Friday, June 13, 2014

Witchy Woman, Edith, Discusses Ways To Ransom a Soul From Death.... 6/14/14

Edith took her time. She thought and considered. Then she went on..... The problem is - she said - reality is fluid. There is no 'now,' just what we see, or think we see at any given instant..... Please know she spoke to the cool, night air. As a witchy-woman, she knows we're reading this. She knows the one called Billy Kravitz channels it out through a slightly dated lap top. She knows many things, though essentially a very modest woman.... And as she speaks out into the dark, Piney ether, Mister Edith, plus their two or three Red Paint People guests, rock and nod. Red Paint People don't say much anyway. An old, abiding culture they are. Some consider them to be surviving vestiges of original Cro-Magnon stock. Males tend to favor Captain Jean-Luc Piccard of The Star Ship Enterprise. Females bear a striking resemblance to Olympic Skier Picabo Street. Not as children. When they're older, I mean.

Getting back to Edith, she said - Think about a river. If you stand on the bank and look at the water (well, how can I say this?) it's never the same water. Different molecules of hydrogen dioxide (for that's what water is) flow by every second. Other things flow by too, dissolved bits of former animals, urine from various sources, tiny, water smoothed , shards from a long forgotten skull, gray, stringy fish turds. 

Life is like that. It has no beginning. It has no end. Birth and death are but dams. When we're born, life flows out from life. When we die, part of that force is diverted. We slide down a sluice gate into a holding tank, perhaps the 'tunnel' of light' people talk about, and wait there, preserved and safe for as long as it takes. But each soul is a discrete repository of unique information and nature doesn't waste a thing.

For everything there is a season. A time to live. A time to die... And to be truthful, a time to live again. Tomas, also known as Jonathon, wants to live again. He's not different. That's nothing new. Many souls resting in the clear, cool pools of eternal joy and contemplation want to climb out onto the deck and run around a little. And they do. They get that chance. It's called reincarnation. But every time they step out onto the stage of the living, memories are wiped clean. Maybe it has to be that way. Otherwise death would be but a momentary hiccup and physical life would truly be eternal? I don't know all the details - said Edith. Just some. And if Tomas is brought back, we have to create another dam, or another sluice gate that will bring his essence back to us in this part of the world between Philadelphia and the South Jersey Shore. some call that act a 'ransom.' Some call it a 'diversion.' Words are just words. It's spirit and power that counts. 

Then she got up, went into her little house and came out with a basket full a little bottles of liquor, like what they used to give out on airplanes. Mister Edith said - Give it here... She did. He fished around for a bottle of Jack Daniels, took it out and passed the rest over to the Red Paints. I don't know what they picked out. Who cares? Edith didn't take any liquor for herself. She had a pouch of Capri Sun. Witchy-women ain't no big drinkers. They go whoop-dee-doo other ways. 

For now they just sit and rock and drink... a few people on a cozy little porch, lit by a handful a small candles, deep in the middle of the spirit-filled woods. 

Pin Head Mel and his best friend, Horsey Skeezix, watch from the darkness. but that ain't no big deal. They always snoopin' 'round. 

Next time we hike up them skirts and show you more.

If you like, google the NEW JERSEY PINE BARRENS. These woods is real... and they are out there.

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