Page Three/a day without food

the warrior, the witch and the gods working behind the scenes, 24/7

when a day goes by but never really ends, when sentances are left to float in mid air. when time continues but in another zone, unmeasured. a day with thoughts provoked. There is no closure, instead things are left with an opening to the unknown.

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what can we say of this witch figure?...she takes energies out of consciousness and pulls them toward the unconscious to forge a link between the two mental systems.we know the roots of our consciousness reach deep into the non human, archaic unconscious...the witch archetype makes visable to the very depths of what is humanly possible, the great silences at the edge of being.she stirs up storms that invade whole communities of people. she conducts vast collective energies to our very doorstep...these undirected unhumanized spirit forces are symbolized for us as ghost, dead ancestors, gods and goddesses come up from the worlds below....what do we gain from this vision? a sense of perspective....the witch-seer makes us see into the proportions of life...the radical impact of the witch archetype is that she invades the civilized community. she enters it. she changes it...she hearalds the timeless process of orginating out of the unconscious new forms of human consciousness and society

Whatever it is...let it go

Place:The Gulf Coast

Time:Sunset

Objctive: To clear my head

August/full moon

I decided that on the next full moon I would look for my magic wand. a process that can not be rushed. it could take 5 minutes or 100 years to find, or maybe it had already taken 100 years and I would stumble across it on this eve as if it had been waitng for me to stop and pick it up.

Page Two/first entry

can't seem to stay grounded, feel like i am flying away, time moves so fast, i can't stand still. nothing is happening before my eyes. can't get enough but have too much, always looken for something i can't seem to find. everything looks blurry from here, when i'm high things are clear but i am still here. never somewhere in the middle, the place that i stay is still foreign to me. crescent moon and water under the bridge, I can see clearer now. finding a familiar face in the crowd makes me know there's a light all around. we are all strangers coming together and we grow in multitudes. take only what you can give back as we feed off of each other. to get inside of you by standing next to you.

Page One/the attic

Date: August

Place: The Attic

i found the diary's in August as i was in the attic searching for an old typewriter. i am not sure which is more significant...the diary's or the typewriter? this is only a small part of my find. the attic was so fucking hot but the pull to dig around was strong. The heat would give me a good sweat.

I had heard from a neighbor that there was some sort of typewriter business here, this i haven't fully researched but I will. I remembered when I moved in we had more than a few old typewriters hangen around and one day in my cleaning mode i took them all to the thrift store where someone else would be lured by them and take them home but only to dust. Now as I remember back...what was I thinking. So, what was a typewriter doing in the attic....waiting for me to rescue it from the heat? getting in the attic is a chore in it's self. First find the step ladder so I can reach the string, then find the extension cord (never where it should be) then the lamp, preferably with a light bulb that still works. I have learned over the years the rituals of the attic.

There is an old thermomater placed on one of the beams, my favorite thing, who would put a thermomater in an attic? It is always faithful at confirming how hot it really. My game is to guess the temperture before I read the thermomater. I am guessing 110, pretty close it was 102.