2 Ahau, 2008. "She Could Have Taken Her Clothes Off"

Sometimes the veil lifts of itself, and the seeing beneath and through the looking glass takes place. Lots of talk about esoteric matters. harvey's gone silent on me. My Kin has decided that finally it is worth "walking in this world." Post Burma. @ that was a heavy weekend. Bank Holiday beer cans in somnolent equivocation for a night that is summertime now. Friends in stressed places, and truths on the beach revealing the seas' intelligence off the coast of Oban she and I went down to see the seals and dolphins, together. Cold enough to swim and play it was. A cool ten minutes of dolphin watching and we were eread to make love. The bed and breakfast affording luxury rooms. Downtown, ha! a mere village, Ha! even smaller than that. Pedestal Cobbled roadsparthings waves of whiskey joy for ambling freaks. The new dimensional overlay from Venus took a big breath out of us, sandfilled sheets of skin and glass anklets sold in passerby eyeglass exteriors. The raindropping through the salient features, as Pluto retrogrades and Jupiter comes to a halt, Saturn's turned her fair back on the last wave of virginity and pleased to enthrall, made us welcome in the nook. Off shore boats equipped with orange lifeguards. A general, turning his back on his own wisdom, hastens to retreat and accept. DEFEATED! The true equivocation coming through rain and clouds off the old forest floor. We stopped in the MA,ple 45 grove West Kenought Hills Mayoral capacity 16 inside grove wood, ivy and holly trees size of cedars. Thought united, skirt uplifted, hand held in anticipation as waves of magpies nestled, pigeons too, at least the ones that werent shot survived by some breadcrumbs on the stone precipice. She wore turquuoise round her neck, break black ballbearings for anklets in her roughshod boot sad days of before, behind her dreamy eyes, that memory of the cracked out lines and dull days on the floor with him. Alabaster skin now turning greybrown in new spring sun shining upon her green shadowed skin. Rocky cliff walk to undergrowths of old yew. Wisteria blue bells waiting to be transplanted by a camera's lens into the millenium miles of facs and notebooks we call Galactic Home. Saddened news of men with legs amputated coming back to a 24 million pound refit. Does that mean there will be more? Are they... ? As sun now in high heaven, somnolent Taurus, I am told, we have jsut missed the Lyraed Meteor shower, and go running to the beach, swimming naked again in Scotland's gateway to the West before catching fast car rental to oversubscribed field of politics where paranoid delusionists attempt to make us feel guilt for using a bit of gravy. the underside of ) degrees at GMT and now embracing UST as the French say, this is Sabian. The new worlds opening up through the Micro alignments of Mayan and Moon lore. Second Wesak Festival. Second Full Moon, We were racing dwn the Moray Firth by late afternoon, am making sails with my bra, she sais, hanging head out window. I am breathing air! At least i thought it was air. Anyway, as the UFo starburst said it would, we were offshore again by nightfall in caravanette style boat yacht equipped with solar panel aerodynamic access to the broadband couch and the memories told over glasses of champagne while the dollars rolled in. nigh stalks of lily in pond reflect moonlight. Waiting up until we could rewach our own videos. Sixteen degrees Taurus. April Full moon in cedar grove watched by two fairy queens who served a King Garlic bread. The lunchtime staff in her Windsor's palace were subdued, exausted by all the activity. Twelve to feed your Lodship? The tartan banners flew in south westerly breeze causing fear of flood warnings all the way down Elgin Marbles, as Queen strode off silently to catch latest episode of house wired in through I Player, yes, they have it in balmoral. Reliability Maid informed man in caravan yacht to vacate or leave the premises before three as next rentalees were inbound for mammoth post Wedding jamboree. Still we cried when the earthquake bell sounded, one single toll at a time, as we counted the amount of solar panels we had in our wallets and watched the time for very rarebit made not out of wholesome Vegan wold. The stew served, the kids off shore and round the inlet quietened, two new lovers in the village saying goodbye before our flight back to Blighteye, arriving bleareyed enough to driva and navigate home to South Ken on Southampton Line for the weekend. I was marauding him in the car before we stopped in lay by and did it before eating chicken nugets we couldn't resist, rounding off fair vacation of otherworldliness with jaunt round stonehenge whilst tripping upon Margie Two Bears' leftover stilletoes from the solstice party. Some people have all the luck cliche and innuendos resounding off oddbeaten upsound and descaled radio as purveyors of donald trump reaquaint themselves with the lighter side of business it was back at the desk come new moon Monday eagerly awaiting thrid of Northern Island crossing Wavespell and next conjuntion turning...