-Shelby Jackson
I dreamed of hanging with some people that I had met in Arizona. We were enjoying ourselves at a drag show. In life, these two people actually do not like me. Which made the dream more interesting.
The scene shifted to me walking down a dirt road. I was accompanied by several weenie dogs that I have either owned or belonged to my Meemaw. Ahead on the road they ran towards trees that lined the shoulders. Suddenly a group of badgers ambushed us. The dogs attempted to attack but of course the badgers were incredibly vicious. I grabbed my baton and began swinging.The badgers gathered at my feet and became docile. After they disappeared, I checked the dogs for injuries. They were not harmed but there was some gore I noticed under a nearby tree.
Intestines, offal, bloody mess. There was a large placenta. Steam coming off the slick surface. I tore open the sack and took in the contents. A white boar. I placed my hand over her chest and felt a heartbeat. She was not breathing. I sucked the snot from her nostrils and breathed deep into her head. Her chest rose and then fell. I swept my finger through her mouth. Pried wide, I cleaned her airway. Slightly nervous she would take my fingers off. Those teeth. Trying to hold back the vomit, I continued.
Her eye blinked open. She breathed in on her own and began to stand.
End.
I am a pig in chinese astrology. The purity of the white boar. My graphic novel Pigman. So many ties with this symbol. The dream affected me deeply. Though I cannot ascertain the exact nature of the dream. Nor do I feel that this is my focus. Perhaps it is meant to just unfold. Revealing more like a mutating catalyst.
This rebirth into a realm of shadow work with a sobriety unknown for some length of time, has proven to be a shocking exposure. Just understanding the resounding echoes of distant tapes and writing them like some sort of mediumship.
Spilling off the pages and into the circles of people. A vulnerable sacrifice via the corruptive actions I once clung to. Alchemically transforming into a substrate that lays a foundation to build inspiration, catharsis, and ultimately trust. Trust of others.
The divine knows all. I am aware of my actions. The true judgement that entices fear, is judgement from my brothers and sisters. Sitting alone with a crazy person, the ego layers pin feathers. Not suitable for flight dear Narcissus.
My disposition towards anthropomorphism. My misanthropy. All centered around the ideals of group think and humanity. Such illusions. I look at this blog and see so much now.
These thoughts have been steeped in a hot cup of shit topped with marshmallows. It seems so stifled and bland. The result of a burned palette. Even the self deprecation is an attempt to put Jesus out of work. "get out of the way skinny man. I am the truly misunderstood martyr."
The tattoos and external darkness used to be justified. Once thought to be a way of filtering out those who couldn't handle my internal contents via taboo advertisement. inversion: How about I save myself the pain of rejection, by frightening you away with my blatant visual violence.
This little pig is happy. those born in the year of the Water Pig are said to show the extremes of being a Pig. They can be very emotional, deep, nurturing, sympathetic, empathetic, imaginative and intuitive; however, they can also be cold, moody, jealous, sentimental, sensitive, escapistic and irrational.
Studying the enneagram these days. Reading All and Everything by Gurdijieff. He writes like Evola. Total cypher trance stuff. escapism? I never sold my soul. I never even earned one.
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