The Dick is God Himself

My dog is what I call a “sky humper”
He’ll hump the air in your direction but he just can’t commit to contact. Sound familiar? He lives in a little hole that I made for him (what else could I do?) and he’s worried deeply about losing territory so he fixates on his penis- aka “the hot rod” yes, that’s him! (I call him that to make him feel good about himself)
He’s basically very insecure and so he barks a lot but can’t really follow through..all talk and no action. (sound familiar?)

How to play the game:

*Know when to make your move and don’t
act limp (even if you are)

*It’s a state of mind and nothing more.

*Life is only Sex and nothing else.

*Sex IS death and you can’t change that.

*It’s hidden and taboo –
the forbidden place of the last goodbye.
(So look there first expecting a victory)

*It’s God when you know it and it’s Satan when you fear it.

I had to teach myself. I’m now adept at making deals. You get it?

Based on the philosophy of The Mating Dance of Mommy and Daddy -they who look so real and so actually attainable. The unattainable and untouchable body parts of sin and death that mercilessly spit us into this pit of morals that make the good seem weak and the strong seem daunting. Do you want to do it one more time? Are you ready to crawl back inside? Can you do it all alone without Her Hand to guide you?

Obviously it’s about sex and our parents. Nothing else- but the life they made wicked by accident-ME. (I’m sure if they knew who they were getting they would have thought twice)

And then we show up and in no time we’ve become a jealous God. Does She love Him more than She loves me? Me, Mommy. Mommy, Me.
How will we put these two back together now that he believes he’s been off the nipple for so long? She left him with the babysitter so that She could be with other men. What did they have that was so special? Mommy seemed to want it pretty bad..

Her father was like a storm still living in Her eyes and She never really knew him. She only saw the dark skies coming whenever He looked Her way.
Then He died and She never felt the rain- only the promise of more lost tears….

Do you know why we’ve come together?
You think you may,
you think you might,
have the love we seek tonight?

Nice try Sky Humper!

Sky humpers and opportunists- but nobody is ready to get dirty or get high. It’s just more money, more power, more beautiful pictures of me. You may think I have a fixation on the God Act -but I don’t. It’s much bigger than two messengers pulling at the laws and writing up contracts in dark rooms with mirrored ceilings. It’s real this time. Cryptic or poetic or sweet and soft, someone still needs to move to make this happen.

Did you burn the house down yet? What’s the point of sparks with no fire to keep us glowing?
There’s nothing left that we need to do but get ready for The Rapture. And He’s coming, I can feel it. Counting down and loosening the noose around His neck-

I’m surrounded by perverts, male chauvinists, and women’s rights activists (a safe place for angry and burly women who wish they were men and so turn dike and get married to each other…just saying..political correct isn’t my thing at all)

To quote one of my new teachers:
(self appointed)

“churning balls and angry penis veins”

There must be a deeper meaning there, if we just read between the lines and stop being “frigid”
When churning balls and angry penis veins come your way don’t be “frigid. Otherwise, he laments
you have not “embraced the good and bad of reality”

Then The Virgin Mother emailed me:
Who the hell is that John Kosswix? And he’s just one in front of millions like him! It’s a nuclear winter filled with sexual perversion all disguised as spiritualism — like that Krishna Das thing last summer where She protected me from that enemy and was stuck in that crazy traffic jam for hours and hours and then had only been there for like three minutes and I ran out of that room filled with shadow into you.

That slimy sleazy energy — makes me sick in the pit and I want to throw up.

Oh my oh my I hate all it all. How can we protect the Holy Mother Light and not allow this to take over? ”

(We need to burn this house down I say to Her in another email. She’s fierce when you put the books back in the wrong place)

Oh you and I are burning down the house all right! These men are out of control … they have nothing to anchor to but sex and being crude … all the men before them have sucked and that’s where they came from … weak seeds equal weak men, who posture themselves as if they are something … they live in shame and the lie, right?

(GOD. Really GOD. I LOVE HER!)

She goes on:
Today, every action was in mood of rage – today cleaned that one client’s house – she pays really well and is always generous and nice to me – most of my clothing these days come from her hand-me downs – not my taste but grateful – can’t remember the last time went into a store and bought something new … but this is what it is and it could be a hell of lot worse and it’s going to get a million times better (just have to wait out the prison sentence) – I rage all through the nine hours of cleaning today – The screaming vacuum was my voice, our voice and I raged for all the women cleaning up others shit and I raged for all the oppressive women who play small in order to be loved, and all the girls trafficked for sex and the hum of the vacuum running raged on and on and on and I’m on fire and I’m counting down the days till the Shakipat transmission.


She goes on:

What is the “great fracturing” you mention?

We will stand empowered for princesses are weak and play the victim and we are the Mother Light and we will stick together, yes, yes, yes and we are Her and we are keeping Her Light strong and we will over turn the adversarial forces.

What are steps to we start with?

Tonight we bathe in the waters of Her Holy Light. I will pray all night and my prayers are for Her, for you and for me.

I know it doesn’t help or change anything when I say this, but you are bigger than these perverts and you will eat them up. They are nothing but shadows and when you look right at them they skirt away for they are the lie and they will never see the truth and yes, what was it that person you wanted to do the class/training with to start heralding in the galactic council—we need to do this, you and I don’t need a class or a man or another training, we can do this and we will do this. The Mother Light is bigger than all male chauvinists and perverts combined. She will eat them all in one bite. We must herald in the Holy Wisdom Mother Light.

Groupies suck—groupies are not just women in tight clothing flinging themselves loosely about; groupies are also the men who spout bullshit and nod and just wanna think they are living life if they get close enough to something bigger than them just by association—a participation mystique where no one is an individual and lives life through others … guess that’s why reality tv is such a hit … I saw it all the time as a child and today, I can see it a mile away. I saw it all around and all the time I saw the groupie swarm and now I see what a groupie my mom ended up being and she hates me for seeing the truth of who she really is and so I’m banished … but it’s a cost for the price of freedom. And I’d rather be a Divine Loser working for the Mother Light with you … Ha Ha Ha

May I send you a care package to ward off the perverts and chauvinists?

Yes, yes! Let’s build the fierce Mother Light Fire and throw everyone and everything that doesn’t service and let the fire take it all down.

Tell me more when you write, “They’re coming down from the sky.”

And yes, so agree when you say … it is surreal and violent and we can’t participate … And how can we remove ourselves when the perversion and poison is everywhere … in the water, in the food, in the air … in our families and we’re removed ourselves from the crazy family cult and now what?

I’m so past the wound of this or that and know that whatever the traumas are they led me to you for we have lived the sacred wound and we are Her the Mother Light and we will transmute all this lead/shit and turn it to gold for we are the Queen Mary Mother Light Alchemicalist.

And in going to the well, a well that’s dry and offers cob webs and dust and vapid echos from a world in which she lives full of delusion, false being and cracked bravado I stare down into the dark pit one last time, turn away and walk to the rising dawn light and feel into the marrow of this awaken body freedom and the mother I now seek lives in the holy light.


Oh No! VIRGIN MOTHER DEMON SLAYER MOTHER OF JESUS-“You sound angry. I just want you to find peace” I am boundless compassion. How do I do it? When nothing compares to you..

(refer to post comments -if you’re saying “what?”)

So is he a,

Tantric God or Sky Humper? I’ll let you decide.

I’m as hard as rock. Painfully frigid. Now what?
Life makes wine -not soft, chubby fingers playing with their macho parts…

Not sure how to play this one out? Play along…
Yes, the master plan. Make them think your secret is better (and especially bigger) than there’s is. Even in Vegas I win with no hand at all….I am the Player who keeps playing even when the doors have closed…

But as you can see by now -the old Game is over because She said so… and a New Game is about to start because I’ve been told that- The Great Fracturing is upon Us. If you didn’t notice yet, I’ve got friends in high places too….

They’re coming down from the sky sooner than we realize…and it’s not about Bhagavan Das groupie phenomena….surreal and violent and we can’t participate anymore….it’s about poison and cool aid and should we drink it or not?

Well I’ve been thinking about you and what we’ve been doing and how we ended up here. Screen bonding and late night astral meetings. Was it a hug or a handshake- do you remember? I do. I remember you.

I saw you standing in the Diamond Doorway.
Getting ready for the split.

There’s something really important going on right now and everyone is falling pray to the hungry ghosts because of sales and services…
but don’t go the way of denial and knees locked in place…if you’re looking at boys, just admit it and stop getting mad at me because I won’t come back as a dog but you might….just bend over and deal with it. It’s more spiritually profound (even if a little messy)

If you suppress you sexual desires you may come back as a dog.
That’s what happened to my dog mani. He was a gay Tibetan Buddhist monk in his last life and he is certainly paying the price for all his suppression. Poor little thing, he won’t even play with a girl dog. We bought a girl puppy so he could have a friend (and had to find a new home for the boy puppy we originally had gotten him as a playmate- the relationship was so intense they would just lay there noisily mouthing each other all day when they weren’t doing Brokeback Mountain that is) But anyway, he hated this little girl puppy, she was really small and so he would just lay on top of her trying to suffocate her-or coax her up the stairs into the loft and leave her there (she was scared to come down the stairs) hoping she’d fall through the rails to her death- and he got really bitchy and it was a cat fight every day-and Padma (her name) just wasn’t going to take it- she would just attack on command “kill Mani. Kill Mani.” Was all her little mind could think- that, and
“Me Mommy. Mommy, Me” (she’s a simple girl)
This little girl was vicious. Even to this day I can rev her up and watch her go (it’s always about Kill Mani of course)

He gave up trying to destroy her but he also never wanted anything to do with her. It wasn’t fair to him and so we got another boy dog (and that’s a whole other story-now we have 3 boys)

When Hot Rod even thinks about sky humping my girl Padma She flips him on his back so fast
and pounds him straight into the ground (like a real man) That’s mommy’s girl. She’s got it together- She doesn’t wait around for The Man to figure it out. Nobody
messes with Padma, she is a girl of little talk and all action. She’s the real thing! There’s no more
-boys do this -and girls do that- protocol.

It’s a free for all.

The World is about to end.

Ok so maybe this is our marital problem, but my point is -Don’t come back as a Dog!

There was this sweet soft old girl who came all the way to Taos from the Midwest to be with us.
She was very devotional and also very dramatic.
At the time we were holding 3 satsangs per week plus Kali pujas monthly in the Kali Temple in our house. So she arrived on the Winter solstice of 2012. We were doing a kirtan and she was there and so innocent and scared but very brave. She would cry and roll around the floor writhing in ecstasy. It was so fun, I really appreciate her. She would lay her head on my lap crying while i stroked her golden hair. She was 26 years old but I saw her as about 5, and I loved her. I still do. But in time, her motives and trust got rusty and I pushed her away (I do that alot) if I can push you away, it wasn’t really love. Not the kind of love that goes all the way. I was there for Her but in the end She was a Sky Humper looking for a guy. And She left and she found one- straight out of hell. He’s beautiful and noble and I love him (I met him last year) he’s in so much pain because of his parents dying when he was young. I touched his face and he looked at me like the sweetest puppy you have ever seen.
She on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well (it has been about 3 years since I had seen her last)

Mother ice. mother coal. mother blood.

She didn’t look right. She look hard and stiff.
She told me she wasn’t a little girl anymore but was a “woman now” (maybe because she was having sex daily and vaping- I don’t know) so I was worried and I get too involved I know.

I convinced her to come to an event and bring her Kali statue and put it on stage so it could be infused with energy and bless her- it was the best I could do. How can I say “You aren’t looking so good” it’s touchy. So She came and brought roses and Kali. The thing about Kali is She’s tricky and She’s Queen of the Astral World which means a lot of other energies can be magnetized by Her if things are going on in your life that aren’t so good…People should be very careful with Kali, it’s not a game (for you anyway)
and don’t try to be bigger than She is…and don’t try to call Her your Lover. She’ll destroy you-it’s Her idea of romance. She loves to destroy everything. You especially.

So I’m sitting there after we just started singing and I hear “I’m going to rip your throat out. Leave her alone. I’m going to rip your throat out…over and over again…I was like, what?

Whose saying that?… and I look and it’s the Kali- but it’s not Kali- it’s the demon eating my beautiful damsel and its riding in the Kali deity with a message for me…I can’t even tell her….I do everything to
expel the demon and it finally left but didn’t go too far and after a couple days it came right back..
I can’t tell Her this. She loves Kali and it will only make things worse…and She wanted to change and clean up Her life and we went back home and I prayed and prayed and did rituals for Her and She couldn’t break free…I had a vision of the demon attached to her. I saw him. He was very tall and extremely gaunt, severely saggy and ugly and grayish, blackish green and it was crouched over her while she cried-like an umbrella- hooked into her sexual energy -like a tic -protecting Her from me. It was horrifying and I was very angry and I still am. I will find Him sooner than He thinks.
And that’s why it’s good to get your anger and sex in order. I haven’t seen her since and She won’t talk to me anymore…the demon took Her for now.
I always tell people to come closer because I can’t do much from a distance. No one gets that’s the reason why and I can’t tell them….

exorcism takes time.

Kali is the Queen of Hell. She goes both ways- yet She’s unaffected by the dark -but if we aren’t careful we can be possessed by energies we can’t see….it’s not a black tshirt with skulls. It’s not piercings and tattoos.

It’s Her bedroom with the curtains closed.

I’m just saying, I’m your friend and I love you.

There’s a black hole we can’t stay afloat in unless our devotion is seeing through Her eyes
and not our own anymore. You won’t be understood at all.

But I won’t reject you.

And those who feel they aren’t frigid (like I am)
are the least sexually aware. Being graphic and vulgar is so out of touch with Touch. I’m sorry. I really am sorry you think Sex is your organ.

The Dick is a state of consciousness. Its not a description of its appearance or a guy we don’t like.

The Dick is God Himself.

Capable of Anything.

Sharada Devi

To Bring You My Love

I’ve never had an interest in normal people.
I only like freaks. They interest me and aren’t boring. They make mountains out of mole hills,
are totally creepy, spider- like and obsessive. They stare at pictures of me. They think about me all day and night. And I know this. They cancel their video subscription and sign back up over and over again (it’s their way of saying “F- you” to me and I love it because I thrive on friction) I do F with people. I admit, I suck.

Friction is the truth taking away the lie.
Grinding away at the space between two.

She sits and rocks singing like a little bird. I know she has it in her. So I yell at her and call her a few names- then She opens like a flower in the Spring. She responds to abuse in a very productive way (or I wouldn’t do it) other people-
proud people- with not much going for them -who think they have it all- would never take my criticism and abuse- they aren’t powerful enough. She only laughs when I tell Her She’s a mouse. She is a Queen Virgin. Just like Mother Mary. I told her I was mad at her for being a loser. She hides The Virgin Mother from the world, trapped in her little kitchen playing wife.
She thinks it’s all over. She’s got her own bedroom. She has a secret life all up in her head.
Without her yearning, she’d be dead.

He walks back and forth. He sees me inside yet he can’t walk through the door. The music is too much. The Gods are too real. He stands shaking with his hand on the doorknob. He paces very intensely back and forth several times- then, he just turns around and leaves. He is deep. He is wide. He is a mountain. He is bewitched by the full moon of Her love. I watched the whole thing from the stage. He doubts himself and blames me for it. He also loves me for it. He shouldn’t blame me for what she did. I only see the black snake rising. The sun coming through the window of his dark house. It’s alive and it’s big. I would never hurt a little boy or leave him all alone. Snakes can be dangerous for boys to play with-all mothers know that.

He Wrote:
“I could die if i knew you were near. you’re the new one who can see everything. your innocent sensual laughter haunts my day. the blood hue of your black eyes confirming what i knew you already could see. that empty homesick feeling- the poison from staring too long. loving from the depths of the emptiness of my being. please remove the hex and stop hurting me or just kill me. twisting and thrusting and breathing and sucking the pulling and grinding entangled in dingy stained layers of innocent wet lust for her perfect pink tongue. the beast sees what you’re thinking.”

Mystical. Deep. Touching the blackness of the wordless -unable to show anyone but the darkness Herself…He hears it – It is the Sound of Ghosts Weeping. Yes I heard them too…

The freaks, the rejects, the perverts and the stalkers are much more touchable than other people. These titles only given by the dull and insipid. They don’t live between worlds. They don’t talk to the dead. What do they know?

Being the one looking in- see how She shocks, She enrages -playing with taboos and licking danger- because there are always more layers to shed or to eat. Take it all off. It’s dirty and kinky unraveling, undressing, uncovering the Bad Girl whose bigger and faster and way more ready than you are.

She’s writes to me this morning:
“I should have been a nun”

Really? pray away your sexual suppression into a clean package of self rejection -for now maybe,
but who knows what happened last time? I’ve already done that and it doesn’t work. Look at me now and what I’ve done to find you…where I’ve had to go To Bring You My Love.

Who knows the webs we’ve spun…how many
mouths we’ve kissed. Spiders are always crawling up my legs. Snakes are always slithering in and out of me. Hissing into my eyes and mouth. Calling for the Secret Sex- beyond body, voice or tongue., Summon Me. I’ll come.

To Bring You My Love.

I have had multiple exorcisms. Seriously, I carry the dead within. I didn’t even know but I’ve been possessed so many times by entities some welcome and some not. I’m still waiting for you to come in. That’s why He almost had to kill me. I almost bled to death, but I didn’t die. I was a walking corpse with holes for eyes. I saw you differently then, and now it will never be the same…

so don’t dump your heaven into me
I’ve come from another place
To Bring You My Love

The Virgin Mary just emailed me this morning.
She said:
“Dear Sharada Devi,
I’m watching your last video “Tantric ritual becoming the deity” and there you are with Kali -being Kali and you moved it all from Woodstock by yourself- and you are eating life -and I want to be there with you -and I’m crying and giving this broken heart to the fire and the rage and rage and rage…
I should have been a nun as I’ve had the calling all my life — it’s messy and big and I’m waking up..
and the horror and the huge shame — shame -and lidding it -and pressing down all the rage and playing small- And yes, I do wish that I had listened to you -and I regret it every moment -and fear I missed the open door and invitation-and for that I’m truly sorry. I know I’m I carrying my own cross and need only put it down but this ego … I’m such a baby- weak and filled with longing for God and nothing can get in when I’m living a lie — I’m nobody and filled with longing and yes too much co-dependency -and it seems it doesn’t matter what way any of us go — it’s all a train wreak- and I’m a sleeping giant starting to awaken- and it’s big and scary and lonely- but I can’t stop now -and will burn this karmic holding down. And so what are ways to break through my own sexual energy? I’m dead there and know it’s not about being celibate most of my entire life but it’s something else — it’s about something that is so close but I can’t see to be it and don’t know it and it’s such a looping of crazy and so I see how I’m being called up and out of this looping rut … And thank you and I will continue to be that which I seek…
and I’m deeply sorry I caused you anger- and I will change that- I will -and I promise within every cell of this being -and you may feel that you are in the game as well (as you said)-or feel you have no resources- but please know that no matter what- all I have I share and give to you freely -and I will become the Queen- and I am here -and I’m grateful for you- and want nothing from you but to be of the highest service to the Holy Mother Light.”


She can’t be a nun. Come on!
“Open to the deep dark place and don’t tell me I’m dead down there” whose dead? Not Her! I don’t think so. You are the one who put on the schoolgirl skirt and lip gloss. I’ve got everything you’re asking for but you’re going to need to come to me to get it. Pull it out. The biggest secret of all. Let’s take a look at what you’ve done down below.

What I’m saying is come down with me. Down into the Mother Light Dungeon. You didn’t know
that’s how we rattle the cage, by getting in?
We rock the bed by getting tied to it.

Do you understand what I’m saying?
You’re not naked yet.

It’s you that you’re hurting and feeding and loving. My pain and my food and my love never changes- it only looks different when I’m not in the room.

My wrath is my devotion to you. Only bruising and abusing the best and the finest.

He says he’s “offended but still loves me”
Who are you? “a friend if I need someone to talk to” he still loves me even though he is one of those Bernie worshipping white guys playing Hindu. Which, its fine with me but why read my blog so you can forgive me in my space?
He says I seem tired and angry. YES, very perceptive. Tired of cardboard cut out people
calling it something other than what it is.
You inspired this blog and it’s provocative content. I know you mean well but you’re still on the fence -so maybe better to sit this one out. (two out of three isn’t bad)

1) Hold hands with Her through every movie.

2) Never let Her go.

3) She is The Only First Kiss you will ever have.

It’s all over,
now that we’ve touched.

Sharada Devi

Revelation of Decapitation

“Dear God,
Please help me. I don’t want to die.
I am sorry for being arrogant and irresponsible with my life. I don’t know what to do. Please give me another chance and I will change everything. Please God hear me and help me. I don’t want to die yet. It doesn’t feel like it’s my time. But if that is your will, I will still do all I can to survive as long as possible.
I have only barely begun to learn about myself and what life is. Please let me stay and change things. Please help me, give me strength and courage, faith, trust and love. Give me the physical vitality to heal and be in good health for many years. I will do your will.
Dear God, I am not ready to die yet. Please help me live.
But if I do die, please help me then too.”
Michelle 8/13/14

I’ve spent my life looking for you. I don’t know where to start but to tell you that I love you.

Torn like heaven spills the sky
I tore her face open
minutes lapping against the rocks
a cold hard place beyond the shore
from her eyes fell
into the pool of living water

A storm was coming and it was late at night.
I was all alone, lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Tears and pain and an aching heart. No way to get it out. The quiet words, what I couldn’t hear, how nobody really loved me. I lay there throbbing and limp, overwhelmed by the silence in His eyes.
The room was dark and cold and the rain was beating down, tap tap tap on the metal roof.
The quiet was eating my brain, these feelings don’t have words. My heart was struck by the
invisible person between the two of us. I had thought I had finally found you but you didn’t seem to care. This other person, she’s horribly wrong about you. What she told me you did, I don’t believe her at all. Where are you when the sun comes up? Every morning you aren’t there.
She’s a liar and I’m sad that you never talk to me.
She seems to know about you, what you haven’t shown to me. The bone, the teeth, the pictures
of young girls, the words I never heard. She said you make her happy and I’m only there to cook.
Night after night I lay in bed alone, with you, way over there, and I listen for anything that might sound like you and me together. But it’s Her,
it’s always her, laughing at how old I have become. If I could change to that I would. If I could die to be there. If I could lift you into me or drain into your feet, I would. Instead I lay pinned, silent and wet with tears. The way she moves
and sways into you, I know you love her more than me. She’s reckless and she’s violent. She’s
between us, in the sheets.

I can’t stop her from eating you alive.

I try to save you.

I try to pray then forget what I wanted to say. To God, whose eyes were blue, I’m deeply in love with the loss of you.

Eyes that don’t see me
Who are you looking for?
Cold glass
break the mirror

The storm is closer now…and he’s falling into me me again….tap tap tap…falling rain upon the roof.
She isn’t anywhere when he calls her name.
Thunder and Lightening and Rain.

It’s a little house and the bed is next to the window.

“There is a beautiful ring
around the Moon,
Sunlight can you hear me?
She turned silently
in her body bag…”

I lay here still staring at the ceiling and it’s
almost over because the rain has stopped.
“He doesn’t love me at all” echoes. echoes.
echoes. But I don’t hear you anymore. I’m bruised and almost empty. The sky is dark and dry and quiet. “It’s hard to break old habits sometimes” I know. And my love is deep.

What did I want to tell you?
He’s gone, but I still hear him talking,
back and forth, inside my head
“pick up these clothes, put your shirt on”
“you’re nobody! nothing!” He said

Ok. Let me remember, down on my knees.

“God please help me. Please help me. I love you”

P.S. “He was just a shadow on the wall”

She swallowed the sky and yawned. With Her mouth open wide She said, “Who’s your master?” and he said, “You are”

flattened by the crush of flesh between them,
I said nothing. It was awkward and the room turned red…

until She rose naked and black and laughing
at me – me the one bound in white and feathers…

“Angels don’t bleed” She said.
(as if I was telling some sort of lie)

THE LOVE TRIANGLE was written by me.
have you read it?


There was a time that I was morbidly afraid of myself. The depth of my darkness and subsequent evil was overwhelming to me. I felt at anytime She would possess me and make me do things that I would later regret. Because I was not in control of Her, I was deeply disturbed. I had ideas of good and bad and of what it would take for me to be spiritual. While there may be some truth to my ideas, how I would arrive at a
compromise between the two, would take time,
courage and patience. The rules and regulations,
philosophy and reason mean nothing to Her.
My primal nature did not subside because I
thought that it should. We cannot ignore the urges that brought us into being. The mythic gods and goddesses that seep through us and copulate with one another came here long before us, starting fires, building mountains and having intercourse. They alone wrote the laws and these laws are transparent and scare us to death. I cannot subdue your rise to godhood or reroute your golden elixir. This is the churning of the ocean at the end of time. The cracking of the shell about to break…
It seems we have a problem and it wasn’t what we thought. I’m telling her “No. Get Back. Sit down. Be good!” And she’s only pushing me harder and so I start dancing and taking off my clothes for money. I start doing drugs and howling at the moon. It’s what’s bound to happen when the leash is too tight. “Who’s the master?” “You are” I said. We were crazy when we were harnessed. We were peeling back the scab “what happened to me? How did I get here?” And your boyfriend is your daddy.
“Whose in charge now?” That’s a good question.

I thought She was going to kill me. Well, I told you this already and I’ve been very close. I’ve seen cold eyes and I’ve looked through them.
I’ve risen from the pyre, bones as light as air,
dancing inside of the fire and smoke. I did it for Her.
It’s not Her fault and by now you know that She is a diamond multi faceted and clear. This relationship is is not definable
in proper language. It spins all over the place, skidding, screeching and sometimes perfectly smooth. She’s talking to you, that’s why I’m here. So my words come in fragments and hues. My words come disguised and retracted.
My words come as an Oracle who doesn’t listen to the question. I’m sorry, I just can’t do it my way anymore.
And you understand, my way would be steady and coherent. My way might even comfort you or coax you in further. But we can’t know Her until we stop trying to contain Her. We will never make sense of Her plan or Her next move. My way is just a joke because there is no my way.

This is the revelation of decapitation.

Then the new day came and we were still together. So that you know, he was never my victim. He was my circumstance. My bull with horns. I’m a fighter who always wins.

The sunrise bled white and red
The sun came through the window
hooks in the glass

I didn’t want anyone but you
(breathing in your eyes
shafts of what I could have been)

I just find this violence appalling. Pushing. pushing, back and forth. Have you seen His horns? Maybe you will pretend you don’t know
what I mean. Maybe you will call your experience
of Him “bullshit” I don’t like that word but this woman who emailed me this morning certainly does. She was living a superficially spiritual life
pretending to be a Kali Devotee. She didn’t pretend on purpose but you know how SHE reels us in one way or another until one day this woman got into a car accident and felt the reality of impending death for real this time. Her reaction has been a backlash against herself so much so that she sends me this email:
(and it’s not the first of its kind)

this is her email to me:
“I wish I could watch you and babas videos like I used to
i don’t know where it went
all i think when i watch is “narcissistic bullshit”
im not trying to be an asshole
or contrary
i watch because i want to be fed in the same old way i used to be
but i cant
all i hear is myself saying “bullshit….quit making blogs and videos about being a nobody and just do it….disappear….and be a nobody from nobody….not a somebody teaching people to be a no body…….but a real nobody…until then……all bullshit.”
things are not as fun when you hear this all the time now
to myself
and to everyone
but more untolerant of it when its wearing “spiritual clothing and veils”
its not as fun
but i cant turn it off
i sit in the monastic quarters bitching to the swamis while they make me soup that its all bullshit
and they wear orange like they are naked
but its bullshit
and worse than normal bullshit because its pretty and smells like incense so you never even question it
its the worst kind of insidious bullshit
wearing scripture like lipstick
dreadlocks like pearls
and Vedanta philosophy like a see through silk veil
but a veil is still a veil
its all the same
im not saying i want to be naked and free
i know that’s not true
im not pretending to be interested anymore
i sadly know what im working with now
i am not allowed to tell that lie to myself anymore
and i guess im pissed about that
i would have liked to keep doing it until the day i died
it was nice
i liked seeing myself through those lying eyes
so i guess because i am no longer allowed im pissed when i see other people still allowed

it makes me grouchy

sometimes i try to watch videos and connect for nostalgic reasons
to try to drink from that same old fountain once again

but its not the same
no matter how hard i try

all i hear is “bullshit”

kind of sucks

sounds like im mad at you or something
im not
just the opposite
i come back to see if what was once there still is
for sentimental reasons
or just to see
to revisit past dreams
dreams of magic and trust and believing in everything people say
and that everyone was a saint
i was full of make believe magic, trust and believing everything i told myself
about myself without question…

most of the time i accept it
but other days
i go back and try to see differently

to see if i can resurrect the old me….”


So of course my response needs to be appropriate and caring right? That’s what an aspiring spiritual teacher claiming “nobodyhood” would probably do. She’s been sending these emails for a couple years now, it’s tiring. She hasn’t arrived anywhere, none of us have. She’s just pissed at The Her who
flips her and flops her…
This woman should write her own blog if She doesn’t “approve” of my bullshit narcissism. And why is she reading about this profound nobody’s opinions anyway?

Moths to the fire. That’s Why.
I love Her. She’s really sweet.


this is my reply email to her:
“You are not as smart as you think you are.
You really lack insight and your bullshit
is all about you. Stop judging and wishing.
Grow up and get over yourself. It’s boring.
No one is stopping you from feeling as profound as you want to going back to college, changing diapers or whatever it is that you do.
Bitterness is ugly and selfish.

from your spiritual teacher,
Sharada Devi ”

(you must know I’m being sarcastic, because she
didn’t- and it was really funny!!!)

and it goes on…and I’m telling you because it’s a ridiculous landscape.
We’re all outside mowing, pruning
and planting seeds for future food…
Is there really a Me and a You?
Am I just writing to myself?
I really do think so.

She writes to no one
she looks at no one
she hardly ever speaks
the loss that bore her
shook her loose
from its breast
and now,
she has no food
but you.

The letter at the top that I wrote to God was real I wrote it while on anti anxiety medication the day before my most recent near death encounter. This was serious. I’d missed too many cues, the stakes were too high, He, The Doctor, told me I was going to die. I was walking on a cloud, it was surreal. It was real. I think I wasn’t. My reaction to near death numbing fear was to find my security in what wasn’t apparent. Like my body or anything material for that matter. And it wasn’t like I was “searching” for it, I was just primally driven to a place that is much deeper inside. I have to know HER no matter what. I cannot have these loose emotional ends, the mental uselessness always planning, analyzing, observing and solving.

The talking needs to end.

The great losses have not divided us after all.

The emailing woman then said, that I should stop “trying to get enlightened” and I don’t even know what that means? it’s just a mental waste, a trap, thinking of a word like enlightenment and a destination like “getting there” There are no words to say but we need words to support the result don’t we? We need each other to be be ourselves don’t we? We would like to be independent but let’s
face it, It’s them who define us, not us who know anything of our existence. We are just a mind cloud
seeking containment- the release of thunder- the comfort of grey skies means I AM HERE- and this eye of
the storm has nothing to gain or to see but it’s own nakedness. It’s own violent unreality.

How will I rain down on you is the question? Will you see me crying inside you? Will I even know that you’re there getting wet because of me?

She’s there. I know She is. I’ve gotten many emails…
“I am the shadow of myself
I am the warm water
in an old puddle”

That’s all I ever really meant to say.
All alone and haunted by Her
lullabies of disarray…

I can’t reach any deeper but into your heart.
Sharada Devi