outsideinroads

Life games, music, magic and all the rest. Adventures of the fringe of the fringe amongst the.. "People's Republic of Brighton and Hove"


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Flicker between worlds

fantasy-island-wallpaper

Stop. Breathe. Feel the world

Tumble down in the wail cadence

at the start of Erasure’s Sometimes.

 

Take a pace forward. You

know that iridesce

is a flicker between worlds,

overlay elements,

myth potential.

The ones you work with live

There, perhaps, in between worlds to

here, like this role in reverse.

 

The lands there appear differentiated too,

a stack of

 

 

 

which flickers, alike, different, to this space

and always has.

 

Yet things are different there, the same. When

spaces integrate I have

seen entities expanded over entire sky,

encountered beings up close in a

myriad of forms, sung to the dark

 and beautiful abstract mask spirits who cluster

around leaves and trees. Been encouraged in

process, shit and vomit by serious,

giggling gnomes. Felt >bzzz< wings against my

legs, learnt strategies, developed relationships,

friendships,

developed strength, and felt myself give it to them.

 

The question of reality is a misnomer.

The Otherworld does not exist

on the same plane as this

Space. Is this imagination? Pretend?

Dimensional? It doesn’t matter.

The shifts made through

interaction                              (between this non matter and)

matter.

The potentials created, envisaged,

the layers, those layers of being, life.

 

It is time to call the worlds together.

This is the

Battle. The only war that matters,

to paraphrase Diane. And yes,

it is the power of our imaginations, and

the power of working with their elements

as whirling, existent, experiencing in their own right,

which brings us to

strengths and possibilities

we did not know we had. The chance

for real change I can perceive

lies in aligning to these realms,

Honouring these spaces,

spirits, energies, that we have always

sensed. Seeing where they take us,

and where we may go with them.

 

What next? That daoist/BDSM symbol still appearing,

                        maybe, recently,

on surprise church windows in Africa,

back in the roundhouse in Wales.

 

Do you want to come

along? There’s a bridge to build

on this quest

and it’s not made of stones, but

wonderment, curiosity, stories.

Discoveries, energies, balances.

Space, Love, care, observation, listening,

communing,

communicating,

space.

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Owold’s 11 no.?

Owold beach

The kind of home splace invasion sectored out by instinct and your words cutting through ice like butter,

                                              fantasy space, fantasy animals

we know and the questioning reality is exactly why we followed this path,

but what is the path itself?

                   Get back on it. Get back on it.

It bleeds and suckers to//read accounts that are all too human and

one knows their closeness, sensed in physical space of mind,

in physical space of body

 

Does exist out~~

side# of?

 

Where reality is made and….

 

Tell ourself a bundle of kindling tails, get lost in the undergrowth,

singing,

humming,

screed to (distant)screaming.

 

You also told me this would not hurt me

Or at times stayed quiet on the subject

You also implied its usefulness

in process in

the clarity of seeming accounted

The clarity of experience

merged selves, create

connections beyond

 

Twelve years

in….

…….best one

…..

in

process break force stretch to

pleasant necessary sunset, to pastel fade out, to ocean vapor, to an innerspace bigger than ourselves as, to not be as we know it, to not be, to