Roady @Roady_Dragonfae@awoo.space

It's playing again...

Of course. As I'm sitting here having dinner at Luna Park Cafe, Puff the Magic Dragon starts playing as soon as I made this post. Gee! That's not synchronistic at all!

I reached that point in my spiritual development where high stress, nausea, lightheadedness, an 11 hour shift, and multiple psychotic episodes resulted in breaking through to the possibility that I'm just walking in place while the entire world moves around me...

Perception is an illusion and everything is moving towards me instead of me moving towards it.

Driving a car is equivalent to the Back to the Future ride...

Alrighty. Got some good ambient cyberpunk music to chill back to. Let's get the ink flowing!

If any of you wanna come visit, I'll be at Super Genius Tattoo on Capitol Hill.

To put things in perspective, I made this observation after going to When Furballs Strike for the first time in a year and met a guy sitting next to me at the after dinner who had this vibe about him.

I could tell the guy was what I would call a "toxic empath." A passive yet enabling wet noodle who dragged others down in a manner akin to the assholes they blindly follow. Anything positive I tried to talk about was slapped around.

A convo with him was like talking to an 8th grader from the mid 90s. He made fun of black people, but got all defensive when I called Ferrari owners douchebags.

Just because someone is an empath doesn't mean they're automatically a good person.

A people pleaser with no concept of boundaries can easily enable and excuse an asshole's behavior instead of holding them accountable.

I paid a premium to visit this Westworld attraction known as 21st century earth, and I'm gonna make sure my time here is well spent. I'm here to chew bubble gum and kicks ass, and I'm all out of bubble gum.

Once you open up to how everything can alter your consciousness, you find yourself revisiting what once sparked a sense of happiness.

When was the last time you rode on a swing set? Or a merry go round? Their repetitive motions bring back that lost state of meditative bliss...

I can't help but blush whenever someone affectionately calls me a dragoness.

I've taken an active role in buzzing out the little voice in my head that reads words aloud when I look at a sign. Either that, or forcing it to repeat those words again and again until it sounds like any other noise. Like a mantra.

Magical scribbles, people. That's all they are. Magical mind control scribbles.

Walking through SouthCenter mall and the surrounding consumerville known as Tukwila is good practice for this.

It's level grinding against a bombardment of capitalist egregores trying to invade your space and influence you to buy shit you don't need.

Spend enough time silencing that little voice that automatically sounds out words in your head, and soon enough? Every sign and logo in the mall starts looking as garbled as a QR code...

Taking a step back and observing egregores, I'm becoming rather fascinated by their workings.

As I was strolling through the mall today I saw many of these entities of varying colors and styles.

All of a sudden, I see a giant white apple bordered by monolithic metal pillars and where I used to acknowledge that it was just another Apple store...Looking at it now...It's superimposing.

Steve Jobs is long gone, but this entity he helped create is still ongoing and evergrowing.

That's an example of egregores of the capitalist variety.

There are positive egregores that can manifest, however they are rather tough to find in this society.

Especially in Seattle where you see the eldritch abomination of Amazon consuming the city while privileged yuppies are blissfully unaware that they are the drooling, mindless cells of a larger body.

I keep thinking of Legion from Castlevania...

A mind is a terrible thing to be controlled by.

That's why I'm thankful I lost it.

Okay, I didn't really lose it as much as I knocked it the fuck out, dragged it through the mud, and held it over a cliff until it gave into my demands. Exactly what you would love to do if you were stuck with an abusive boyfriend you can't leave. Because that's what anxiety is.

Anxiety was an abusive relationship where the cold, materialist functions of my head would oppress the authentic nature of my heart. At the end of the day I couldn't expect other people to save me from it, so I took matters into my own hands. Using the tools I was given and the doors that had opened.

It happened again. A total disconnect from the English language.

Did you know that staring at a sign for a long period of time is analogous to repeating the same word over and over again? It dissolves into mere gibberish and for a moment you feel like the language you grew up with is completely foreign. I couldn't tell the difference between the turn arrow and the symbolic squiggles of O, N, L, and Y.

How's that for taking a step outside your mind?