Good Evening Dear Readers…
The path of destruction to Marrakech is unbelievably raunchy with few roads and highways.
They desperately need 4WD trucks and SUV’s to rebuild cities and townships.
In fact, they’ll all be best to build new townships, and leave the rubble and death to decay and fade into the Earth.
To see the charnel fields in the aftermath of wars and disasters is a dark chthonic meditation unto itself.
It whispers to You in the winds and You hear its Voice…
The Shamanic Journey begins with the Vision Quest into the wilderness alone fasting and wandering to wherever Your gut instinct takes You to the Final Destination.
You’d better have some knowledge of survival out there but it doesn’t matter… that Vision Quest can take You through wilderness and city areas and townships… wherever…
Perhaps there’s far more to being a Hobo than people realize…
Like one time in the 80’s after seeing the Apartheid riots in the U.K. where travelers were being deported en masse back to their last location from Heathrow and the Gatwick Beehive… back to wherever…
The USA return to Dallas and riding Greyhound to Corpus Christi just to see it and feel the energy where it led me…
Then to San Antonio to escort a friend to her family out on the West Coast via the bus… nothing better to do…
She was an occult acolyte and her thanks was a tantric blowjob on the bus ride after midnight watching the starry night…
After that a visit back in Tucson to see other nutters I knew going to college there…
And that call in the night and I wandered into the deserts no sense of time and picked a lot of peyote buttons filling the backpack… walking west in the deserts…
I came out of the desert by Yuma onto I-8 and behold two meth stoned Navy guys coming back from leave headed to San Diego…
They gave me a ride there and I got out; and one of their pals gave me ride to Laguna Beach…
He was a trumpet player from Eastern Europe and was playing an elegant Jazz Club gig there with a Jazz Trio…
The nightclub owner welcomed us; and as trumpet man played onstage the owner seated me at his table to chat as he knew me as a shaman a very long time.
He was wearing a light yellow jacket and plaid slacks seated with very pretty women who wanted to know about the deserts and taste the peyote…
And so I was their co-pilot as they imbibed the peyote to have our Sweat Lodge in the nightclub as the Jazz band played…
They closed and we all went to a Rock club on the grimy side until around 7 AM…
They all got home and another acolyte took me to the Bay Area and meetings with old friends going back to the 60’s and Haight Ashbury in my childhood…
It concluded and I had a backpack full of lots of peyote cactus buttons that were shared in Native American Sweat Lodges along with primo LSD that was given to me in the Bay Area…
A Sweat Lodge is a little like the one in Ken Russell’s movie, “Altered States” based on the autobiographical story of Dr. John Lilly PhD titled “The Scientist.”
People prepare for the Sweat Lodge with fasting, sometimes a Vision Quest and they all share psychedelic things dropped into the pot on the fire to partake of together and share in a psychedelic journey together bonding into unity in the darkness…
I’ve been known in the past to drop LSD into the pot and end up being all their co-pilot including old Medicine Men and Women…
Hell, I’ve dropped MDMA pills in the pot too at Native American Sweat Lodges in the Southwest and up North in Wyoming on the Wind River Reservation and Montana…
It just is what it IS…