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Four Black Bars' Journal
 
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Below are the 5 most recent journal entries recorded in Four Black Bars' LiveJournal:

    Wednesday, October 10th, 2012
    11:25 pm
    Magnetic fingertips
    Im not spiritual but Im very superstitious. I constantly see and seek omens, portents, and the clues of the passing providence of the universes pattern. Maybe its like seeing shapes in static.

    My mother believed in telekinesis and precognition. She told me once that she could, as a teenager, move the buttons in a elevator and see more than mere glimpses of things to come. But that she stopped and, while she didnt say it exactly, that she burnt it out of her capacity when she had a vision of her grandfather Bernard dead in the horrid repose he was actually found in after his passing.

    She never was showy and creative the way I am on occasion not being the one to seek the attention of strangers. Actively avoiding it. Conformist and conforming blending in but having a very dark humor that Mary kept very secret.

    I wonder now if she really did possess the imagination I imagine I have and use in my daily life. Did this strange grinding drove her to imagine her powers as real as I imagine the world that I live in? Where static shows real shapes and the passing glance is the track of the tracking world. The shift of the wind is the sign of good or ill or the first word sound and smell will give me insight to the days proficiency.

    I dont tell people about the important dates in my life because I want to watch them unfold like the viscera and blood on an alter. In their clotted lumps and sticky clumps I'll divine my fortune for the next year.

    I think she the possessed a similarity powerful id and eros but that to her it was moving objects and animosities so intestine it gave her hallucinations of her darkest terrors when she flexed it.

    I make humor. Try to. My mother saw her grandfather dead. I dont wonder if either one of us is supernatural. But I know she believed she was. And that she stopped using her power when it showed her just what she asked for: How is Grandpa Pate.

    Dead. Dead. And dead.

    (get one)

    Monday, September 17th, 2012
    1:19 am
    Deep radiation echos

    Sometime I want to send you an email while I know I'll never hear back sometimes whispering into the well feels good.

    Ive done good with what you left me. Turned a profit and invested well. I see the green numbers and the cranky jerks and juts of stock numbers going up but take little pleasure at it. Im just tiring to be a good steward of your legacy. It's all I have left and I get sick with terror of losing it.

    Thank you for being my mother and giving me so much. I wish you could have lived longer because you were so happy before you died.

    Thank you for loving me and holding me when I was a child. And for giving me a chance to choose my life and build it.

    But I do miss you and think about you everyday.

    Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

    (get one)

    Thursday, September 13th, 2012
    2:06 am
    440 hz
    I was sleeping in the ICU or maybe I was awake and sliding between. I saw a deep blue sky over a greenest green hill lightly torn whitest of cotton white ribbon clouds in the middle long distance. A huge and heavy oak just below the crest and a long line of people waiting to receive me.

    Children I played little league with, a astrophysicist named Bruce I met in high school, shop clerks, women and girls, old men I met as a child who must have long since passed on, all in a long friendly line with that almost too vivid color of a high contrast photograph.  All smiling all familiar and waiting for me to walk past them as I made my way down a light brown path.

    It was everyone I had ever in my life and they were greeting me. Waiting for me. A moment I knew what was happening then the scene sifted away and I was in the gray room with the monitors metering my life and the silent lumps of the other patients dimly visible. Where I was now could not be farther away from where I had just been.

    That was the only spiritual feeling moment Ive ever had in my life.  I dont think of it often but sometimes long for it when I do.

    (get one)

    Monday, January 3rd, 2011
    1:16 am
    The Long March to a Near Desintation
    Oh city soon to be far again I see you but recognize your differences more than your sames after the so many years.  I have changed, you've changed, and, perhaps, her.  Frankly Ive no idea what near or far land mental or corporeal tract shes taken to like a shape shifting slow change Kelpie. The photos Ive seen in not too accidental passing seem happy and hale.

    But I didnt think about you until I returned to my home. And it was a first. No longer my alpha and omega of both the positive and the ill; I bid thee well, but not too well, but well enough.

    (get one)

    Wednesday, March 24th, 2004
    2:16 am
    Point Loma
    I can see it.

    Your hand in mine as we look out over the Pacific. The wind pulls at your hair as fingers brush a wayward strand from your mouth. I can see you clutching my arm as I look down and out over the greenly black sea, I feel my face harden looking into the sun and my heart thickly as I look down into your upturned eyes those brown eyes, eyes of Hera, watching me.

    Together, west, we watch the fading world.

    Kiss me
    Kiss me and pull me towards the deepening night
    Kiss me and Ill live and go quietly into the sea
    Kiss me and Ill draw you past the obsidian walls into my heart and there you will live in the Palestine of my dreams soul creation.

    I didnt want to
    I didnt want to say these things
    I never wanted to show
    my hopes to anyone
    I was afraid
    that If I gave them words...

    if you had -
    oh man

    ...they would go away
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