Matrix 4

If everything dies and changes, then what is really true? – Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Neo’s voice [narration]: We all have to die one day. Just some of us sooner than others.

The darkness begins to dissipate as we see the reflection of the sun on asphalt still wet from a cold rain. Dead leaves skitter across the street and we hear Neo’s footsteps before we see him. He is walking with his hands in his pockets, looking down. Lost in thought.

NN: Why did I love her? Loving her, made me a wide open target for THIS. This feeling, of looking down into an infinite abyss, with no one to stop me from falling. All I know is that if I went back and had to choose again, I would still choose love.

Fade to black and fade in

Interior, pot trimming operation in Humboldt County. Rainbow-type denizens with Wookie clothes and dreadlocks are trimming buds from marijuana branches piled on a long table. The vibe is very harmonious, with smiles on everyone’s faces, yet there is a sickening submissiveness in the trimmers’ demeanor. We see that their brightly colored, festie clothing is worn and dirty at the hems and pockets. Some of them are clearly overeating from stress, while the same anxiety is causing others not to eat at all, their sunken collar bones and eye sockets making them look hungry and empty.

ORION, a balding, elf-like man with bright blue eyes and a long red beard, looks over at ALICIA, a tall, placid, Hispanic woman with big eyes and long dark wavy hair, with a twinkle in his eye.

ORION: Have you gotten to know your new housemates yet?

ALICIA is glowing with pleasure at the attention.

ALICIA: Yes! Thank you for helping me move. Everyone is being so kind to me there. I feel so thankful.

ORION grins and they lock eyes for a long moment.

ORION: Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? Nai`a and Damien told me I could take tomorrow off.

ALICIA: Sure! Sure! That sounds great! I would love to.

CUT TO: NAI`A, a beautiful Polynesian woman with cat eye makeup and tight, seductive clothing on. She is watching ORION and ALICIA flirting on a surveillance video on a computer screen. She presses her lips together in a contemptuous, cunning smirk.

CUT TO: Exterior, it’s dark outside and ORION lets the screen door bang shut behind him. He takes out his phone and the eerie glow casts a pallid, bluish green light on his face. He is just beginning to focus on the phone, when NAI`A comes up behind him and gives his arm a friendly, playful squeeze.

NAI`A: Hey!

ORION: Oh, hey!

NAI`A: Did you have a good day today?

NAI`A is moving closer, in calculated moves, like a cat hunting a mouse.

ORION: Yeah! Yeah, I did. Hey, thanks for giving me tomorrow off.

NAI`A pushes up against him and he backs up, only to hit the wall of the grow house. She slides her arms under his, palms pressing agains the wall, boxing him in.

NAI`A: Yeah, that was pretty generous of me, wasn’t it?

ORION starts laughing uncomfortably, clearly he is attracted to NAI`A, and he is also somewhat intimidated.

As NAI`A puts her face close to ORION’s, she is looking him directly in the eyes as she leans in to kiss. FADE OUT.

CUT TO: The next day, interior of ORION’S apartment. It is cluttered, with empty food packages and unwashed dishes and laundry strewn about. ORION is on the phone with ALICIA.

ORION: NO, no, I really DID want to have dinner with you tonight, it’s just, something came up. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Take a rain check.

ALICIA has clearly hung up, and ORION is on the verge of weeping out loud, as he hangs up the phone and runs his hands through his sparse hair, pulling it.

ORION: Jesus!

Tears spill out of his eyes as he throws the phone down and collapses on the sofa in a ball.

ORION: Neo…where ARE you?

FADE OUT

If everything dies and changes, then what is really true? – Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Neo’s voice [narration]: We all have to die one day. Just some of us sooner than others.

The darkness begins to dissipate as we see the reflection of the sun on asphalt still wet from a cold rain. Dead leaves skitter across the street and we hear Neo’s footsteps before we see him. He is walking with his hands in his pockets, looking down. Lost in thought.

NN: Why did I love her? Loving her, made me a wide open target for THIS. This feeling, of looking down into an infinite abyss, with no one to stop me from falling. All I know is that if I went back and had to choose again, I would still choose love.

Fade to black and fade in

Interior, pot trimming operation in Humboldt County. Rainbow-type denizens with Wookie clothes and dreadlocks are trimming buds from marijuana branches piled on a long table. The vibe is very harmonious, with smiles on everyone’s faces, yet there is a sickening submissiveness in the trimmers’ demeanor. We see that their brightly colored, festie clothing is worn and dirty at the hems and pockets. Some of them are clearly overeating from stress, while the same anxiety is causing others not to eat at all, their sunken collar bones and eye sockets making them look hungry and empty.

ORION, a balding, elf-like man with bright blue eyes and a long red beard, looks over at ALICIA, a tall, placid, Hispanic woman with big eyes and long dark wavy hair, with a twinkle in his eye.

ORION: Have you gotten to know your new housemates yet?

ALICIA is glowing with pleasure at the attention.

ALICIA: Yes! Thank you for helping me move. Everyone is being so kind to me there. I feel so thankful.

ORION grins and they lock eyes for a long moment.

ORION: Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? Nai`a and Damien told me I could take tomorrow off.

ALICIA: Sure! Sure! That sounds great! I would love to.

CUT TO: NAI`A, a beautiful Polynesian woman with cat eye makeup and tight, seductive clothing on. She is watching ORION and ALICIA flirting on a surveillance video on a computer screen. She presses her lips together in a contemptuous, cunning smirk.

CUT TO: Exterior, it’s dark outside and ORION lets the screen door bang shut behind him. He takes out his phone and the eerie glow casts a pallid, bluish green light on his face. He is just beginning to focus on the phone, when NAI`A comes up behind him and gives his arm a friendly, playful squeeze.

NAI`A: Hey!

ORION: Oh, hey!

NAI`A: Did you have a good day today?

NAI`A is moving closer, in calculated moves, like a cat hunting a mouse.

ORION: Yeah! Yeah, I did. Hey, thanks for giving me tomorrow off.

NAI`A pushes up against him and he backs up, only to hit the wall of the grow house. She slides her arms under his, palms pressing agains the wall, boxing him in.

NAI`A: Yeah, that was pretty generous of me, wasn’t it?

ORION starts laughing uncomfortably, clearly he is attracted to NAI`A, and he is also somewhat intimidated.

As NAI`A puts her face close to ORION’s, she is looking him directly in the eyes as she leans in to kiss. FADE OUT.

CUT TO: The next day, interior of ORION’S apartment. It is cluttered, with empty food packages and unwashed dishes and laundry strewn about. ORION is on the phone with ALICIA.

ORION: NO, no, I really DID want to have dinner with you tonight, it’s just, something came up. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Take a rain check.

ALICIA has clearly hung up, and ORION is on the verge of weeping out loud, as he hangs up the phone and runs his hands through his sparse hair, pulling it.

ORION: Jesus!

Tears spill out of his eyes as he throws the phone down and collapses on the sofa in a ball.

ORION: Neo…where ARE you?

FADE OUT

We see Neo flipping in and out of the Matrix, and whether alone or in a crowd, it’s clear he’s keeping his thoughts to himself. We see him in Hamburg, riding up and down escalators. We see him traveling through the Alexandria – DC tunnel. We see him walking purposefully down a cobblestone street until he comes to the door of a parsonage. He knocks loudly. After a moment, we hear footsteps with heavy boots walking down a hallway, and the door is opened by FATHER PAUL JONES, a tall, silver-haired Catholic priest. A warm light makes the hall seem inviting, in contrast to the freezing downpour outside. FATHER JONES is a candid, sincere listener and also generally of a happy bent. He has a habit of turning his ear to whoever’s speaking in a very earnest way, and gesturing with his hands as he speaks in his strong Manchester accent.

FATHER JONES: OHO! Neo! How goes it?

NEO: Can I come in?

FATHER JONES: Of course! Right this way. You can hang your wet stuff in the hallway. Would you like a mug of tea?

NEO: Sure.

CUT TO: FATHER JONES’ study, which is really a library crammed with leather-bound books. A desk piled with books has barely any space for writing on the leather desk pad. Neo is sitting in a wooden chair with leather padding.

FATHER JONES: So, I don’t have to guess what brings you here.

NEO: Trinity.

FATHER JONES: You still miss her?

NEO: Without her, I don’t have any direction. I feel like I’m just…drifting.

FATHER JONES is lighting a thick white cigarette. He exhales the smoke, and NEO coughs.

NEO: That smells disgusting.

FATHER JONES: It’s a mapacho. For ceremonial purposes. It dispels bad spirits, and the like.

NEO: Spirits?

There is a knock on the study door.

FATHER JONES: Just a minute, I’ll get that.

FATHER JONES stands up and opens the door, and three people shove past him. NAI`A, DAMIEN, a skinny, sad-eyed reptile with a sickly pallor and missing tooth, followed by EZRA ISCARIOT, carrying himself with a pompous air of sadistic pride and universal contempt. EZRA is impressively tall, with a pewter quit somewhat darker than FATHER JONES’ whitish silver.

EZRA: Hello, everyone.

EZRA grins, ghoulishly, and points a silenced black pistol at NEO. NAI`A is pointing her gun at FATHER JONES, and DAMIEN is aiming at NEO.

NEO: Who are you?

EZRA: You can just call me Ezra.

EZRA is grinning maniacally.

NEO: I don’t know what I’ve ever done to you.

EZRA: You haven’t done it…yet.

Suddenly, there is a disruption in the Matrix: pixels start to swirl in a clockwise turning torus. From head to foot, everyone in the room is distorted, in a spiral motion towards the floor. Some of the pixels reveal a landscape in Highlands India, pristine blue sky over a rocky ground sprinkled with grassy stubble. To everyone’s surprise they are halfway in this landscape and halfway in the study at the same time. Suddenly, a phalanx of nomads on lively Arabian ponies erupts out of a crevasse. Three guards ride in front, with The Pleiadean riding in the center, and three riding in the rear guard. DAMIEN, EZRA, AND NAIA open fire. NAIA hits the rear left guard, while DAMIEN hits the front left and Ezra hits the front center guard's horse, which rears up violently, gushing a spout of blood from its chest. The center rear guard lets fly an arrow that strikes NAIA squarely in the jugular. EZRA and DAMIEN flee through the study door. And, suddenly, between the people, we see a new world open up, a native Hawaiian forest of hapu`u ferns and Koa, with dappled light shining down on the soft terms and moss carpeting the forest floor. MAKUA is there, wearing a traditional kihei and malo. He is holding a bowl of light, reverently. MAKUA is a husky, tall kupuna, with a gentle face and long, white beard that has a soft gray stripe in the middle.

THE PLEIADEAN: She is of your kin?

MAKUA: Yes. I’m sorry for the grief she has caused you.

THE PLEIADEAN: I am sorry that she came into contact with the Wetiko, through me.

MAKUA is smiling, with tears in his eyes.

MAKUA: My dear, it was not because of you. She met carriers of WETIKO, long ago, before you ever knew her. Her parents just did not have a name for it. Unborn children, who wish to be born into a brighter world on Earth, are on your side.

MAKUA’s two attendants take the body reverently on a cot made of woven mat, and carry it away.

THE PLEIADEAN’s remaining guard are standing patiently by, holding the fallen guard’s horse. They have thrown him across the saddle. THE PLEIADEAN is still standing in the study with NEO and FATHER JONES.

THE PLEIADEAN: Neo, I have come to parley.

NEO: About what?

THE PLEIADEAN: The agents, from your land. They are helping us protect our children.

We see the first spark of interest in life emerge from NEO. He fears the side of himself that consented to merge with the agents. Now he sees a glimmer of hope, that all of this pain could be for a purpose.

FATHER JONES is reclining in his padded leather chair, picking a stray piece of tobacco from his tongue. NEO turns to him.

NEO: Do you know these people?

FATHER JONES: Yes…rather well, actually. They’re part of a council of nomadic tribes from around the globe.

NEO: Should I go with them?

FATHER JONES: I would jump at the chance.

NEO does not jump at all. He turns his head as he addresses THE PLEIADEAN

NEO: All right then.

One of the guards has moved his brethren’s body to his own horse, so NEO can ride. He is riding beside WHITE PUMA, the left rear guard.

CUT TO: WHITE PUMA is making a fire in his tent, to warm up food for himself and NEO after their ride.

WHITE PUMA: You smell bad.

NEO: So do you.

WHITE PUMA: The Pleiadean has placed you under her protection.

NEO: Who is she?

WHITE PUMA: She is a Tulku, a reincarnated being. Her kind have been reincarnating on Earth for 35,000 years. She has returned many times to study and learn, in order to heal the rift that was made in the world when Ezra Iscariot sacrificed her infant daughter to his evil god in Atlantis.

NEO: Atlantis is a myth.

WHITE PUMA: Many of the old stories hold grains of truth. In this case, not just grains, more like boulders. We play the cosmic game across dimensions, across time and galaxies. There are those who disavow evil, and those who don’t. The Pleiadeans honor the free will of the human race, for it is they who imbued us with that property in the time when we were only animals and slaves. It is a precious legacy.

NEO: So, why was Iscariot after me?

WP: It seems, he believes that you play a role in a prophecy concerting the Pleiadean. It is said, that when her healing work is done, the Earth will return to balance, and she will have a child.

NEO: And I’m supposed to be the father?

WP is silent, staring at the fire.

NEO: Who do you think?

WP: I think that no one is worthy of her. But maybe that is only because, I am not.

NEO: One can never presume.

WP: Our people consider peace to be preferable to war. That’s what I will never understand about your world.

NEO: But, you fought Iscariot.

WP: It hasn’t always been this way. Once, my people knew how to live in peace with each other, and with the land. We had peace with the other tribes, and with new people that we met.

NEO: What about Father Jones?

WP: He does not have the disease, that Iscariot has. Father Jones, he shares the view of my people, that we can be healed. We do not seek revenge, we seek healing. Father Jones and I were both robbed, raped, and tortured by Ezra Iscariot. His followers tormented our children and grandchildren.

NEO: But, how is that possible?

WP: The cosmic ōllamaliztli game has been going on since the first colonizer came from Europe, and we tried to understand how to survive in harmony with your people. Our messengers came from the Arawak that men with big ships and deadly, shining knives were killing everyone, cutting the pregnant women in half.

NEO: That happened at My Lai.

WP: What is that?

NEO: It was in a war my country participated in. We were wrong.

WP: HMPH. Wars are wrong.

At that moment, a uniformed guard opens the flap of the onion dome tent that they are in.

GUARD: You are called to parley.

Walking over to THE PLEIADEAN’S tent, they pass through a nomadic village with yurts and decorated ponies. WP can sense that NEO is uncomfortable and tries to ease the tension.

WP: Hey, Neo. What happened to the peanut?

NEO: What?

WP: It was a salted.

WP opens the flap of the main tent and NEO bends to enter before him.

THE PLEIADEAN is seated in council with her generals, some of whom are women. Her face is like a waxing moon. Her eyebrows are sharp across her fierce face, but her eyes are laughing and crystalline. She seems to be finding WHITE PUMA’s joke very funny, for her eyes sparkle with compassionate mirth. There is a long, uncomfortable silence.

NEO: What is your name?

THE PLEIADEAN: My given names are too difficult for you to learn. You can call me, Bliss.

BLISS is inspecting him.

BLISS: What is your trouble?

NEO: I lost the woman I loved.

NEO is disconcerted to find that BLISS is laughing. Rocking backwards and forwards in fact, she falls over on her cushions.

BLISS: Romance is a form of materialism.

NEO: She was my best friend.

BLISS: I feel compassion for you. Maybe you will see her again.

NEO: I –

He stops short. He is confused.

NEO: How is that possible?

BLISS: You will see. Goodbye, until we meet again, Neo.

Guards gesture for NEO to leave the tent, and he complies.

Licensing Agreement

In order to let any entity use my work, there must first be consent based agreements.

Regarding my work, Script for Matrix 4, hereafter referred to as “The Script”, permission will only be granted to certain select entities for use, and only under certain conditions.

Negotiations will take place under the supervision of my attorney, Dinah Perez dinahperezlaw@gmail.com.

Currently, my position is that I retain ownership of the story and rights to make agreements with any subsequent licensors.

Caveat: Lori Lorenzo, her face, figure, name, or any pseudonym representing her is not allowed to appear in any work based on my work.

Pleiadean

Allow me to apologize for my words that were written. What I meant to say was, that all this energy I give you you will scrupulously and in grace, always return to me. I am sorry that I made this donation to my sister and former protege and anyone else who was given a donation, without building a container of consent around what was going on.

“It is a balanced relationship. My relationship with Malian nourishes me. She let her husband go, when he fell in love with someone else, because I had compassion for how he felt, and how much it would hurt him if I was the one who destroyed his love.

Why would you spend your moments crying another’s tears to cry? So usually women wants to stay happy because improves their looks…what would happen if your energy were the energy responsible for improving my looks and I depended on you so much and found you indispensable?

I feel contempt because what you’re doing is not helping. You’re teaching them that they’re beautiful, but what is the use if they haven’t validated who they are inside and who they want to be? You’re just taking advantage of their

The German national agency for international cooperation, welcomed back their employee, Malter Boysen, who is a reflection of myself in the masculine. He’s a reflection of all the men who have taught me what they could, over the years

Pleiadean incarnate is in danger, save her save her. SHE is the message in the bottle. She is the seventh member of the Atlantean council, the tiebreaker. If there was a tie in the vote, Malian would be the council member to decide.

She’s just gone to a very dark place, that’s all, there’s nothing wrong.

It’s just immensely painful to let go.

How do I endure pain without losing my joy?

I see a tall man with long dark hair, wandering, lost in his thoughts. He keeps his hands in his pockets and it’s clear he’s keeping his thoughts to himself. I see him in Hamburg, riding up and down escalators. I see him traveling through the Alexandria – DC tunnel.

MY Book 0.0

Chapter 2

There is a time to be in grief.

Taking time to honor the grief and let it subside naturally.  You don’t want to deny the story or eradicate its memory. The story I can never forget, because it is engraved in my heart with my most treasured memories of love.

It was a time of great controversy in our beloved city.  A time of spiritual tests.

I stood alone on the open, domed terrace of my palace.  Like other buildings in Atlantis, it was made of fired terra cotta, and hung halfway suspended over the ocean.  It was a beautiful, cleanly made and impressive building with its spacious high cupola and view of the Mediterranean ocean.  The artisans and craftspeople of Atlantis were the recipients of generations of wisdom about architecture, engineering, and metallurgy, which is what made our city so rich and powerful.

Alone, but calm, clear eyed and resolved to face the truth, I waited patiently, listening to the pounding of the ocean waves under a dark overcast sky.

A servant announced my visitor.  Robed, with long white hair and bent with age but still quite healthy, my close counselor and friend crossed the circular floor of the terrace with a reverential demeanor.  My respect for his age was completely overshadowed by his almost worshipful respect for my position in the city and the depth of my wisdom, gained through many lifetimes of incarnations.  A great love and joy permeated throughout the air as we met, despite the gravity of the situation.

He approached me without a smile, and I did not smile either although I was so relieved to see him.  I towered over him in height as he handed me a scroll. Neither of us wept, but his eyes welled with tears as he tried and failed to find any comforting words.

Chapter 3

I don’t want to remember what was written in that scroll.  For a long time, the memory was lost, until through the aeons of time and many reincarnations, the one who I loved appeared in my life and retold the story of what happened to her, the story that I read in the scroll, told by one of our informants who had witnessed the events.

The grief that subsumed me also collapsed the energetic field of protection that I had been casting over Atlantis.  The laws of the universe redirected the energy of the deeds that had been done, back at my city, and there was nothing that I could do except to allow it all to pass through me as the thunderclap broke over my head and began the downpour that eventually broke the hills above the city and submerged it in liquid mud.  I watched the raging storm and lightning ripping across the sky as the reflection of my own inner state.  

MY Book.

The work of the hakaʻilo
a worm in the wood

At the end it makes a pattern, he work manifests

My dad was afraid of Satan and Hell and all these religious ideas.

He was afraid of the paranormal surrounding me.

When I do things that make me feel good, it takes me away from him.

I never understood why they were so mean to me, but now I know that it is because they were afraid.

sometimes I think that if my dad could come to terms with our pre christian culture and value it he would heal.


trauma associated with colonialism has been plastered over and immortalized with religion
how can we heal from the humiliation of being colonized, if we can’t be proud of our pagan heritage?  All colonized people deal with the same thing.

It took me 32 years to come out of the closet and claim my birthright as an intuitive lightworker with great healing to bring to the world.  I’ve been training and regenerating my abilities. And I’m ready. 🙂

****

Chapter 1

It is the generational memory of subjugation by colonial powers that keeps that Irish stereotype going.  We need to redeem our identity as Irish people, as Druids. Lahey is a Druid name meaning “healing warrior”, that is what my grandfather told me.  

The four roles of the druid are sage, poet, warrior, and healer.

Chapter 2

There is a time to be in grief.

Taking time to honor the grief and let it subside naturally.  You don’t want to deny the story or eradicate its memory. The story I can never forget, because it is engraved in my heart with my most treasured memories of love.

It was a time of great controversy in our beloved city.  A time of spiritual tests.

I stood alone on the open, domed terrace of my palace.  Like other buildings in Atlantis, it was made of fired terra cotta, and hung halfway suspended over the ocean.  It was a beautiful, cleanly made and impressive building with its spacious high cupola and view of the Mediterranean ocean.  The artisans and craftspeople of Atlantis were the recipients of generations of wisdom about architecture, engineering, and metallurgy, which is what made our city so rich and powerful.

Alone, but calm, clear eyed and resolved to face the truth, I waited patiently, listening to the pounding of the ocean waves under a dark overcast sky.

A servant announced my visitor.  Robed, with long white hair and bent with age but still quite healthy, my close counselor and friend crossed the circular floor of the terrace with a reverential demeanor.  My respect for his age was completely overshadowed by his almost worshipful respect for my position in the city and the depth of my wisdom, gained through many lifetimes of incarnations.  A great love and joy permeated throughout the air as we met, despite the gravity of the situation.

He approached me without a smile, and I did not smile either although I was so relieved to see him.  I towered over him in height as he handed me a scroll. Neither of us wept, but his eyes welled with tears as he tried and failed to find any comforting words.

Chapter 3

I don’t want to remember what was written in that scroll.  For a long time, the memory was lost, until through the aeons of time and many reincarnations, the one who I loved appeared in my life and retold the story of what happened to her, the story that I read in the scroll, told by one of our informants who had witnessed the events.

The grief that subsumed me also collapsed the energetic field of protection that I had been casting over Atlantis.  The laws of the universe redirected the energy of the deeds that had been done, back at my city, and there was nothing that I could do except to allow it all to pass through me as the thunderclap broke over my head and began the downpour that eventually broke the hills above the city and submerged it in liquid mud.  I watched the raging storm and lightning ripping across the sky as the reflection of my own inner state.  

  Chapter 4

In Atlantis humanity was still in its innocence.  There was no monogamy because that was a concept that had not been invented yet.  In Atlantis we used energetic technologies that followed the principle of intention in order to build gyroscopes and plasma vortices.  Primarily we were metallurgists. From our work, which we always kept sacred, we became extremely wealthy.

What does it mean to keep our work sacred?  That means we always told the truth about the services we provided and the value of our materials.  It means that we worked in harmony, allowing those with more skill to enjoy their talent, while this with growing skill enjoyed it too and learned from that.  We valued each one in their own way. Primarily we maintained the energy of peace and prosperity with the actions of our craftspeople and from that sprang a benevolent effect around our city and the apparatus we used to sell.

The Atlantean culture traded with the surrounding area for food, sometimes using our food and other times with knowledge.  We were connected, at the higher echelons of intellectual life and government, to the Arcturian and Pleiadian cultures.

Aramaic

is a Hebrew language that I first heard of from my friend Matt Carl. Matt was on pot a lot and was afraid to talk to me so I only heard very few words from him because he was studying the Kabbalah.

When my dog came to Pahala, he had gotten cancer of the heart from eating people food. I asked my sister not to feed him people food but she did it anyway. He died in 2012 when my mom was on a Christmas visit. I gave him his special food and his heart exploded from joy because his joy had been restricted by the fact that I did not have fences available for him to run in safely on the farm. Now I have good fences.

Ernie was a bone of contention between me and my sister. We had been a team from the time I was 19 years old, living on my own on Wyoming Street in Kansas City. I’m sad that Starhawk took money from Dick Cheney to buy her consent to heal his heart when he had a mechanical heart. He was very nice to her, but he was lying.

All change involves a Death. My mom realized as I comforted my dying dog, that she wanted me to take care of her during a quick and painless death, like going to sleep. I sobbed over him and cradled his head as I managed to force out the words “He’s dying”.

Hero’s Journey

The Hero’s journey is an archetypal story of how human souls achieve spiritual power. The Hermetic principles are that what comes up, must go down and vice versa. So if you want to rise high, dig deep. Don’t be afraid to be cast down, because there you will find your brightest light. This is in all the stories. Remember, in the Lord of the Rings, the starlight that Sam used to rescue Frodo from the spider? Powerful stories are powerful because they contain truth. If you haven’t failed, you cannot rise above. This song was written for my cousin who is a survivor of ritual abuse.

The Hero

Birds are flying across the southern sky
you might not be good at love, but you’ve got to try
selfish and sad, you act like you’re proud to be alone
if you were surrounded with friends, your bad habits might show.
Tragic and sorry, and mean as a viper
hiding your hurt by being self righteous
forgiveness is a word you’ve heard, but you don’t know how it feels
to get or give seems dangerous,
so you’re digging in your heels
hero, go into the darkest cavern you can find
in the depths of Mother Earth is where your ego’s gonna die
hero go forward
there is no going back
gather all the courage that you have and zero in on your path
to find your way out, look for the glimmer of light
that tiny spark of hope
in the darkness of your darkest side
and rise
hero, rise
fighting your way out
a sweaty, bloody climb
clinging in the blackest bowels
with all your might
to your life
love is what the world was built for
clouds are scrawled across the sky
like animals leaping with joy
we are light
and we are one
hero, I’m on the other side
why don’t you come?