Patrons of Cinema "Earth" Your Attention Please

Patrons of cinema "Earth" Your Attention please!

Your viewing programme is about to change.

The virtual reality that you have been observing has been a flat three dimensional representation of "Starship Earth" All feelings of free will within the simulation have been part of the training.

As we approach the broadcasting transmitters stationed around "Starship Earth" our viewing of their transmissions has caught up with their transmission. We are nearly up to date but you may feel some disorientation as we begin boarding "Starship Earth"

Genuine free will will resume when we begin to board.

You may feel senses of nausea and panick as we resume our natural dimensions. You may feel a sense of longing for the simplicities of the mere three dimensional simulated world.

This condition, known as simulation addiction, will be treated as necessary. Simply relax and accept all things which the simulation addict may find strange.

Do not cling to your past as a powerless viewer in a virtual reality machine.

Please access your pre-stasis memory trigger;

"MY LOTUS IS ABOUT TO OPEN"

And allow the streams of coincidence in the simulation to set you free . . .

My little finger is officialy broken.
It might not sound like good news, but you haven't heared my good lady spending two weeks accusing me of milking it whilst it like totaly failed to get better.

How come I wasn't making a fuss when my training partners were there etc. etc.

The X ray showed the bone in two bits because a bit chipped off it.

So may the world be reminded that I'm always right . . .

Well the "stigmata" has left a slight amount of orange blochiness, so it's probably something like athletes foot.
Almost gone now anyway.

Thanks for the comments guys, I was amused by the possibility.

Does anyone know a "cure" for stigmata?

Much to my deep embaresment as a pagan, I appear to be getting christian stigmata.

It occurs on the palms of my hands, which enthusiasts of public execution will know as the WRONG place to put the nails in a real crucifiction.

Sometimes the right hand palm even bleeds.

sugestions, please?

explainations?

offers of sympathy sex?

Abuse breeds abuse, and it's hard work becoming the break in the chain of it. Imagine having to admit you've been abused . . .

Maybe that's why so many people try to talk or abuse their way out of the quarantine for abusers.

So I run an abuse free house, no one gets coerced, no one gets bullied or shouted over. No one has do do or watch anything they don't want to.

Some people take it badly, it makes me wonder what kind of rumours they're spreading in the abusers quarantine, out past the zombie fences. The crossfire that they're always trying to drag naive new blood into.

I seem to have "emerged" as the leader of martial arts groups and healing spaces in two cities now. One would be enough, I'm hoping the other one's temporary. Maybe I was elected but I missed the meeting.

Anyone want to come and train?

Life is boring and I need another job.

Yesterday was great, romance was forbidden on pain of vomiting, so we just did sex magic until the Kundalini risings resembled grand mal epilepsy, and I had visions of myself killed and dismembered.

It makes me wonder if that kind of thing comes of it's own accord or if it's just previously imprinted by all the sex and death godforms like Kali, shiva, Lillith, Ishtar and Aphrodite Ourania.

Today time goes slowly, I can get more things done, my little aches and pains have gone and I keep giggling at just about everything.

Cool.

I put a Pan invocation on the Pagan Peeps newsgroup.

Grrrrrr.

Pissed off.

Someone suddenly accused me of fucking with his head because a lady he thought he was in love with felt safe with me, and avoided going home with him.

This was of course nothing to do with him making drunken death threats to her friends, and attacking men who another woman (whom he felt that he owned) chose to pay more attention to.

Oh yes, and five years ago, someone did something in a room with half a dozen people and the lights out, and that was me aparently. (Well I was there)

It's a convenient accusation since I was the only one telling everyone that they shouldn't feel pressured to do anything they didn't want to that evening.

As for him however, one of the lesbians who used to be a familiar face around town had accused him of raping her a year or so earlier.

People who live in glass houses . . .

. . . they just can't help throwing stones.

I want it to rain.

Death normaly comes in threes, so maybe there's one more to go.

One cot death one hanging (suicide) so far. I don't think I met them, I'm a domino shoulder to cry on.
My lovely ritual for last night was cancelled due to bereavement. My partner turned up after spending the evening with next of kin.

I'm going to get 'round to a lot more things that I want to do this evening, because it's ending every second at a time.