We interupt this usually awesome blog for some hippie crap

Dear Goddess, You who never kill but only change:

I pray that my exuberant, suave and accidental words will move you to shower ferocious blessings down on everyone who reads this benediction.

I pray that you will give them what they don’t even know they want — not just the boons they think they need but everything they’ve always been afraid to even imagine or ask for.

Dear Goddess, You wealthy anarchist burning heaven to the ground:

Many of the divine chameleons out there don’t even know that their souls will live forever. So please use your blinding magic to help them see that they are all wildly creative geniuses too big for their own personalities.

Guide them to realize that they are all completely different from what they think they are and more exciting than they can possibly imagine.

Make it illegal, immoral, irrelevant, unpatriotic and totally tasteless for them to be in love with anyone or anything that’s no good for them.

O Goddess, You who give us so much love and pain mixed together that our morality is always on the verge of collapsing:

I beg you to cast a boisterous love spell that will nullify all the dumb ideas, bad decisions and nasty conditioning that have ever cursed the wise and sexy virtuosos out there.

Remove, banish, annihilate and laugh into oblivion any jinx that has clung to them, no matter how long they’ve suffered from it, and even if they’ve become accustomed or addicted to its ugly companionship.

And please conjure an aura of protection around them so that they will receive an early warning if they are ever about to act in such a way as to bring another hex or plague or voodoo into their lives in the future.

Dear Goddess, sweet Goddess, You sly universal virus with no fucking opinion:

I pray that you will help all the personal growth addicts out there become disciplined enough to go crazy in the name of creation, not destruction.

I pray that you will teach them the difference between oppressive self-control and liberating self-control, awaken in them the power to do the half-right thing when it is impossible to do the totally right thing.

Arouse the Wild Woman within them — even if they’re men.

And please give them bigger, better, more original sins and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems.

Dear Goddess, You pregnant slut who scorns all mediocre longing:

I pray that you will inspire all the compassionate rascals communing with this prayer to love their enemies just in case their friends turn out to be jerks.

Provoke them to throw away or give away all the things they own that encourage them to believe that they are better than anyone else.

Show them how much fun it is to brag about what they cannot do and do not have.

Most of all, Goddess, brainwash them with your freedom so that they never love their own pain more than anyone else’s pain.

Dear Goddess, You psychedelic mushroom cloud at the center of all our brains:

The curiously divine human beings reading this prayer deserve everything they are yearning for and much, much more.

So please bless them with lucid dreams while they are wide awake and solar-energy-operated sex toys that work even in the dark and vacuum cleaners for their magic carpets and a knack for avoiding other people’s hells and their very own 900 number so that everyone has to pay to talk to them and a secret admirer who is not a psychotic stalker.

Dear Goddess, You fiercely tender, hauntingly reassuring, orgiastically sacred feeling that is even now running through all of our soft, warm animal bodies:

I pray that you provide everyone out there with a license to bend and even break all rules, laws and traditions that keep them apart from the things they love.

Show them how to purge the wishy-washy wishes that distract them from their daring, dramatic, divine desires.

And teach them that they can have anything they want if they’ll only ask for it in an unselfish way.

And now dear God of Gods, God beyond all Gods, Girlfriend of God, Teacher of God, Goddess who invented God, I bring this prayer to a close, trusting that in these mysterious moments you have begun to change everyone out there in the exact way they’ve needed to change in order to express their soul’s code.

Amen. Awomen. And glory halle-fucking-lujah.

FUCK ROB BRESZNY!!

I don’t believe in astrology. This guy, though…throughout the years his Leo predictions (or whatever you call them) have been eeriely en pointe to my life. I have had them turn yellow and dry up, taped to my bathroom mirror, work monitor, etc. So check this week’s the fuck out:

 

Your strategies are very close to working. The results you’ve generated so far are almost useful, bordering on successful, and on the brink of being beautiful. My question now is: You won’t stop here, will you? You’ve already garnered a measure of recognition. You’ve gotten a taste of victory over your old bugaboos. Will you be satisfied with these partial breakthroughs, or will you fight and kick and scratch to strip away the almosts and ascend to utter triumph?

I mean good god. There isn’t a sentence in there not directly relating to what I’m experiencing right now. From physical projects like my damn bike, to inner projects like trying to not despise everything about me, and be open to hippie crap like letting people help me, and love me as I am. If I was satisfied with the partial breakthroughs I’ve made, I wouldn’t be putting myself through the financial, emotional and physical strain of going to Burning Man!

Egads.

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