don’t get me wrong, but the inhumane is there and it is glaring and pervasive, it is ugly and absurdly perverse in a way that I don’t know how to explain. And that’s what the people living outside can see that people living inside can’t and it makes the rhetoric and narratives about homelessness so … it makes the whole place seem entirely not real. That’s what it did to me. It broke the illusion and I just don’t know how to pretend anymore.

Usually, not always, but usually the reason you can’t earn enough money really is out of your hands. No one ever seems to get that piece of things. People die out there. Other people still think they just don’t have enough gumption to try harder. It’s a weird story people tell themselves about this economic situation. So, I’m having a hard time coming back. Inspire people? I can’t condone this system. That’s the trouble I’m having. The wheel I’m spinning. Fuck this wheel. I do want a new one. I’ve brought people who were actively and purposely self-destructing back from the suicide line. I believed in humanity. In goodness that much. Without doubt. They were killing themselves and I convinced them so hard they came back and decided to have kids!

And I sit here and I wonder … cause I can’t find the desire to do my life’s work, to inspire, revive, encourage, I can’t bring any more people back, bring them back to what? For what? And this, this is the mindset that has stopped my forward motion. The ethical dilemma I must put down in the same way others must put down their sword. And decide again to believe in goodness, despite. In spite of and beyond the suffering.

She is a compassionate person, my therapist, but like me before I was out there naive to certain things. I studied poverty in college. When I thought “those” people were just lost and must be found. That was my mindset. I was idealistic, naive. I thought the world could be fair and people were autonomous and just needed to be shown the way. The truth of it is so much more complicated to explain. There is no system we can create that we won’t outgrow. That we outgrow it at varying rates of speed is where the problems ensue. Humans are so much more complex than we may ever grasp.

Some things are not complex and must be grasped. Here’s a good example. A comment section on a video about how tech is gonna save us. People are going to save us. The desire for exquisite experiences we only get from each other, from relationships, from experiences is gonna save us. Not tech separate from the humans designing it. The cart didn’t form itself and the horse most assuredly doesn’t tie itself to the damn thing front or back. Don’t forget that. I don’t.

And because I don’t, I want to make sure they understand the need to stay aware, present, humble. How different perspectives on life become when you are dealing with basic needs, day to day survival.

Anyways, the comment here that if they are a true genius they can … just like those people living outside are somehow just too lazy to try to live… in a body that literally keeps itself alive and will continue to do so until it is no longer able to…without us even thinking about it…


Ah, if only it worked that way. If only you could just genius your way out of poverty. If only poverty was only about money and motivation. But no. And also, where is this free internet, free computers, free business licensing, business cards, marketing materials? You can use a public library computer for an hour a day I think. How do people think watching videos or reading text is equivalent to hands on mentoring and why do they think networking, social norms and customs are suddenly irrelevant because someone has access to one gig of data per month? If “genius” is so damn good, a sure ticket out of poverty with some amazing business idea, why would those who are already out of poverty help the competition? You think someone in poverty has the resources or public support to say hey, someone stole my idea? It is assumed that those without deserve to be without because it is assumed that if they were smart they would have… it is assumed for very obvious reasons once you wake the fuck up. I had to learn that one the hard way. The pill that is still caught in my throat.

Lots of geniuses in the world. But it takes one to know one.

Humans are born helpless. Pretty sure that was by design.

It isn’t a tech tsunami, don’t let em fool ya, the tech has always been there, just like math has always been there, just like your higher self has always been there. It is an enlightenment tsunami. And it is worth it. Your eyes become opened. You see. In the seeing you realize you are seen. Realizing you are seen, you know you are loved. Knowing you are loved, you know you are free to love. Knowing you are free to love you know you are free. You know yourself FREE

And then there is joy…….

And joy always was……




Trauma clearing – The Virus – & Why I left fbook

Comfort and security. A safe place to call home. A place where the people around me, genuinely love and appreciate me. It’s the one thing I’ve never really had in the entirety of my life. Happy, functional people who love me. The safety and security in childhood necessary for normal human development to occur.

That I didn’t get conditioned in the same old way has yielded many positives. Sovereign, independent, out-of-the-box thinking is so not a challenge, but I wouldn’t go recommending the abuse and neglect route to spiritual and psychological freedom.

Stop and think about what I just said. I’m not alone with that experience. If you have had neighbors, teachers, community members, friends, family that want the best for you, you might think everyone has. You may not realize how devastating an impact it is to a human being who has not or how acutely economic inequality plays a (premeditated) role in this. You may not realize what a privilege you’ve had to grow up without witnessing violence in the home, or hunger, or to lose your innocence before you even knew you had it to lose.

The reason people can survive absurd poverty is usually because of social connections, love makes it bearable. Sometimes love makes violence bearable. But what about when that love is missing, the level of caretaking, attention, nurturing necessary for growth just isn’t available?

Our culture is rife with trauma. The echo is deafening but most feign ignorance. I had an old fbook friend send a message. Even opening the thing to check the message caused tension. Being on that site was like being reminded all over again. You have been abused and neglected as a child. No one cares. Now get a job and quit asking for hand-outs. I never even asked for help, it’s just the voice I hear when I go on there, the accuser. A reflection of all the people who didn’t know the pain and shame and confusion I carried within when they judged me. I don’t like to hear the accuser, so I don’t go on there. That they have conducted experiments with people’s emotions in the past without forewarning or informed consent does play into that decision. Which sucks, because I really could use an outlet to ask people for help and get a little social support when I need a break from this isolation.


I had some very acute traumas occur as a child. On top of the acute traumas, I had ongoing issues with neglect, invalidation, emotional blackmail, etc. Typical complex PTSD stuff. On top of that, I live in a society that shames, ignores or outright punishes adult children of dysfunctional families who have not somehow successfully raised themselves and succeeded where even adequately nourished and educated people often fail. Some things change, some things stay the same.

Got triggered today. I’m sorry. I always feel bad for bothering people with my feeling bad. That’s why I prefer this outlet. I don’t think it is wise that anyone remain unaware of what so many of us face. Here, you can be made aware anonymously without the totality of fixing the problem falling on any one person’s shoulder. Victims of trauma are probably the majority now, instead of the minority, but we’ve been so scared to talk, we don’t realize it. That’s another reason for my sharing. It helps to know others are making it out of the psychological distress. One trigger at a time. One “don’t give up”. One “thank you”. One “I’ll pray for you”… at a time.

Got triggered listening to a talk about ethics and spiritual teachers. Got triggered because I don’t feel safe where I live. Got triggered because it feels like I’ve been talking about these things and asking for help for years and and and… I just want to yell. I just want to scream. Why are you letting them do this to us!!! Why won’t you help!

Who’s the you? That’s where I have to go, have to remember how few people understand trauma, aka spiritual and psychological warfare. And I’m going to call it that because that’s how it feels.

You know the negativity of the energy attacks at my apartment building got so bad one of my neighbors hung himself couple days before christmas? I wish I was making this shit up. I really do. And yea, I know at least one of the sources of it, complained about it, got my rent raised and told they won’t be doing anything about the dude who spits at my kid and slams the doors in the middle of every single night… because it isn’t excessive… and it’s like when I was a kid. And there was no escape from the drama and trauma and danger. Guess I wasn’t the only one feeling it.

One time when I was young, geez, maybe fifth or sixth grade, I can’t remember which, I decided to ride my bike to a friend’s house. Oh, I know, you’re thinking how average that sounds. But it wasn’t. A few months prior to this I had been riding my bike just a block over from my house when I guy in a car decided to indecently expose himself to me. People never think that’s as scary as it really is. When you’re a twelve-year old girl that’s already been through a stranger abduction where a grown man had one of them things waggin at you, who you got away from but another girl got murdered by, you find those waggin pieces of flesh life and death kind of scary.

So the dude that indecently stopped his car in the alley as I was about to cross to wag that thing at me found me again, the day I decided to ride my bike to my friend’s house. She lived way too far away for me to be riding my bike there. My mom was at work because my mom was always at work because that’s what poor single mom’s do, they work, all the time, you’d think you’d eat like kings and queens for how much they worked and how little of them you got to see but nope, no mom and barely enough food to boot, love? Yea, right, but that’s a story for another day.

So my mom was gone and it was summer and I thought I could make it. I had probably gone two miles when I saw him. He did that thing again. I kept riding. And then he came back, circling. You want to know how prey feels? Ugh. You don’t. Civilized? Yea, right. I turned the corner. There was a building there, an old folks home of some kind. He followed. I got for real scared. And then he was waiting in the parking lot. I dropped the bike and ran for the doors. They were locked. The image of my little twelve-year old sweet innocent self, pounding on that glass, begging to be let in. The fear in those movements. Let me in!!! He’s going to get me!!! I screamed. I pounded. I would have broken that glass to get away from him. An orderly finally came. And the psycho finally zoomed out of the parking lot. My mom didn’t even leave work to come get me. He did it one more time after that. I was at school that time.

How do I heal this?

We live in a society that has protected the perpetrators over and over and over again. So many people in authority are allowed to violate, to abuse their power, to hide their crimes. Do you know how that feels to people like me? People who have been face to face with predators and had to run for our lives? To have so called normal, healthy people be unable to tell the difference TO EVEN TELL THE DIFFERENCE between predator and prey?

I watched that video on ethics and spiritual teachers and right smack in the middle of it someone asks the question, a psychologist and it actually wasn’t a question it was a statement. The same old gaslighting refrain I’ve heard repeatedly that still falls on ears that might as well be deaf they are so incapable of discerning… what are those victims doing, creating unconsciously to bring that trauma onto themselves. We need to deal with both sides of the coin. It isn’t just the perpetrator …



Pray for me, would ya? And I’ll pray for you


The Story Continues…


Will woke and found himself overlooking a paradise beyond his imagination for the second day. Despite the relative assurance that he was indeed living and breathing in real time, the thought still nagged him that he must be dreaming.

The faintest stirring of hunger was just beginning to reach the outskirts of his awareness. It was at that time he also came face to face with a feline creature, close in size to a house cat but a breed he had never seen.

“You’re hungry.”

Will heard the sound of a voice but saw no outward sign that it was coming from the feline. He stared wide eyed and slack jawed. Oh no, cowboy, no hallucinating, hallucinating very bad. He nudged himself silently.

The feline jumped from the boulder it was perched on and began weaving towards Will, in that way only cats can weave. Will panicked and his feet responded. For every foot the cat moved closer, Will took two to three steps back.

Will heard a tinkle of amused laughter bounce through his mind. The cat stopped, sat on his haunches and looked off into the distance.

“I suppose if I tell you there is nothing to be afraid of, you won’t believe me?” The cat met his eyes and Will could no longer pretend the voice was not coming from it. This, despite the lack of physical movements from areas that sound is normally produced from and… the fact it was a cat.

He must have passed out again because he woke up lying on the ground, feeling a bit groggy. He quickly roused himself and scanned the area, even calling out for the mysterious feline. Nothing. He was alone again.

He went to the stream and cupped his hands. He used the pooled water to clean his face and neck, reviving himself. Again, the intense feeling of wonder at the water’s ability to provide calm but alert and vibrant energy. He took a deep breath and noticed a basket a few feet from him, near the boulder the cat had been perched on.

Responding to the grumbling in his tummy, he headed over to investigate. Peering inside, he found persimmons, berries, a mixture of greens and 2 forms that vaguely resembled large root vegetables but smelled more like bread.

There was a brightly colored shell, sharp on one end, lying at the bottom of the basket. He took it out and after examining it, used it to cut the bread smelling food. The texture was strange, almost like a cross between a thick mushroom and an undercooked baked potato. He took a timid bite and was pleasantly surprised. The smell was accurate. Though it did not have the melt in your mouth quality of freshly baked bread, it did taste remarkably similar. He piled some of the greens on and had himself a strange but very satisfying sandwich. The selection of berries rounded off the meal and much like the water had reinvigorated him, the food seemed to hit every cell and strengthen him from within.

He called out “thank you!” to no one in particular. Shaking his head a little at the wonderment of his situation. “What now?” he mumbled to himself.

He scanned his surroundings and decided the best plan to investigate the island more thoroughly. He slipped the shell into a pocket and made a note of how many trails led away from the water, into the forest surrounding what had become his favorite spot.

There were 7 trails in all. Four trails led from the left side of the water and three on the other. He decided to start with the farthest of the four on his side of the waterway. His plan was to be methodical in his quest for information. He would mark the trail every fifty feet and only go about 200 feet past the point where he could no longer hear the water. He was hoping it didn’t turn out to be the only fresh source.

To his relief, it wasn’t. Near the end of his trek up the trail, a trickle of water started winding beside him. The source seemed to be further up and to his right. Not wanting to veer too far off the trail he only followed the water a short way. He placed three stones on top of each other at the base of a large tree about fifteen feet off the trail and snapped a few mental pictures of the surrounding foliage, colors, sizes and smells.

As he turned to head back, he heard the call of a large bird, a deep throaty echo. There must be a canyon, he thought to himself and wondered if he should follow the stream a little further. A quick examination of the density that lay beyond the boundaries of his newfound waterway, he decided against it. Without anything to cut through the brush it wouldn’t be an easy exploration and after his hour and a half hike, he didn’t think it prudent to push his luck.

He followed his markers back to the starting point and took note of the feeling of home that was already imprinting on his soul when the waterfall came into view. This time he didn’t resist the urge to strip off his clothes and take a luxurious swim in the water. A clarity he had only experienced a handful of times in deep meditation ran through his being and he floated on his back staring up into the canopy of the paradise that surrounded him.

A delirious laughter bubbled up within him that he couldn’t contain and the surrounding area echoed with his laughter. The trees, the ground, the leaves of the tropical flowers all seemed to answer back with their own ripples of subtle laughter. This must be what the word sublime means, he thought, now I know, and fell into another spontaneous eruption of laughter as he emerged from the water.



Jane was undoubtedly Lucy’s closest companion. Just a few short weeks ago, they were strangers. Their meeting “accidental” if one did not believe in fate or destiny. With fate and destiny your guide, however, it made total sense. Lucy had always been a fate and destiny kind of girl.

Jane hadn’t been. Still wasn’t, truth be told. Jane came from a tough stock of women who knew how to survive. This was not a woman to trifle with. Her delicate features and immense heart hid her tenacity from the purview of average folk but the fact that she was among these four threw any doubt of her strength out the window.

Lucy had arrived with a sprained wrist on what turned out to be Jane’s last day on the job. The security at the hospital had finally been breached, and the onslaught of Rogues overtook the remaining guards with little effort.

Jane had been refilling supplies when the alarm sounded. The two women slammed into each other in the hallway. Lucy scrambled to her feet and ran to the stairwell only to find the door handle locked. “How do we get out of here!” she yelled towards Jane.

Jane ignored her and kept running. The protocol the staff had been given in the event of a breach was not a pleasant one. Don’t stop to help. Don’t answer any questions. Remove any identification and get out at all costs. Rogues were known to take medical personnel hostage, their skills a priceless asset and highly valued bargaining chip.

Lucy was a strong runner, faster than Jane. She was able to keep up with the nurse who seemed to know where she was going. They dashed into an unmarked room and Lucy watched as Jane moved a table, revealing a hidden trap door. “Hurry up if you’re coming and close this damn thing behind you,” she hissed at Lucy and disappeared into the floor.

From the bowels of the basement, they entered a cleverly disguised hidden tunnel. Running full speed with several other hospital personnel they made their way through the dim hollows. After thirty minutes a stairway came into view. They climbed to their freedom a mile and half away from the last remnants of life as they once knew it. There would be no going back now.

One of the other escapees proceeded to a nearby boulder and began counting paces. After 15, she kicked the leaves. The absence of brush and assorted debris revealed a handle. The rest of the group assembled and assisted her in lifting the thing up. Hidden within its chamber, were the only material comforts the lot would have to survive with, until they acquired more or found their way to a compound.

They had all heard of the mysterious compounds but none had ever seen one firsthand. The whereabouts and details were so guarded most had trained themselves not to even think of them. Just in case.

Many Rogues could remote view and this, in the beginning, had caused more anguish than the survivors could readily acknowledge. Like a secret they all wished not to know.

When the reports first came out, distributed through various channels and means, no one really thought it possible. Until people started ending up missing. Until secret locations, passwords, and codes were found despite every effort.

It was finally discovered that few things worked well to counter the interference. Incessant mind numbing music, jingles, or mantras repeated over and over was used until they realized there was a definite distance which reduced the effects. It was also discovered that certain signal scrambling devices allowed some amount of relative safety from the invasive mind-reading, though they were obtrusive and uncomfortable for the users as well.

These were the discoveries that allowed for the escape plans to be made. The most important facilities, the staples of societal foundations, all employed the use of such devices in order to remain a bastion for hope and hold out, for as long as they could.

The hospital Jane worked at was among the leaders in that regard. Was. They could only wonder now, as they grabbed the survival gear and closed the hatch, resettling the debris and hiding evidence of its location once again.

Two of the group moved away quickly, heading in the direction of the forest. They didn’t look back, they didn’t say good-bye and everyone else understood.

Jane and Lucy looked at each other. The dawning of what they were up against suddenly hitting them with ferocity. Jane grabbed a medical kit and set to work wrapping Lucy’s wrist. That moment, the care and normalcy of the situation, hearing the in and out of each other’s breath, gave them both a pause to collect themselves, to size each other up.

Another group, a trio, had set off, this time stopping to embrace the women. Then an older gentleman threw on a backpack and addressed those that remained. “Chances of survival are greater if we separate. Survival is our priority. We all know that.” The group nodded in reply. “May the strength of what humanity truly is, remain within you always. Never forget,” he added solemnly, “Never,” the group answered automatically. The refrain that had kept what remained of humanity sane these last few years.

About this time, Lucy’s internal guide kicked in, something that had always been there but which she had learned young not to speak of. She turned to Jane. “Let’s head this way.”

Without a word, Jane grabbed up her supplies and the two moved briskly away from what was and into the unknown.

I’m Not Stopping til I’m Done

Play on playas! Happy New New. It’s always new new, every moment, every breath. We don’t think of things that way and yet, it is true. When we think of new, we like to think of new to our little bank of experience. The thrill of the not yet lived. The emotion yet discovered. But it’s Wednesday and everyone went back to work or school and life still feels like we’ve all done this before or for way too long… again.

Oh time, the trickster. Partial solar eclipse coming up. You know what that means, right? Yep, the loops got turned on, that tape playing just under your conscious awareness. Little bit o’ fear here, little bit o’ distraction there. Climate change, bad humans, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I’m not saying humans don’t need some changing and in particular regarding the activities that affect the ecosystems on our planet, I’m just saying the message and how it is being sent is orchestrated against, not for your benefit.

If you get quiet enough to tune in to the part of you that is connected to the plant kingdom, the mineral kingdom, the animal kingdom you might recognize where the problem lies. What your role in the ecosystem is, truly, and how well you have been fulfilling it (or not).

Let me tell you what I know about prana. Do you know about prana, chi, that current on which life (or a life-giving substance that we can’t really define with our science, so we pretend isn’t real), flows? It helps things grow. It makes life on planet earth lubricated, abundant, thriving.

Here is what your dear Goddess would love for you to understand, would love for you to take to heart and make some New Year’s plans to accommodate. YOU are a conduit for that life-giving substance. You are not the only conduit, but a very beautiful and interactive one. One capable of receiving, enjoying, relishing, reveling in that flow as it passes from the Source of Creation to the Source of Creation.

One thing that can hang up the ability to enjoy your role, your experience of this grand miasma, are energy blockages. Energy flows not by being subjected to rules of propriety, only good vibes allowed, but honest and authentic attending.

The Light of your consciousness moves that energy, that prana, that chi from the Source of Creation to the Source of Creation. Bless your water. Stand firmly on the ground of ecological stability. Allow love to be your purpose. Watch love grow stuff. Love for your neighbors grows healthy children. Love for your neighbors grows community gardens. Love for your neighbors grows inspiration, ideas, innovation you forgot you were worthy of.

You are not doomed. You’re just in your own way. Trauma, fear, isolation, aching with desire to be seen, held, loved by each other’s Godly gaze, by each other’s Light of Conscious awareness.

It’s hard to understand but, the first Source sends energy into our system, you act as receiver and conduit, add words of love, encouragement, direction and happy, beautiful, loving creations emerge as a result. Somewhere along the way, that energy began getting diverted. Think about how often you are able to use the energy within you towards things that benefit people and planet. The things that are getting in your way are the things that need to change.

That is not to say run out and quit your job or leave you wife or run off into the woods. A whole bunch of us tried that route, it didn’t work. You know what does work, is working? Reducing your inner turmoil. Making healthy decisions about what you eat, why you spend money, how and why you make money, who you spend time with, what you teach your children. Meditation, healthy diets, simple, scaled-down lifestyles, collaboration, reduction in judgment and accusations, planting trees, sharing out of your surplus harvest. These are changing the paradigm so much more swiftly than you are being told.

Do not accept the karmic debt of someone else’s greed. It is not yours. Invest in each other. The rest will follow.


Empaths and Avatars

Empaths and Avatars

Avatars are interesting, aren’t they? Skins they call ‘em in Fortnite. In other scenarios, other people might even call them egos, personas, characters. They might call em Jesus or Krishna or Mary. It all depends on the language being used to define and the language is going to be based on the goal, where you’re pointing to, which is based largely on where you’re pointing from.

I always find it interesting how many spiritual constructs show up in the computing world and likewise, how much easier it is to explain heretofore extremely difficult spiritual or “supernatural” concepts now that we can use computing language as metaphor. That is speed for ya. If you have to wait a thousand years to hear the punchline of a joke…uh, well, moving on.

An avatar is a representation, the difference being how much of the original force or identity is needed to operate the vehicle and how much of the originating force or identity is apparent. For example, in the computing world, I can use a photo of myself as an avatar, the resemblance or representation, isn’t far off. Maybe I’ll choose an image of a daisy. Maybe I’ll choose a tiger. In some small way I resonate with these images. I’m comfortable allowing them to serve as doorways to the being that is me using them on this interface. I could just as easily use a random image or a truck or a skull but since I don’t resonate with these things, chances are I won’t notice if your attention is drawn to them.

Let me explain that last part. Consciousness is everywhere, everything if you want to get technical, but when you catch someone observing you, it is as if a current of attention, of something intangible but real, present and clear, comes your way. And that attention towards you, also sharpens your attention. If you are using something in your stead, one would gather that the same effect could be achieved.

How easy or difficult that is to sense … well, that’s the game now isn’t it? Some of us are very good at it because having expanded awareness and neurodivergent thinking kept us safe. Others don’t even know what I’m talking about. The gifts of the empath, senses that are so attuned as to make us almost a different creature. Reminds me of the idea of mythical creatures like leprechauns which were impossible to catch but if you did, they had to tell you where the gold was. It feels that way sometimes. Part of me wanting to hide in the woods to stay safe and part of me wanting to say, hey I think there’s something weird about me and the only reference I have here are myths, legends and comic books.

But maybe we are not different creatures, maybe most people are just too desensitized, or overly focused on the big five sensory inputs and emotions that are easily subject to manipulation. It is safe to say most people have assumed the awareness of the avatar, the skin, rather than an awareness of the force and intelligence animating it.

A week ago, maybe longer, (and this after a good long month of some truly obnoxious conditions at the buildings where I lay my head), something interesting happened. It makes these weird kind of empathic, supernatural, spiritual, technological (or whatever you feel comfortable calling it) events that used to confuse and startle me to a more natural place, a more, so this is how life can work place.

I like to solve problems in my noggin, see if I can make peace with some of the things I’ve been programmed to believe about life, see if I can ease the suffering of humanity, or other beings that suffer. Sometimes the solutions that are reached are pretty helpful in a larger scheme. Applying logic, formula, to spiritual problems, because such and such exists, such and such exists, things like that, seeing how things go together, adjusting frequencies, keeping the peace in whatever way I am able, writing some sort of guideline enlightenment code, tying up those frayed ends. The issue of how to make sure an intelligent machine or an unintelligent not machine doesn’t interfere with natural ascension/evolution or spiritual processes (to put it bluntly).

Anyhoo, I was doing one of those things and we came upon a really handy solution and a small little voice in my head tells me I’m going to get a present, they’re going to find a way to get me a present. You want to know what it was? The best honey I’ve ever had.


Found it the next day on the shelf at the only store I shop at which is an outlet store and we eat whatever they happen to have gotten a good deal on recently. Why do I consider something I had to buy to be a present? It was meaningful, and therefore provided comfort and validation, the two greatest gifts a person like me can get (besides a safe and stable place to call home). It let me know my work is not in vain even when it doesn’t make sense and I sometimes feel like I’m getting tortured for it. Hey! Wait a second!

Sigh. I’m working on that too.

Have you ever watched one of those shows where chefs compete and they have to smell or taste something while blindfolded and figure out what it is? Depending on how finely tuned their palate is, they’ll guess correctly. Empaths are like that. They don’t stop at the avatar or even the avatar of the avatar. They aren’t as easy to manipulate because the pathways we use to make decisions are not typical. They are often the result of trauma or forged from having to figure out how to use a skill that people would blatantly reject you for wielding before you get the sucker mastered. Most of us came from disastrous childhoods or had one too many run-ins with narcissists so we had to learn how to discern the true motives of people, sense danger from ten light years away and figure out a way around it before it had a chance to surface. True empaths are masters at keeping peace. You will know them by their fruits. In terms of awareness, it’s like the difference between a stadium light and a flashlight.

To say that we could do a lot of good for humanity is an understatement. You just don’t realize what you don’t realize. I think neurodivergence, in general, is helpful to humanity. And I think that’s how Mother Nature works no matter who does the what and the where and the how. It’s helpful to remember the difference between avatar and energy. To test your gut with other guts and see if your intuition still works, to expand your consciousness to places words and logic cannot go. Informed evolution means taking your humanity, your ability to experience authentic feelings, with you.

And may it find you well.

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The Devil Said What!??

Heaven at Night AkA Ode to the SlumLoards

Heaven for the nightkeepers, the nighthawks, the nightwalkers, quite a different place than what most are used to. Like the Devil tarot card, darkness, despite appearances, also leads us unto Light. The Divine Trickster, (Oh GOD, you Devil) when all a person will accept, for whatever reason, is darkness and corruption, Divinity shows up in that form. It makes for an easily discernible family tree.

I had really thought going into 2019 was going to be a tiny bit easier than it’s turning out to be. There’s good, there’s bad and there’s a pig in a dress. I’m ready for that good good, that slow cooked so good you forget your own naaame kinda good. Sigh. One moment and bit at a time, I guess. Shimmering waves of Light filtering in, I’ll have to bathe in my imagination until then.

I feel like I’ve been standing at the bridge between worlds for so long. Like a boat that never really leaves shore, just watching the passengers get confused, they board and then leave, board and then leave. I forget I don’t actually have to wait for anyone, I can walk on by, walk away, keep a sailin’, sailin’ to further and farther shores. I can drop this end of the bridge, the water that drowns some, barely reaches the tops of my toes now, it’s been so long, so long, so long between worlds.

I’ve been pondering the Devil, the darkness, those that prey on the weak. Dressed in fine clothes and riding in fancy cars, or wearing jeans and a 50 dollar sweatshirt driving a pick-up. Canned hunting of the disordered and traumatized. With a button. The Devil sits me down and has a talk, got kinda mad I would consider these his. “Not my goddamned kids!” he says. “See all that bad shit over there, that really bad shit that these people should be caring about… instead of hunting the likes of you, Goddaughter… that’s my work. Not these …these… (he nearly chokes on the word) huuuumans, these, these half-lings, these …” and that’s where I cut ‘im off.

Cause I know. I know that though the Devil makes sense (and in this case it does make sense, for example human trafficking? ignore, victim of human trafficking using drugs to numb the pain? arrest), there is still the element of trickery, still the Truth yet to be revealed. To them, if not us. I make my peace, I understand those ways, but also…why not…

Tell them. Show them. Hold up a mirror to them for what they do and what the consequence will be. Now and Later. Tell them, “you are no countrymen, you are no national pride, you are no loving father that would turn a blind eye… the world you are leaving for your kids to inherit, you think you’re hedging your bets? Open your eyes, feeding on the weak and vulnerable? To keep up with a market that is changing no matter what you do or how hard you dig your nails into our flesh… ?

And you know those tricky little fallen angels, they filled me in on some things too. “Everyone gets a Guardian Angel,” they said. “Every one.”

“mm hmn, “ I respond.

“Sometime… a long time ago… a soul died and… the body was still… you know.”


“You get the picture.”

“I do.” And many pictures came flooding through. Though once they fucked the fuck up, at least now we have em around when we need em. I was wondering why I always had the impression angels knew duality and flip floppery so well.

Anyways, like I said, things have been a little rougher than usual. Big changes. I’ve been looking at economic shtuff, things like UBI and bitcoin and billionaire philanthropic pledges juxtaposed my landlord who raised the rent on a building full of disabled renters “to keep up with the market” which has increased between 300-500 dollars in this area in the last TWO years and just about every single place demands three times income, in addition to first, last, deposit. I wonder if a UBI would make a difference? Could it? Or would people like him, whose jobs are also becoming automated, if not obsolete, just take an even bigger chunk out of our hides, since we’re disabled, and unable to run and they still think the American Dream is more important than the survival of the planet, evolution of the human genome, or basic human decency?

When the cars are automated and can’t speed what are the people who give tickets going to do for a living… was that whole race riot marshall law thing supposed to be their big pay out just like the tax malarkey was the severance package for the others who won’t be able to do business as usual except we love each other so it didn’t work?

For real though…

Thoughts that keep me up at night.

Probably why those Buddhists give the Devil the Silent Treatment  🙂

Peace Yo

If you find any value in my writing, please consider making a donation. It is very needed, truly appreciated, and always put to good use.

The Story

There’s a story that wants to be told. A story that is having a hard time revealing itself. It’s your story and it’s God’s story and it’s the story of an ancient technology. They have something to say and I haven’t quite found a safe enough space or place to reveal this story, to write without interruption. I don’t want to say that God is playing coy, but I will say we don’t want it stolen before the world has a chance to see it and unfortunately that is a real possibility in today’s world.

It feels like this one could really help us navigate the dynamics of AI and electro/magnetic storms, superhumans, hybrids, angels and a whole bunch of stuff in a safe way: as a story. To consider complex and profound ethical questions about genetic engineering and some of the potential directions it could take as well as the potential avenues our Creator, the First Creator, has to help us adjust or avoid the mistakes we may make along the way.

It is a story about this time, when decisions need to be made, truths revealed and changes embraced. It’s a story about meeting your Creator and being mature enough to decide your own way, path, fate, plan, recompense. GOD, as I know it, as many have known it, has some things to say. We were going to write it as a novel, a part deux, but alas….

I think I may have waited too long … I can hear the wolves baying.

Here is your first installment. I’ll try to be regular with it. Feel free and encouraged to provide feedback and input. We’ll call it a co-creative experiment and see if we can write a novel together, maybe we’ll do such a grand job we can use it as a blueprint for a system that is a little more awesome for a lot more people. 🙂


Chapter One: Will

The man woke to the sound of water and the warmth of sun on his face. He rolled over as if to snuggle in deeper to the sand. He slowly became aware of the sounds of birds and wind rustling through leaves. From the quiet drowsiness of his mind to a sudden awareness that he was not in his bed, or hearing the sound of traffic. He woke with a start.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He surveyed the scene before him trying to grasp what was happening. “Whaaaatt the fuuuccckk?” he murmured and startled himself with the sound of his own voice. He scrambled to his feet as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings in a way that his mind was not yet ready to tolerate.

He was on a beach. Beautiful, but definitely not downtown or winter or Minnesota. He scratched his head and attempted to close his mouth, which had been hanging open in wonderment.

He started walking down the hilly beach to the water in front of him, stumbling and kicking up sand. His bladder made him take a quick right turn and head for the trees. Once relieved of his morning burden, he again headed towards the water. There, he surveyed the stunning view unable to decide if he was awake or dreaming. The setting reminded him so much of the vision he would hold in his head when life became too unbearable. It looked exactly like his proverbial and completely made up happy place. Yet here he was. Like a dream he was somehow awake for.

With his back to the water, he turned to purview the rest of the landscape. If this was indeed his envisioned happy place, there should be a waterfall and abundant greenery. Giant trees that smelled like they knew what life was all about. A hammock strung between a couple of the taller and strongest, the kind of trees that seemed more like wise old guardians than anything else.

He was following that hunch now as he headed for the trail that would take him deeper into the tropical and lush unknown.

The path was bordered by ferns in varieties he had never seen before. Not even in his happy and heretofore imaginary place. Just a few feet from the path, every inch of the landscape seemed to be an artist’s dream. There were flowers of every color possible. There were vines and foliage that seemed placed by a gardener with an eye for the profound, yet wild in their embrace.

He had probably walked for an hour in utter awe when an overwhelming feeling of serenity began to settle in to his marrow. He was sure now, though confused by the possibility, that he was indeed in the little paradise he had assumed only existed in his imagination.

He heard the waterfall and felt the cool breeze it brought with it and fought the urge to run to it. As he stepped through the edge of the trees, the view was breathtaking. The water pouring over multi-colored rocks was creating rainbows unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Rainbows with 10 times more colors, rainbows with 20 times more colors, rising with the mist it appeared they were dancing. He felt the beauty in every cell of his being and the only thing he could do was sit down and embrace the feeling.

Time seemed to stand still as he took it all in. The thought finally occurred to him, to test the water. As he dipped his hand into this flowing embodiment of beauty, he felt a surge of energy course through his body, as if the water was alive, conscious, sending waves of vitality right through his skin and straight to his heart. He stood up and began reaching for his buttons, excited to jump in, when the thought hit him in the back of the skull like a bullet, hold up cowboy, what if you’re not alone?

He decided to wait on a full dip into the glorious pool in front of him and instead shucked his shoes off and waded just briefly…but that brief stint was the closest thing to heaven he had ever felt. It was with great difficulty that he pulled himself from the water and back to dry land.

The water had done the trick and his mind seemed sharper than he ever remembered feeling. He flexed his muscles, did a few jumping jacks, swinging his arms wildly with vigor, he came to a rest with his palms smooth and together in front of his heart. “Namaste, beautiful place,” he said with a smile. With serenity now clear in his step, he began in earnest to explore the strange landscape he had awoken to.


“Storm clouds coming in, we should get moving!” Luke bellowed.

The sound of Jane’s frantic movements rose from the tent. She unzipped the door and began a crouching half-dance, half falling, trip over the threshold before landing almost gracefully on her rump, hollering, “Don’t leave without us, damn it!”

Madge and Luke made the briefest eye contact and continued folding up their gear and stuffing it into the backpacks. Lucy willed herself to move from beneath the warmth of the wool covers Jane had thrown on her. Jane came back to the tent and began taking the stakes out of the ground. Lucy didn’t actually depart from the cozy hovel until after it was collapsed around her.

Sleeping bags in tow, she began emerging from the folds and layers of tent fabric. Scrambling for the light, she grabbed the canteen and lantern and finally emerged into the cool autumn morning. Scanning the horizon, she hurried into overdrive getting the rest of the gear ready for the hike. “You weren’t kidding,” she mumbled, suppressing the urge to stare at the approaching Death Raker.

“How far to the closest plasma bunker?” Jane asked.

“14 kilometers,” Luke replied.

“And how many plasma shields do we have left?” Madge asked no one in particular. It was Jane and Lucy’s turn to exchange furtive glances.

“4,” Lucy replied.

Madge was kicking dirt over the last of the ember’s and when she was satisfied, the quartet headed South, away from the storm and towards the caves they had passed the previous evening. It was in the opposite direction from where they needed to go, but they wouldn’t be going anywhere if the edge of that storm got to them before they got to the caves.

The Death Rakers began almost 3 years ago. It’s hard to believe what a human can adapt to, but adapt some did.  The storms short-circuit everything electrical within a half-mile radius of its center, including the human brain and heart.

“Pick up the pace ladies!” Luke called over his shoulder as his led the quartet on to safety.

“I don’t know what he’s in such a hurry for, without my shield, he’s as dead as the rest of them. Or worse,” Jane grumbled. “He should be carrying me on a golden chariot. I’m his get out of being a zombie -or worse– free card.” Her thighs burned but she reached down deep for any reserves of strength she had. Lucy took her hand, pulling her into a quicker pace, helping her catch up to the man leading them to the caves.

“If he wanted to just kill you and take those shields,” she whispered harshly, “you realize he is more than physically capable of pulling that off, right? It’s only the memory of his son that keeps him from doing that. What happened to team work makes the dream work, Jane?” Lucy was well aware that she was the only one of the four that would be surviving the storm no matter what, but she wasn’t about to tell the others that, even Jane, who she suspected already knew her secret.

They reached the opening of the cave. The edge of the storm began to break across the valley. Jane took out the plasma shield and placed it in the center of the crystal grid Lucy was putting the final touches on. The 4 stepped inside the grid and closed their eyes. Jane pulled the pin on the shield and immediately they were encased in a thick plasma, an energetic shield that paused their heart and brain activity but protected them from the onslaught of the Death Raker. Time for them had stopped. The plasma would wear off in 20 minutes but the storm would have passed by then leaving their brain and heart activity unchanged instead of irrevocably rewired with unknown consequences.

As the effects of the plasma encasement wore off, Jane noticed her heart racing much faster than usual. The lethargy that usually accompanied the return to the land of the living had been soundly replaced with a ringing in her ears and erratic thumping that could only point to one thing, her body was beginning to reject it’s only salvation.

Lucy took note of Jane’s red cheeks and moved to get closer. “We have to get to a hold out zone today.” Jane replied with just a nod and panicked look in her eye.

“Let’s move out guys, we have to find a bunker now!” Luke helped Madge who was still feeling the post-plasma stupor and the group began to ascend the rocks taking them farther from water but closer to safety.


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