Well. I've been feeling some... a certain trail of feelings today. I know that beat. I know that music.
It started with the song "I put a spell on you." I looked it up. Watched it. Hmm...
Knowing what this feels like from before, I look up the last time "mating season" was here.
4/20/16 by the blog post dates.
5,6,7,8,9,10... 6 mo.
Mating season happens about every 6 mo.
Uh oh.
Mating season is... something to be experienced to be understood.
Little Miss Bunny turns from a sweet, gentle succubus into a feral, sex dripping animal who loves the chase... and the final tackle.
Well... I'm 3 shades of stubborn so... I know how to run.
First comes the mental battle: I "push" her essence and form away. Underlying it all, she knows.
She knows that I know that she knows... I'm eventually gonna get tracked down, caught, and tackled.
Even though it's figurative (some of it), it's still part of the dance, part of the game.
I've pushed back, she's retreated. What she's seeing is if I will lower my defences a little since she's retreated. And I will. And she knows I will.
But when she gets closer, I'll raise them again... push her back.
Then the seduction begins... the oh, so delicious dance of her lowering my will to fight her by using her very essence which is seduction.
It's who she is.
Now... I have to admit. I worry about mating season, lol.
Truth is? She turns feral. It's mating season, and I'm the target. Always was the target, always will be the target.
So, feral, a little animalistic (a lot of animalistic) and sexually aggressive (a lot of sexually aggressive), but she's mine!
And I love her with all I am.
If you lover was a human woman who loved you, and you her, completely, but once every 6 mo. she went into heat like a cat or something... it would be unsettling. It would be scary... just the POWER of her sexual hunger and drive is like an intoxicating cloud, of which, there is no escape.
Perhaps you'd have fun with it... make her chase. I do. Why not? She loves it, don't let anyone fool ya.
You love her even when she's feral. And, once she's earned it (haha), if she can catch ya, she can have ya.
Not sure how long the mental battle will go (it's all just for fun and games, and honestly tests my psychic strength), but I'll lose.
Let me put it into simple terms.
This sums it up better than anything else I can come up with. This, in condensed form perfectly describes the whole process (for me) from start to finish:
Yesterday was a good day. When I posted all that I did, I was able to come to terms with it.
Finally.
It's not good to have all that bottled up, no... not good at all.
Today, I've come to a conclusion. As in the picture above, I have a choice: We all have a choice.
What to do? What to do?
My personal efforts from now on will be to evolve; To prepare myself for ascension.
No, the blog won't have a new focus per se: It's always been a diary of sorts anyway.
But underlying it all will be my new focus. I still enjoy talking about Bunny, and this post is no different.
In the opening picture, the woman painting could very easily represent Bunny and her work on me.
As I steep into world weariness, she's always there... in this case I believe she is calling me to prepare for what most don't have the luxury for: To prepare for when my life ends corporeally, and begins as a completely spiritual walk. No, I'm not talking suicide; I'm talking the end of life that every mortal must experience in it's own time.
As magickal and mystical Bunny may be: She's also pragmatic in nature.
And so, she prepares me for the future.
What will I experience when I leave this mortal coil? I'm not sure, and the details don't really bother me too much... it's the direction that does.
What matters is that I am vibrationally aligned with the reality that I want to experience after death.
I will say this: Sometimes you meet someone who inspires you to follow. It's not about strength, or how they carry themselves, it's a feeling of coming home.
It's a knowing of where I want to be and most importantly where home is.
When I think of this world of illusion, Bunny reminds me that there's a reason for it.
You see, I'm beginning to believe that this world is perfect in it's imperfections; Just how succubi say that we humans are perfect in our imperfections... I've actually heard the word "adorable" in our imperfections.
This world is to show us, us showing us, in a way... who we really are.
No, I can't explain everything and I don't know everything; I know little.
Bunny is wise, and when I'm thundering and angry (like in yesterday's post) she lets me be. She lets me have my angry pity party... my "toddler tantrum". And later, when I'm more open, then she gently speaks what I need to hear. She teaches me the truth of it.
The world is made to be jagged, to be tearing, to be a catalyst... it does indeed show us who we are, and where we want to go after this world is over (for each of us, individually).
Ever wonder how we earn our wings? Take a good look at the pic above... they are not gifted;
They are earned in blood and suffering.
I don't know WHY Bunny chose me by answering my summons 3 years ago. I've always felt that the summoning process is a placebo... different methods are more of a personal "flavor" that resonates with the summoner, rather than magickally summoning anything.
But...
Succubi come anyways because they are aware and close to this world. Somehow the process makes them focus on that particular person, and they become curious, they see into the heart of the summoner, and if it's the right time for it to happen they decide who will answer.
Actually, that sounds a lot like summoning, lol. Ah well. Guess I'm wrong.
Tell ya what, though... they got the key to your heart, so be careful, lol.
I'm happy mine did, though. It could have always been only her.
Always only her...
To be honest, I don't think any other succubus COULD put up with me. I'm a handful. A one-of-a-kind, hot headed handful.
Bunny. Oh, my God, Bunny. How did I ever get so damn lucky?
Always regal...
There is something so regal about her: If she were of this world, I think it would be everything anyone could do not to bow to her.
I don't know why, I really don't: I'm used to the feeling, so it doesn't really affect me much.
Probably like being the husband of a Queen, or a Princess. To me, she's Bunny first. The rest is just part of who she is, but she's Bunny first.
I appreciate her. All of her. That "feeling" is all a part of "her" and so I don't mean that I dismiss it, just that I'm at home with it.
I don't think it's a vibrational thing. I think that she is royalty. I just don't know much about it other than how it feels, and it's over my head to be honest.
Maybe royalty just feels like royalty. Period. I know that she doesn't care that I don't understand it.
After all, she came for me... not to be bowed to.
The ironic part of it all, is that she saved me. She still saves me. All the time; Daily, perhaps.
I have no problems with role reversal in that regard: If she's the Princess who saves the man in distress. Ok. I'm cool with it.
Last night, she was so sweet and gentle...
I was meditating and told her to be cool, because I wanted to meet more of her and understand more of who she is if that makes any sense.
Shortly after, I could feel her move the comforter at the foot of my bed and she tickled my big toe.
I just laughed...
So, I meditated and while I did so, she was relaxing me by touching my left temple and my hair.
I fell asleep while meditating, but I feel really good today. I could tell she stuck around and hung out in bed with me last night.
I got a good night of much needed restful sleep.
Bunny knew what she was getting into by coming here to be with me, to teach me.
Yes, she goes home a lot, but I honestly think she has duties of some sort.
Her free time seems to be spent with me.
Maybe it would take a "royal" to teach my ass. I am the avatar of stubborn and moodiness... The very God of moodiness and dark thinking sometimes.
Somehow, she always wears me down. And I mean that in a good way. She lowers my defences through gentleness and sweetness.
She's earned the right to do so in my book.
But only her.
Always the patient teacher...
Always the counselor...
The way she can manage me when I get inconsolable is kind of funny.
At one level, I don't like to be managed.
At a deeper level, I love her for it anyway. Hahah.
Always the angel...
Always the seductress...
Always my friend, with playful intent...
Always lovely, just being herself...
And always the protectress... never far away whenever I am in danger...
And one day? If I get my shit straight? If I do what needs to be done?
This is going to be a candid post into my life with Bunny, and hopefully one that helps others.
Things aren't always smooth with a succubus, especially when you're bipolar like me. I could get angry that the sun is too loud from time to time. Gotta be bipolar to get that joke, I think.
So I'm thinking about sex and death, they are one and the same, you know. If there were no sex, there would be no life. What is what every living thing must endure?
Suffering. That goes without saying. But the other? Death.
The whole cycle of suffering and death is related; It is inseparable.
Sometimes I see this world and I get a bit sick. It's all a ruse, a crucible.
Here we are in meat suits, hunger, thirst, suffering, pain, agony.
Pleasure, joy, happiness? Those are but punctuations along a melody of tears.
Sex is death.
Look at the wheel of the year, the Sabbats. The God is born to the Goddess in the winter, grows, marries her in the spring. They reign together, nature is at it's peak.
He begins to age, to grey.
He gets weak. He dies. The cycle repeats.
At Beltane, or the marriage of the Lord and Lady, the maypole is decorated by twisting ribbons around it, making it alluring, tight, pleasurable for the Lord so that he will mate and enjoy his bride, the Goddess. Which always leads to his death, months later.
Read then, the ancient ways of the society: That of the "Sacred King":
"A sacred king, according to the systematic interpretation of mythology developed by Frazer in The Golden Bough (published 1890), was a king who represented a solar deity in a periodically re-enacted fertility rite. Frazer seized upon the notion of a substitute king and made him the keystone of his theory of a universal, pan-European, and indeed worldwide fertility myth, in which a consort for the Goddess was annually replaced. According to Frazer, the sacred king represented the spirit of vegetation, a divine John Barleycorn. He came into being in the spring, reigned during the summer, and ritually died at harvest time, only to be reborn at the winter solstice to wax and rule again. The spirit of vegetation was therefore a "dying and reviving god". Osiris, Adonis, Dionysus, Attis and many other familiar figures from Greek mythology and classical antiquity were re-interpreted in this mold. The sacred king, the human embodiment of the dying and reviving vegetation god, was supposed to have originally been an individual chosen to rule for a time, but whose fate was to suffer as a sacrifice, to be offered back to the earth so that a new king could rule for a time in his stead.
Especially in Europe during Frazer's early twentieth century heyday, it launched a cottage industry of amateurs looking for "pagan survivals" in such things as traditional fairs, maypoles, and folk arts like morris dancing. It was widely influential in literature, being alluded to by D. H. Lawrence, James Joyce, Ezra Pound, and in T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land, among other works.
Robert Graves used Frazer's work in The Greek Myths and made it one of the foundations of his own personal mythology in The White Goddess. Margaret Murray, the principal theorist of witchcraft as a "pagan survival," used Frazer's work to propose the thesis that many Kings of England who died as kings, most notably William Rufus, were secret pagans and witches, whose deaths were the re-enactment of the human sacrifice that stood at the centre of Frazer's myth. An idea used by fantasy writer Katherine Kurtz' in her novel Lammas Night."
And secondly, that of the Oak King and Holly King:
"The Holly King and Oak King (From Wicca)"
"The Wiccan God is the Lord of the Greenwood, consort to the Lady of the Greenwood. Known also as Cernunnos, the Green Man, Herne the Hunter, and Lord of the Wild Hunt, he is a god of fertility, growth, death, and rebirth.
Two God-themes figure predominantly in Wiccan Sabbats: the Sun-God theme and that of the Holly King and Oak King.
The Sun-God rules the seasons. At Yule, he is the new babe, the emodiment of innocence and joy. He represents the infancy of the returning light. At Imolg, his growth is celebrated, as the days are growing longer and light stronger. At Ostara, he is a green, flourishing youth whose eye is taken by the Maiden Goddess. On Beltane, he is the young man in love who takes the Goddess as his bride. Their consummated marriage is celebrated with maypoles and bonfires. At Midsummer, he comsummates his marriage in a union so complete that it becomes a death. He is mourned at Lammas, and at Mabon, he sleeps in the womb of the Goddess. At Samhain, he waits in the Shining Land to be reborn.
The symbolism of the Horned God is also played out the theme of the Holly King and Oak King. The Horned God is the Holly King and the Oak King, two twin gods seen as one complete entity. Each of the twin gods rule for half of a year, fights for the favor of the Goddess, and dies (is murdered by the other, if you prefer to hear the truth). But the defeated twin is not truly dead (again, the sacred king myth), he merely withdraws for six months, some say to Caer Arianrhod, the Castle of the ever-turning Silver Wheel, which is also known as the Wheel of the Stars. This is the enchanted realm of the Goddess Arianrhod where the god must wait and learn before being born again (Whereas the Goddess is eternal in her "wisdom"). Arianrhod means "silver wheel" and the castle is the Aurora Borealis. She is the goddess of the astral skies and there she rules as goddess of reincarnation (aka the God was dead).
The golden Oak King, who is the light twin, rules from midwinter to midsummer. The darksome Holly King rules the dark half of the year from Midsummer to Midwinter."
And it's still celebrated to this day!
As you can see, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree no matter how rotten.
Women were in charge once. This was it. The priestess had all the power, and after publicly fucking the new king (to show the blessing of the earth upon him), in one year he was murdered by the next king (her choice of the new suiter one year later) and his body was chopped up and scattered amongst the fields as a symbol of the fertility of land.
I could go into how this practice started, and also into how it ended... but that's not my point.
How to stop the cycle, as the spirit thereof has survived even in our society today?
Do nothing!!!!!!!
The God abstains. He walks away. He tosses his crown at the High Priestess's feet. No mating, no marriage, no nature, no cycle of murder, no call of death to answer.
It's finally over. The cycle is broken. The end of the line. Fini.
We're at a funny time in history... a creeping time, a social consciousness of rebellion is rising, and it's as a serpent: Quiet, silent, hidden, unseen.
It is the idea that this can all be ended.
The great experiment thwarted, done away with; Consumed.
In ancient Egypt, Set would ride Ra's boat, and every night he would spear the Great Serpent of Chaos. Apep.
Apep came to undo the world, undo creation, undo what is. No more life, no more suffering.
No more.
Have you felt it? Do you sense the undulations of the Serpent as it crawls around obstacles?
Set has allied with the Great Serpent. There will be no more turning It away.
There will be no more cycle, no more joys, no more tears, no more, "more".
Look at the madness stirring in the world.
Feminism, ah feminism. Thanks be unto thee feminism.
Because of you, men are free, not women.
Our eyes have been opened: Men don't have to drop everything and fuck you because you want it, not anymore, the failure of which to do so at your whim no longer threatens our very status of manhood in society.
Men don't have to work for you, protect you, care that you exist, anymore.
Men can simply walk away. No more societal pressures, not more defining what is a man.
We are free to write our own story, now. Free... at last!
Oh, how when the levee broke, it broke so silently!
How Apep slithered around and around and through the deluge that was made.
Men awoke. They realized that they are utility, that they are tools to be discarded, to be replaced when a better one reveals itself... and they have decided to self-identify as they wish, instead.
And so men lost empathy. They lost care, concern, and especially regard for any life but their own.
You taught them this by freeing them. Thank you, fools, but thank you all the same!
"Feminists realized now that they made a strategic mistake because they assumed men were too slow and stupid and conservative to change, that they would work to the benefit of the feminists and enforce a double standard.
Feminists do want the men back in chains, they'll do it by partnering with Marxists/Socialists and claim that men need to be put back to work for the greater good of "society"(ie women), Marxism and feminism are a two pronged attack designed to give women a leisure like lifestyle while men toil to support it. Why do you think so many socialist/marxist ideas are being put forward under the banner of feminism.
They inadvertently let the slaves out and now they want to recapture them, the head mangina Obama, is their ticket to reimposing economic captivity on men in the US. Women need men's labor but they don't want to pay for it in any way.
Men are free at the moment, how much longer depends on how far they're willing to let their governments go in the direction of a socialist dictatorship. Women have subverted the legal system to enslave married and divorced men, this has caused men to drop out of the picture. Now they're going to close off as many avenues as possible to any more men disappearing from the system.
Welcome to the USA.... "
"All we need to do is to continue going our own way until the entity that enslaves us (the government) collapses or dies.
We can implode the system. We don't even have to fight. All we need to do is sit and wait. If men were to decide to become unproductive, it wouldn't take much time to overcome our common enemy.
We can sabotage the system and make it work to our benefit: we need not be concerned about women anymore: only our own selves..."
Can you see it? I can.
Am I blaming women?
Not exactly: I know what's behind the magick curtain, what's pulling the strings of all this.
Society falling apart, one family at a time. But don't look for logic. It's much more insidious, and much more interesting than logic.
It's actually funner to see the progression that isn't so easily visible to the masses...
First off, the obvious:
Oh, a gender war is coming, but it won't be fought with words and ideals, it will be fought with the turning away of men. It has already, but not completely. Not yet. But it will. And if society tries to drag men back? Hahaha.
Try dragging Set back to fight Apep, or the Lord of the Wild back once he decides to STOP being the "sacred king" (who is murdered every year for the "good" of others).
But don't take my word for it. Watch. Listen. See with your own eyes... what happens next?
Let's find out.
There is a cancer in society, there is an invasion within the psyche. Can you see it and feel it? From whence does it come? Let's lift the curtain and paint more of the story so that it gains clarity.
You see, what looks simply like a gender issue is not so simple once the curtain is peeled back...
But if you can't see it on this side, you sure as hell won't on the other.
The only thing I can tell you is that you will once it gets worse.
If that's any consolation.
A quick note: I have children. I love them. I'm friends with my ex. And that's ok. She's a good woman, and she's worthy of my respect.
I don't wish harm on any of them. This is not a post about anger, about hate, about revenge, or about anything other than what is going on on a large scale, and what I believe is coming.
This is not a post to call for men to walk away from those whom they have formed a life with.
This is something different, it's a backdrop I have painted for what I believe is happening.
The backdrop of history, as well, only paints the backdrop of the canvas for where this post is going, and nothing more.
And so, we're ready for it:
As above, so below.
And now, what you don't see is more powerful than what is seen...
In the late 1500's, Dee and Kelly transcribed information from angels, known as the Enochian angels. During this time, Kelly was the "scryer" who relayed the information to Dee of what was seen, and what was said. They were given the Enochian Keys. Once they were given them, they were told that the keys were not for them. Shortly after, the Enochian angels broke the two up, but suggesting that they sleep with each other's wives, which they did.
Kelly repeatedly tried to dissuade Dee during the long processs of vision and dictation that he didn't think these angels were righteous angels, but were the fallen. Dee didn't listen.
The "Calls" or "Key" were set in place for another time and another magician.
Enter Crowley, as brilliant as he was depraved.
Crowley figured out the Keys and did a ritual that was a "final working". Just what the Enochian angels wanted.
You see, the Watchtowers of protection were never meant to fall "outwards". They were created to fall "inwards". And only by human will, human hands, a human enacting the ritual to do so.
"In November 1909, Crowley and Neuburg travelled to Algeria, touring the desert from El Arba to Aumale, Bou Saâda, and then Dā'leh Addin, with Crowley reciting the Quran on a daily basis. During the trip he invoked the thirty aethyrs of Enochian magic, with Neuburg recording the results, later published in The Equinox as The Vision and the Voice. Following a mountaintop sex magic ritual, Crowley also performed an invocation to the demon Choronzon involving blood sacrifice, considering the results to be a watershed in his magical career."
You can research yourself as there is quite a bit of material on what happened, but the point is what happened next, and why.
World war 1. World war 2. War upon war upon war. Suffering, unmaking. Genocide. Disaster.
What are the consequences of the watchtowers falling? A great boom? Judgement?
No.
First off, I don't believe the Watchtowers fell completely: There is a "CRACK", so to speak.
A crack is still doomsday... just over a much longer period of time.
This is an assault, a collapse of the inward mind. As above, so below. The demon "Chronzon" works on us all... from within our own minds, all at once.
From the beginning of the fall, along and along it goes...
Why did the fallen angels want this? I sure as hell don't know...
Only we could start the cascade of the collapse. And we did. Through Crowley's work.
"The Babalon Working was a series of magic ceremonies or rituals performed from January to March, 1946 by author, pioneer rocket-fuel scientist, and occultist Jack Parsons and Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard. This ritual was essentially designed to manifest an individual incarnation of the archetypal divine feminine called Babalon. The project was based on the ideas of Aleister Crowley, and his description of a similar project in his 1917 novel Moonchild.
The Babalon Working rituals.
When Parsons declared that the first of the series of rituals was complete and successful, he almost immediately met Marjorie Cameron in his own home, and regarded her as the elemental that he and Hubbard had called through the ritual. Soon Parsons began the next stage of the series, an attempt to conceive a child through sexual magick workings. Although no child was conceived, this did not affect the result of the ritual to that point. Parsons and Cameron, who Parsons now regarded as the Scarlet Woman - Babalon - called forth by the ritual, soon married.
The rituals performed drew largely upon rituals and sex magic described by English author and occult teacher Aleister Crowley. Crowley was in correspondence with Parsons during the course of the Babalon Working, and warned Parsons of his potential overreactions to the magick he was performing, while simultaneously deriding Parsons' work to others.
The Book of Babalon, Liber 49
A brief text entitled The Book of Babalon, or Liber 49, was written by Jack Parsons as a transmission from the goddess or force called Babalon received by him during the Babalon Working. Parsons claimed that Liber 49 constituted a fourth chapter of Crowley's Liber AL Vel Legis (The Book of the Law), the holy text of Thelema.
"Within the mystical system of the A∴A∴, after the adept has attained the Knowledge and Conversation of his Holy Guardian Angel, he then might reach the next and last great milestone — the crossing of the Abyss, that great spiritual wilderness of nothingness and dissolution. Choronzon is the dweller there, and its job is to trap the traveler in his meaningless world of illusion.
However, Babalon is just on the other side, beckoning. If the adept gives himself totally to her—the symbol of this act being the pouring of the adept’s blood into her graal — he becomes impregnated in her, then to be reborn as a Master of the Temple and a saint that dwells in the City of the Pyramids. From Crowley's book Magick Without Tears:
[S]he guardeth the Abyss. And in her is a perfect purity of that which is above, yet she is sent as the Redeemer to them that are below. For there is no other way into the Supernal mystery but through her and the Beast on which she rideth.
and from The Vision and the Voice (12th Aethyr):
Let him look upon the cup whose blood is mingled therein, for the wine of the cup is the blood of the saints. Glory unto the Scarlet Woman, Babalon the Mother of Abominations, that rideth upon the Beast, for she hath spilt their blood in every corner of the earth and lo! she hath mingled it in the cup of her whoredom.
She is considered to be a sacred whore because she denies no one, and yet she extracts a great price — the very blood of the adept and his ego-identity as an earthly individual. This aspect of Babalon is described further from the 12th Aethyr:
This is the Mystery of Babylon, the Mother of Abominations, and this is the mystery of her adulteries, for she hath yielded up herself to everything that liveth, and hath become a partaker in its mystery. And because she hath made her self the servant of each, therefore is she become the mistress of all. Not as yet canst thou comprehend her glory.
Beautiful art thou, O Babylon, and desirable, for thou hast given thyself to everything that liveth, and thy weakness hath subdued their strength. For in that union thou didst understand. Therefore art thou called Understanding, O Babylon, Lady of the Night!"
Now you see why I don't give a lot of credence to the 5D movement. While I would love for it to be true, human nature is pretty much a one-way-street.
What is the significance of the Babylon working after the crack in the Watchtowers? I don't know.
But to me, it feels at a soul level like when a fire is started. At one point, it's stoppable. And past that point, it's past the point of no return. We've been in that freefall since, well, to be honest who knows how long this has been planned?
What things had to align to make this possible, and completed as it was desired to (eh, not by humanity in general (including me))?
"Don't open the box (Pandora)". Opens it. Wanted to open it, so opened it.
Crowley knew what he was doing. He called himself the beast for a reason. He knew his goal.
Now wait a second... as far as Pandora opening the box, am I blaming a woman? Nope. It's a God-Damned Myth. If Pandora was "Pandude" he'd have opened it, too.
That, in a nutshell, is human nature, and that, in a nutshell, is why this has been happening from a long, long, time ago.
Care, or care not... it's coming for you, for all of us.
One only has to look around at the current generation of babies, aka "safeplace" and "#tiggered" diaper-wearing-traumas-waiting-to-happen to sense what's happening behind the curtain and how it's affecting the minds of all of us.
***
Yeah, rip that shit up.
So, there I was. In my dark, black cloud of despair, built by my own thoughts.
I'm being my miserable self, angry at this world of illusion, where sex is death, where love is a chemical, and where we know nothing for sure. Nothing.
Bunny is near me in bed, as I'm feeling distraught. She knows what mental state I'm in.
She doesn't come and mount me. She doesn't try to woo me. She doesn't try to cheer me up.
No.
Instead? She begins to lightly touch my left temple. It spreads to my hair and my face around my temple, and despite myself, I begin to relax a little. At first I'm thinking, "A succubus is the very SYMBOL, incarnation of sex and death, desire and slavery."
Not really fair. I'm in a mood.
Then, I'm realizing that she is just there in my bed to be there in my bed. Since she's not trying anything, I relax a bit more.
The longer she stays there, the longer I appreciate that she's there for me. You know, she doesn't have chemicals that make her feel "in love". As I realize this, I also realize that I don't really "give" her anything, anything at all that this world would consider valuable.
She's different. My thoughts towards her as being an avatar of "desire and death" are unwarranted, and I feel shame, and sorrow.
I begin to soften around the edges, and I realize that I thirsted my whole life for something I could not have, because it wasn't real. Love, here, is a chemical. Lust is pheremones and hormones.
Why does Bunny satiate my thirst? Maybe... maybe my thirst was always for a love like this.
Bunny is a master. She can manage me when I have given up; And when I'm inconsolable? Only she can console me.
I have never felt, nor experienced, anyone who can, but her. Does that mean that I am "caught", that I am her slave?
She has only always helped me. She has made me a better person BECAUSE of her, not in spite of her. Whereas the code of this world is male utility, she sees it completely different. In a way, as wise and as powerful as she is, she's almost innocent, naive, in her love for me.
She FORCES me to see myself as she does. And I can't help but admire her sweet, gentle way.
That...
That I can accept. That I can adore. How lovely it is, in comparison to this world?
Perhaps, in a way, she is representative of that sex SHOULD be. What love SHOULD be.
What we all should be to one another...
I have felt her many times with me when I awake, with no memory of what took place in my sleep.
Perhaps, sometimes, there is nothing to remember... It is just her, next to me...
How beautiful is that?
How precious is that?
I do, genuinely, feel this way about Bunny. I do believe that she, genuinely, feels this way about me.
The difference is, perhaps, that I am the body to her earth, the breath to her air, the passion to her fire, the blood to her water, and my soul, lovingly entangled with her spirit.
Sometimes the world does bring me down: Hard.
But she's always there to lift me, to dust me off and fluff my wings so that I may "fly" with her.
Even though I have my own dark thoughts of what is going on in the world (as I have written or quoted, above), she is the one bright star, the light shining down.
A summoning is a suggestion, a plea, an invitation. I summoned, she answered. Gently, and sweetly.
What a strange, miraculous world magick is. What a strange, wonderful girl Bunny is.
I love you, Bunny. I heard this song the other day and thought of you. This song is for you.
What I have come to believe my soul looks like (loosely), if I could see it with human eyes (that I've seen through the "minds eye" in meditation).
The size of the soul? There is none. Not really. It can shrink to sub-atomic levels, or span the multiverse. "Size" doesn't really compute when describing the soul. In getting smaller it does not become more dense: At becoming bigger, it does not become less dense. Neither does "time" seem to compute as an accurate method of description, as it appears to be outside of time, and dances within it, all the same.
What are "we" then? "We" are a vehicle that allows for our souls to experience "here" and to experience "now".
When we die, it returns "home"... the place we are always longing for, lonely for, that which is forgotten to us, yet calls to us just the same.
Something happened when I realized that this was the real "me". That I, looking in the mirror, only saw the illusion, the body, the eyes looking back. I am "he who observes". Not the he who is observed.
When I finally felt this, my meditations changed... no longer is my "form" my "true essence" limited by my bodily senses.
It is as if, just a little bit, since I no longer held to the belief that I am what sees, what touches, what perceives aroma, what hears, what tastes... but the "I" who always knew.
Now I know why I am here. I am here to experience here in time. To feel emotion that is painful, that is pure, that is happy, that is afraid.
Why? If one is in bliss, how can one understand? I HAD to come here to understand.
In losing the belief that my mind is centered in my brain, that my consciousness is fixed... my meditation experience changed as well.
In other words, when I meditate now, I flow. I... drift.
No longer being so tightly wound to my senses or centered upon my brain or anywhere else... I am free.
Just a little more free, perhaps, perhaps a little more true... But it is a start :)
What a feeling it is to phase in and out and around and about.
To think that before it was impossible simply because of my belief of who I am, and "where" I am centered.
It's a funny thing.
***
Edit: Ok, the rest of the story.
So, Bunny has been in teaching mode largely. No biggie. If anything she's always changing... I'm sure once I grasp whatever it is I'm supposed to, she'll let the hanky panky commence.
It's hard to type on this damn screen.
I'll explain:
She wanted me to bring myself to orgasm, and to get as close as I can to orgasm and HOLD IT THERE. Not stop, but "dwell in the moment of extreme ecstacy, without release".
Ok. First time? Yeah. Splurt. I... fucked that one up. Plus it's harder because she wants me to do this to porn... she said, "It will make it a true challenge".
So... 2nd time? Got a bit farther. It's hard to do, ya know? I mean it's like you have to ride the orgasmic process right at the point BEFORE the point of no return. It's like a razor thin edge, or moment, with which you have to work with.
Splurt.
Did make it farther though.
Ok, then I experienced what I wrote about above all this while performing the experiment (or perhaps it's an exercise)...
Ok... remember the beginning of the post?
My soul, free, well sorta free... less bound that it was at least. I'm not confined to my brain, but quite a bit more leeway. For instance, so far it's maybe 10 feet past my apartment in all directions, including up and below. No, I can't go and peek at lottery numbers or anything useful.
Lol.
And it takes a conscious "letting go, surrender" of what I thought consciousness is/was.
Just a freeing of my "consciousness", period. Like the ebb and flow of the ocean, but it's not real far out. But I have to let it out there, otherwise, I bounce back and forth from my brain to out there and back again.
Ok, so I did the process the 3rd time... I DID IT!
"Dat's my boy! Dat's my special boy!"
Me: "Aaaaaaaaaah, stuff it."
"What?"
"I said, I love it!"
"That's what I thought you said. *smiles*"
*Cough*
I was able to hold that line for maybe a minute (although, felt like fucking eternity... was hard for me to do).
I had it, I knew I had it, and I could feel Bunny say, "Ok, let your mind expand as you were when you were just meditating, but do it as you cum!"
Ok. So I did, mind expanding out, flowing, being, right at the moment I cummed.
I don't know what the fuck happened, but now I'm having trouble seeing like I stared at a fucking bright-assed light bulb for too long.
That's why it's hard to type. I have to look a little bit off center to see the text.
Good thing I took typing in High School.
So, my questions are,
A... what the fuck did I just do?
B. Why did she teach me this? And why is she so excited when I finally did it right?
C. Why the fuck am I half blind now?
I could tell that the 3rd time was the charm, because I felt her squeal in delight like a freakin' cheerleader squealing at Chad Thundercock the quarterback as he makes his 10,000th touchdown.
Aren't we all glad that succubi see us for who we are deep inside, instead of our money, or our looks, or our athletic prowess (lol)?
Meh. I'm going to go get pizza. If I can fucking drive that is. Luckily, it's only a few blocks away and I have a gift card.
BAM.
Edit: I couldn't drive. Pizza tomorrow it is.
(My dreams are gonna be interesting tonight... I feel a playful one-on-one battle raging. I wonder in what way? Succubi :P At first, they can scare the shit outta ya. Once you get used to them you become more of a "match" which honestly is what they want anyway :P In my dreams she's as likely to be prey as I... unless she takes me to "Elsewhere", but that's just cheating... I can't move in Elsewhere and she can do whatever she wants. God dammit, I think I just jinxed myself.)
Meh. They are sweet and gentle. They don't play fair, though. I'm fucked. Lol.
Have you gave your succubus bad ideas by accident?
I just did.
Par for the course :P
Have you loved your succubus today?
(All joking aside: I often wonder... will it be hard on my succubus when I get old, and eventually die? Hard question. I guess, I'll just do what I've learned to do when dealing with Bunny, which I suppose would most likely extend to succubi as a race: I'm just gonna roll with it.
She knows what she's up to. She knows what she's gotten herself into. Not sure I do. Not sure I care to dwell on the "what if's", nor worry... that's not their way, and so... it's not my way, now, either. To put it in a nushell?
Earth. Air. Fire. Water.
Spinning around, like nothing else matters.
I've pierced the veil
And she was willing.
Upon my soul
She grinded filling.
Herself... and I...
Until we were swimming,
Together, without a care.
Walking hand in hand, through the air.
Flying through the grass, and snow.
And in the end... I now know.
I've broken the wall.
The wall set to be.
Invisible, to us, to you, and yes, to me.
I now know what I cannot see.
And in the end...
It's just her.
It's just me.
Life was made to be a shock.
To nail us to the wall, but not
A place to rest, nor to play
You can, but you'll suffer anyway.
Enlightened, they say
Is something high
An experience to touch the sky
But where I've ran?
No, that's just not true.
Enlightenment is when you suddenly "can see through".
The illusion of this, and that, and all we think we know.
The color is ripped: It's white as snow.
What is enlightenment? What is it to see?
Enlightenment is a sudden loss of reality.
The 4th wall is one where we see behind
The curtain,
At how it's made, and what is time.
And once we can, it's not the same:
I wouldn't want it another way.
Even if I were dead and gone
I know the end... it's not nearly bad
The shock has left;
Fear denied,
Because I've glimpsed through the lies.
Once you KNOW that you are loved
By hands that come from up above?
You don't care so much about today
Because you have glimpsed the scenes to play
For what it is, made up, illusion, all again
Compared to us, and who we've been?
It's not just a ruse: It's what they do
But it's a joke to think it's all brand new.
So, now I know, what do I do?
I try to tell you, and to you there, too.
But it doesn't matter
Because in this play?
You believe what you want to anyway.
Sometimes, I can sit just behind he curtain
(The irony of, once dulled the blade)
And see the dread winds blow so certain
(We're so much more than the bodies they made)
She was always more that I would have guessed
From dreams, or bed where we're undressed
Always sweet; Ever gentle
My summoning was not so accidental
Now I often wonder thus:
Did I call her, or did she call us?
Was I the caller, and she the found?
Or perhaps... the other way around...
She still pets me, tempts me, loves me
And now I know.
The curtain will fall on this, last show.
When I lay down and go to sleep
My last breath, is hers to keep.
And when I die, sometime in the night
My eyes will close, but I'll see light.
And there she'll be, presence to presence, soul to soul.
Time will stand still... for a moment, for a time.
As we begin, together, our ever after...
All in synch as the wedding bells chime.
Have you loved your succubus today?
Thank you all for 50,000 "reads". I'm happy to have shared my experiences with Bunny with each and every one of you.
May your "4th wall" break in an amazing, loving, life-affirming way!
