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From The
DreamLog Wizdom
Series
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InitiationsA Multiple Induction from Ayahuasca Beyond
A Real Experience
Anatomy of Reptilian Rape
Double Exposé
COMING SOON!!
Cici´s Mirror A Parallel Play on Life By Cici
COMING SOON!!
El Secreto de la Serpiente La Otra Historia de la HumanidadPor Cici & Wiz Kininigin (En Español)
COMING SOON!!
My Creative Juice Glossary of Transpersonal Demons, Angels & Others
COMING SOON!!
A Hell of a Whale of a Story
COMING SOON!!
The Astral Gallery Real Illusions and the I ChingBy Emma Palmer
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THE VIPERS ENCHANTMENT (a real experience)
By: Wiz Kininigin
In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself, in a dark wood, where the direct way was lost. It is a hard thing to speak of, how wild, harsh and impenetrable that wood was, so that thinking of it recreates the fear. It is scarcely less bitter than death: But, in order to tell of the good that I found there, I must tell of the other things I saw there. I cannot rightly say how I entered it. I was so full of sleep, at that point where I abandoned the true way. But when I reached the foot of a hill, where the valley, that had pierced my heart with fear, came to an end, I looked up and saw its shoulders brightened with the rays of that sun that leads men rightly on every road. Then the fear, that had settled in the lake of my heart, through the night that I had spent so miserably, became a little calmer. And as a man, who, with panting breath, has escaped from the deep sea to the shore, turns back towards the perilous waters and stares, so my mind, still fugitive, turned back to see that pass again, that no living person ever left.
Second Circle: Minos: The Carnal Sinners
So I descended from the first circle to the second, that encloses a smaller space, and so much more pain it provokes howling. There Minos stands, grinning horribly, examines the crimes on entrance, judges, and sends the guilty down as far as is signified by his coils: I mean that when the evil-born spirit comes before him, it confesses everything, and that knower of sins decides the proper place in hell for it, and makes as many coils with his tail, as the circles he will force it to descend. A multitude always stand before him, and go in turn to be judged, speak and hear, and then are whirled downwards... ...I came to a place devoid of light that moans like a tempestuous sea, when it is buffeted by warring winds. The hellish storm that never ceases drives the spirits with its force, and, whirling and striking, it molests them. When they come to the ruins there are shouts, moaning and crying, where they blaspheme against divine power. I learnt that the carnal sinners are condemned to these torments, they who subject their reason to their lust... ...These words carried to us, from them. After I had heard those troubled spirits, I bowed my head, and kept it bowed, until the poet said: ‘What are you thinking?’ When I replied, I began: ‘O, alas, what sweet thoughts, what longing, brought them to this sorrowful state?” Then I turned to them again, and I spoke, and said: ‘Francesca, your torment makes me weep with grief and pity. But tell me, in that time of sweet sighs, how did love allow you to know these dubious desires?’ And she to me: ‘There is no greater pain, than to remember happy times in misery, and this your teacher knows.’
Note: Simply the act of writing this down, after years of attacks, blocks and sabotage, has unleashed even more high strangeness in my /our lives and immediate vicinity. Birthed one night, with prayer circle and all, the first part of this true story NOW SHINES)))
My Pre-face
Lives ago;
During an early constricting castrating ‘Marriage’, A concept opera was taking form in my mind. The work involved a sect of time-space cartographers and a virtual muse; This muse was my dream goddess, She served as a medium between worlds, Her eyes and brow were Frida Kahlo, Her demeanor feline, ‘vampiresque’. As I persisted with this venture, That ‘Mirage’ went bitter, And closing a process of self-destruction, I launched my Self into the heart of mystery, Into the heart of the Amazon, Into my own enigma. There i AM WE Drunken with Ayahuasca ... Months..? Eons..? i reached a peak, Aleph --- And communed into the pyramid man, WE THE CREATORS!WE could see the virus, the ghost cancer, The city hologram creeping into infinity. i understood the mission
STOP THE WORLDSEEK THE LIGHTBE THE TRUTH
So I returned to the world of shadows, With magic and power at my side, Yet so little Knowledge discerned, For the battles that unfolded))) Yes We through I achieved much, But the darker side was tempted, Fueled by toxins and egos And grew so much powerful…
I lost center.
Then... ‘Out of the Movies’
Once having returned from my experience in the jungles of my/our own mystery, magical synchronistic events accelerated and engulfed my destiny. A project was begun and precisely the key people appeared. We persevered and quickly drew much attention. There was glory and envy and our compass in a flurry. When suddenly my colleagues received invitation abroad to participate in an important festival. My contribution would be honored. This was exciting! Although somehow I felt hesitant, still all showed promise. We confidently departed and entered the foreign city as prince’s and kings. But in truth we were ill overshadowed with vices and inner struggles. On our first debut, with the purpose of celebrating opening night, we ventured off into the colonial old town next to our hotel. There in the festive air we came upon a small quaint café where the sign in Spanish read, “De Película” translated “Out of the Movies”.
Inside it was glass pane blue. Archways, wine racks and amber candles, it was like a cinema boutique. We boastfully positioned ourselves at a small door-style table exhibiting our own exotic qualities. And then, she happened.
At first, like a strange androgynous young girl. She was intense and intriguing. Doing the catwalk. Admittedly, I was an easy lure, all pretentious and horny. Still, she was just so fascinating; I could swear her face went in and out of focus, like a blurry hologram. All at once it came over me; “Oh my god, it’s her! The eyes of Frida Kahlo. It’s her, my virtual muse.” She fixed her glare on mine. I entered passion and......... Chaos.
She was dark, dense and fascinating. Such a seductive enigma, like a beautiful venomous wild orchid. However, curiously, whenever I was most sane, I could see she was actually also quite plain. During our choreographed courtship, in her small makeshift room, there was a movie poster with her very image, yet it was entirely another actress...absolutely striking! The characters name rhymed with arachnea.
© Cristina Aconcha The Frog meets the Scorpion
There is a beautiful park in that foreign city where I’ve converged so many times. I remember the sunny day as we strolled the brick walk above the city planetarium glancing flowers and lovers. It didn’t first strike when she told me this story, which later I understood as a perverse foreboding:
Once there was a frog that was crossing a stream. A scorpion called out to the frog asking for a ride. The frog was obliged and the scorpion climbed on its back. But once they were near the other side, The scorpion stung the frog with its tail. As the frog drowned, it cried: “Why?” To which the scorpion replied: “It’s my nature.”
© Cristina Aconcha
Enter the Solar Plexus
After a wonder week full of magic and fantasy, our last night in that foreign city, she came for me. Till then, every encounter was a thrill and a tease, but that night I found my Self in an otherworldly trance... mesmerized... hypnotized... She hovered over my pelvis, winding her thighs, swaying her arms. I was paralyzed into impotent awe when from her throat a snake-like extension metamorphed out of her mouth. With her head cocked back, it was dancing like an arm over my naked vulnerable being. This was delirious. Unbelievable but all too real. The snake-like limb slashed down snagging the area over my navel, surging into the solar plexus. I was in utter shock and inevitably lost consciousness.
The next morning, I discovered her leaving the shower rushing to work and so we bid a quick farewell. That was a serious hangover. During the trip home, the solar plexus area became increasingly uncomfortable and my mind was inundated with flashes of her. But my memories seemed vague, while relentlessly, the discomfort had transformed into a twisting contorting knot.
Abruptly, 3 days after returning home, in a waking state, I presenced this ‘knot’ erupt with hundreds, if thousands, of tiny opaque transparent spider-like creatures which swiftly dispersed over my body and being, spinning an ethereal web around and of my very soul. I heaved in thrushes of pain, entering a state of ecstatic shock. Upon ‘waking’, minutes later, I was driven by the impulse to hear her voice, so I lifted the phone to call, and received no tone, only silence, until magically, her words: “Hello?” overtook a creeping void that would follow me onward.
Image by Alex Grey
A Grave Departure
A few months passed with flights to and fro. I was puzzled and pulled in a tug-of-hopes. The base of my skull referred to as ‘the reptilian complex’ began to tense and swell. My colleagues displayed compassion but were finally pushed to derision. Tempers flickered and flared, and eventually so many desperate, drastic, hasty, wasted decisions. Against all logic I left my dream there and escaped to the promise of passionate plenitude and wild freedom. When I entered the café proud of my courage, she was unpleasantly amazed. After 3 days and nights of grinding sex and emotional taunting, she ‘asked’ me to leave. On a dismal city corner, a total foreigner stood without a place, without a ‘peso’, without a clue. Very strange daze indeed.
Still the Light was always with me, …Helping, protecting, guiding when unhindered by my own confusion.
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