[Morning Freewrite]


I wonder what it's like to Out of Body Travel.  I wonder because I think I may have gone again.  But nothing verifiable.  I have a hard time goingplaces that I want to go....  It begins with something that feels like leaving my body but ends up being like a dream with a bit more control.  Areas are blocked.  I try to, wraithlike, fly through windows and walls and cannot always, just sometimes.... And as of yet, I haven't met someone that I can talk to and have the feeling reciprocate.

But this time I did manage to consciously leave my body.  Go from where I was into some other space.  I suppose.  I mean I went from my body out of my body and then wandered around for a while.  I saw people who saw me.  I thought I knew them, but I don't think I could have (For instance, the three mat teachers from McClatchy.)  I saw a man dying and his lover.  And there was a doctor.  And the dying man said that someone had put a stethoscope like instrument down his throat to take out soemthing that had made his problem worse (?).

Anyhow.  OBE.... Strange thing.  I think I will continue to experiment.  But I haven't yet had any verifiable incidents.  Which is what I truly need to know if it is real or not.  I've had too many could be dreaming incidents, not enough I know this is real because so and so really did leave his  meeting and go to the bathroom....

On the other hand I wonder if I could meet someone in the other space that would help me.  This time I was lead up and out by a bird woman (green) and the sun woman.  I don't know how they relate.  I wonder if I will continue to see them?  Amateratsu?  The sun woman.  Hmmm...

Well, what else plagues me needing to be written now?

The House breathes.  The breathing house.
living through its occupants.
Slmmed doors,
warm exteriors.
Inside to outside it hides.


Beginnins of a poem.  The meaning has changed halfway through.  And so the meaning needs to be drawn through the rest of the poem.  Like water through warm glass tubes.... Drawn.... Drawn up.  Drawn through.  Make it respond.  Make it do.  The breathing house \ lives through its occupants \ warm exterior \ slammed doors \ inside to out \ it hides.

There was another version of this poem with a different thought just as I started to journey this morning.  I don't know what it was. I have forgotten.

[End Morning Freewrite]