Saturday, March 11, 2006

First Part Of New Diary

I am Izanagi, looking for Inanumi, a new name, for Izanami...Let me explain...

I am walking through a version on Earth of what they call Hades...

"Swim the ocean of Fear" she told me, or did the Moon Goddess, or the divine pink light which, in representation of charms, I had painted a pink haired girl, dressed in light green, sitting amongst moss and heather, one strand of her hair flowing into a pink pool, just less than a year ago...an evening before this, crawling through cupboards in my cell, I rediscovered this picture, and with one hand rays of pink light were brought across from the back of her head, into a blue and white sky...

I am Izanagi, looking perpetually since my teenage years for a 'sister', the one they call Izanami...

That night, the voice filtered through, on a radio whence, my first conversation had been with, an uncover (undercover) representative of 'inner peace and soul intelligence', a politcal engenda, for in these times, paranoia is the height, and to be 'too Adom in' is my fault, for I did not answer the questions and worries presented before me that night, but replied...'I am tired, Goodnight'...and words I throw too easily in from the back of my soulheart, the words 'I love you'...became a second part of the conversation, which was there waiting but not heard

......the voice filtered through, deeper and more beautiful than any voice I had come to hear before, at first quietly;

"Hide Thyself"

And then more warnings...Cover yourself...and my pleadings and confusion from an overload of information, my pathetic arguements...

"You know I love you"


I am Izanagi...I am leaving to find Izanami


After this...the arrival of threatens...at my home people, accompanied by the police, to take me away and lock me up further...I advised them as best I could...they went to talk privately outside my door;

'This one is eccentric'

They heard my laughter, and walked back into the kitchen, I stood at the table...;

'Well, you know what artists are like.'

I wonder if they had noticed, my wallhangings? the rose pink, purple, mauve, light blue painting of Doves, from one eruption of good feeling and correct hand, to an invasion around me in these cells of the towerblock, darker, unsteady, half done, half greiving, half forgetting, doubting...and the images of another Izanami, or Inanumi...whether they understood, that she is real?The joining of heartache and snow, in a cavern inside the grain of a tree, the difference in body souls, the different faces of self...

I am on a new medication...I will be visited every day, in this time wasted Hades, where, as it rains, no-one realises there is mourning...and my body effort, soul energy will wasted through a silence as I walk, without fear...but with thrown down spears upon my head, spears like words, or not even words, parried pieces of hatred...I shall remain strong...

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