I Gave Myself to You

How about a little postoperative, morphine music…?

Snakefinger and The Vestal Virgins. I Gave Myself to You… Dig it…

White Rabbit

Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?

The Cheshire Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.

Alice: I don’t much care where.

The Cheshire Cat: Then it doesn’t much matter which way you go.

Alice: …So long as I get somewhere.

The Cheshire Cat: Oh, you’re sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.

~ Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Hey, cats and kittens, the Airplane…

“You take the blue pill, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

~ Morpheus, The Matrix

The Magic Tree

Alone here

In the secret garden

Heavy, sickly heat

My snowflake gown

Melting

A cool breeze

Just now

Consoles me

I feel him

Before

I see him

Walk on by

Dripping with dread

Clad in Red

Severe

He stands now

Beneath

The Magic Tree

Crashing cymbals

Smashing

Anguished screams

“Where are you, my Love?!?

Where, my Everything?!?

Why hast thou forsaken me?!?”

The first stoic man in Blue

Comes

Striding through

“Blue Man,

The man clad in Red,

Full of dread

Is this the one

You seek?

Be gentle

He has lost

Is lost

Love

He is crying

Dying

You will find him

Under

The Magic Tree…”

Blue stoic

Growing empathy

But

For Red’s sorrow

I see the Tree

Is not as Magic

As I hoped

It could be

For, surely,

If it were

Love

There would be

Instead

The Blue men

Gently shepherd

The Red man

Away

I must

Make haste

Of this place

Tout suite

Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You

But, babe, I gotta ramble…

So…? Let’s rock a really groovy-hard one for the road, baby. A favourite of all Time and Space…

I’ll be back again. We’ll go walkin’ through the park every day! Come what may! Every day!
💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

With a Little Luck…

The Willow turns his back on inclement weather. If he can do it. We can do it…

Another Tricky Day

Hey, cats and kittens, here come my hooligans again…

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, Fransico Goya

❤👿❤

The ‘Joker’ is a tortured soul?

This is REALLY bad.

He looks really afraid and bewildered — no doubt heavily medicated — to me? There’s something in his ‘ness’? He doesn’t know what’s going on anymore than the rest of us? He’s broken?

The ‘monster’ show isn’t materialising for me, yet again. Vilifying this young man will not serve us well. No. Not at all. He needs help. We need help. This is a monstrous scenario. Our society — all of us — are implicated here. We’d best step-up.

Maybe there are few real ‘monsters’, only monstrous scenarios? What if they’re all just sad, pathetic, broken people? Broken beyond reason, comprehension?

Who broke them so badly? Who? What? Where? When? Why? How?

F**k.

The help being offered many is no help at at all, Batman? Someone should have seen this coming? It would seem those who did stood idly by?

!¡!THWAP!¡!

They chose to do nothing. Then said, “Oh, we knew something was wrong.” They let him down. They let us down. They let everyone die. Don’t make he same choice they made. If you choose not to decide you still have made a choice. Don’t be indifferent. It doesn’t look good on you, baby…

And… Everyone is destroyed. Just. Like. That.

The victims. The kid. The psychiatrist. Their communities… The Batman. It’s ripples reverberate ever outward. All because no one acted to help the boy. Maybe they even helped push him over the edge? I dunno? I think someone, something did.

The sleep of reason produces monsters. Let us try to understand this boy, this tragedy as best we can. Try to heal it and each other. Lest we become the monsters we fear so ourselves.

We can do better than this. We must.

Sleepers just stop sleepin’…

We’re burning daylight.

❤❤❤

Help!

Anyone else have these silly, euphoric moments where Life and Music — especially the Beatles — consort in perfect synchronicity? I’ve had a quite few. This is one. The first one. It’s a James Bond (Austin Powers?) moment, too…

❤❤❤

I was waiting at a bus terminal to transfer and listening to my cassette Walkman when I was younger, so much younger than today.

Bus arrives. Everyone queues. I’m an ‘after you’ kind of girl. So, I bring up the rear.

Mix-tape ends. Flip it. Press play. Look up. Everyone’s on? The driver is waiting on me. Smiling at me.

Oops! Sorry, dude!

Make to step up.

The moment my foot touches the stair the James Bond Theme intro to Help! by the Beatles starts!

Bah! Bah! Bah!

He-e-e-e-ey. Alright.

“Do-do do do-do-do do-do do…”

I smile. Suppress laughter. Flash my pass. Wink. Nod.

Bond, Jane Bond.

The driver smiles back at me just as large? Can he can hear it, too, I wonder?

Wade down the aisle…

“Do-do-do do-do do-do-do…”

Size up all possible threats as I go. Double Agents? Assassins? No?

“Bah! Bah! Bah!”

Everyone smiled back? So? It’s all good. I’m clear. Haven’t been ‘made’.

“Bah! Bah! Bah!”

I plunk down into an available seat toward the back at the exact moment the Lads shout…

“Help! I need somebody!”

Whoa! It was just getting way too Cosmic! WAY.

“Help! Not just anybody!”

I burst out laughing! I just couldn’t ‘help’ it!

“Help! You know I need someone!”

It was an entirely impeccable coincidence!

“He-e-e-e-elp!…”

Perfect!!! Groovy-good! Holy 🐮!!!

Felt like I was in a Bond movie, — or, the as yet to be created: The Spy Who Shagged Me? A silly spy musical with the Lads?

Sometimes, when I’m feeling extra silly and cheeky I introduce myself as ‘Bond. Jane Bond’ because of that.

I ❤❤❤❤❤ it when the canvases of Life and Music harmonise at once in flawless synergy. Très bien ensemble. Beautiful.

Hey, cats and kittens, here’s some Help!

Black Liquorice

Jackson Pollock, Number 8, 1951, Black Flowing

🔥🔥🔥

Iron Maiden’s inferno

Emerging fireworks

Another midnight

Midway on the Midway

An illustrated man appears

Black scribbles

Collective erotica

Licking his skin

Rough yet smooth

Fire

Phallic Sharpie

Liquorice nipples

Hard but soft

I taste them

Bite them

Devour them

Consume their salt

Mark his chest

Cacophonies of sound

Kaleidoscopes of colour

Burning rapture

Conflagration in the night

🔥🔥🔥

Michelle

The Opal Sorceress
by G.A. Rosenberg
Check out his psychedelic blog at: www.wakingspirals.wordpress.com

❤❤❤❤❤

Rubber Soul was my first fave record in life (age 3?). It was released two years before I was beamed down. It had always been part of my life here on the blue planet.

When I received the cochlear implant music WAS NOT a goal of mine. Had lost it once. Was unprepared to do so again, to fail. Just wanted to be able to talk on the phone, at the grocery store, the bus stop, bank… To people who talk to me… because EVERYONE talks to me, asks me for directions, spare change…

But, then, one day the music came through the White Noise? It was very simple, all I could understand. It was the closest I’ve ever come to a bona fide, BONA FIDE religious experience! It felt like I had been kissed full on the lips by the Universe! MWAH!

And, I mean, MWAH! 💋

Holy 🐮!!! And how! 😜 YAY!!!!! HOORAY!!!!! Rainbows of ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ squared and cubed again and again x (the universal constant + infinity + absolute zero) x E=mc2!!!!!

Gasp…

RAINBOWS of it, man! RAIN-BOWS!!!!!

Fractals… of… RAINBOWS… of… LOVE! FRACTALS of ❤❤❤❤❤!

BEHOLD!

… ahem…

It was Michelle. Off Rubber Soul. Wow. Who knew? Shucks, baby, really?

❤❤❤❤❤!!!!!!!!! They ‘would say the only words I know that you’ll understand, my Michelle.’…

Sigh…

My ‘Dads’, the Lads from Liverpool, The Beatles. Letting me know they ❤ed me, that they’d get to me somehow! Crazy ❤! They sang it to me, for me? ❤😊💜 Because we ARE, the Lads and I, a ‘tres bien ensemble’,… VERY good together. 😊 Yes, very.

They reached across the Universe… it kissed me… and this is what they said:

Michelle, my belle.
These are words that go together well,
My Michelle.

Michelle, my belle.
Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble,
Très bien ensemble.

I love you, I love you, I love you.
That’s all I want to say.
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know that
You’ll understand.

Michelle, my belle.
Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble,
Très bien ensemble.

I need to, I need to, I need to.
I need to make you see,
Oh, what you mean to me.
Until I do I’m hoping you will
Know what I mean.

I love you…

I want you, I want you, I want you.
I think you know by now
I’ll get to you somehow.
Until I do I’m telling you so
You’ll understand.

Michelle, my belle.
Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble,
Très bien ensemble.

I will say the only words I know that
You’ll understand, my Michelle.

❤❤❤

At the Time they WERE the only words I could, would understand. You can imagine how Cosmic this was for a girl who’d lost her mistress, her sorceress? Believed her dead? Only to have her resurrected?

Hey, they came for me just like dads are prone to do when their offspring need them to. I’d lay down my life for those cats. In a ❤beat.

So, Rubber Soul was my first fave twice in one lifetime. ❤❤❤❤❤. Nifty. Because it was my first it had to be the second Time — and Space — around? Or was it a Cosmic Cube? A Loop?

I dunno? All I know was it was one of THE single best things to EVER happen to anyone, anywhere, anytime, cats and kittens.

Hands down.

And, it happened to me.

My ❤❤❤❤❤ and gratitude to and for the Lads is all encompassing. It knows no words nor bounds nor end… The ❤❤❤❤❤ flows between us. We are within each other and without.

Always…

Uh, yeah.