A Dream About Being Sodomized By An Ogre's 4-Toed Foot - Anguish Spreading Through Me Like A Cancer - Considerable Pain In Left Knee As I Hike Up Kulio'o Ridge - Cascading Descent Of Energy Stopped By Distracting Desire To Itch And/Or Swallow - Hiking Required To Enable This Force/Process To Take Off - Needs Of Knees Versus Needs Of Nervous System

A microcassette transcription

Kundalini Awakening - Spiritual Signs And Symptoms - December 13, 1995

1995.12.13. (tape #50 continued)

I'm driving to work. Last night I had a very strange dream. I had a lot of fear in me, more fear than I've had in a long time in a dream. I was held captive by this man, and in order for him to spare my life, to not kill me, I had to go through torture, voluntarily. What he was going to do was fuck me in the ass with his left foot. And I looked at his foot, and it consisted primarily of four large red toes. Each toe had a couple of claws on it, and all the claws were red in color and bleeding. One claw had an eyeball and warts on it. He was going to fuck me with that hideous foot. I asked him how long he would be fucking me with that foot, and he said, "Fifty minutes." The thing that was psychologically interesting about this was that it was my choice either to run away--and have a chance at life, but risking his recapturing me--or stay there with him and submit to this horrible treatment. I thought about it in the dream: he was a mean man, an ugly, ogre-like man. There was no way that I would let him fuck me in the ass with his beastly, horrid toes and foot. But I was scared to the bone. One thing that was interesting was that X [my brother] had been his captive also, but he had run away successfully. And I asked the man, "What's going to happen to X?" He replied something like, "I'm going to kill him" or "We're going to get him." But basically X was free, he was a fugitive from this man's grasp. Maybe this man, this character, metaphorically, is an image of society, of the pressure to conform socially that I--we--have been going through--and that X has rejected. So what I did was flee. It was my choice to do that. He allowed me to go free. If I wanted to try going free, it was my choice to voluntarily do that. I could escape if I wanted to, but then he would hunt me down and, if recaptured, my treatment would be worse. So I ran away. I broke free. And I remember distinctly that I couldn't call anybody, I couldn't tell anyone where I was, because somehow the information might leak to this man. I ended up finding this empty house, or at least it seemed empty, but a woman was gardening in front of it. I pass her and I go upstairs. In a bedroom on the top floor I turn around and she is there. I break down, sink to my knees, and cry, begging her not to tell anyone that I am there. I tell her that I am sorry and that I will explain everything, if she can just be sympathetic with my situation. Hearing this, she hesitates, and I am afraid that she doesn't trust me. I hope desperately that she will not call to inform on me. The reason why I ran away is that I had no trust in this man, I had no feeling that if I were to submit to his authority and treatment that my life would be any better or at all decent afterward. I felt that submitting to him would somehow forever make me his slave. I did not trust this man at all. So, I am happy that I fled, but I don't know what it all means.

(later) I'm coming up the Kulio'o Ridge. I'm starting to feel anguish spread out through me like a cancer. Both of my knees are fucked. My right knee was really strained the other day, and it continues to be really sore. I'm talking about the cartilage between both bones. And now my left knee! Last night I had a hard time walking a number of times, and now there is a considerable amount of pain in my left knee. I know that compensating for it with my right knee, as I've done for the past year, is not going to be possible now. (sigh) Fuck. I'm just trying to get up this mountain. That's all I want: To get up this fucking mountain. I feel so frustrated that I could die. At the very least, I need to get to the top. I need to get a hit, a small hit of that, and then come back down. At the very least. Not being able to do this, at all, is just a horror, a sheer horror, an absolutely unbelievable horror. All I can say is that I'm screaming at God for help. All I wanted was a little more time. I'm counting the days now! A couple more weeks is all I need. Just give me a few more weeks! Give me through Christmas break, at least. Just give me a solid knee for this short time! You can take my knee later. I won't need it then. Just let me get my circulation going for a few more short weeks. This is horrible. I might not be able to make it up today. Any type of vertical exertion really hurts. I'm able to limp right now along an extremely gradual ascent, but the steep sections later on are going to be disastrous. And the descent will surely be a bitch. I'm not even at the hard areas. This is all a joke right now. This is supposed to be the bogus part, the easy warm-up. This is really, really fucked. God damn it. Damn. This is fucked.

This afternoon I was very, very productive from 1:30 to about 4:00, doing lots of thing for school, for myself. I vacuumed, shopped, all sorts of stuff, and for ten minutes I lay down. I relaxed to the point where I started feeling a heaviness start to cascade down through my nervous system, all of it. And at that very time--and this is just neurotic mind-play--I had an intense desire to swallow, just this intense desire to swallow. It was a distraction. I also wanted to itch pretty badly. Both of those desires distracted me. It is such a touchy thing. If I am distracted at that one moment, just as the wave of heaviness starts to crest, then it stops and I can't go any farther. The distraction introduces some kind of intellectual component that tightens up against, and resists, this wave. So I did not get to go very far today. But I need to keep on playing with that. I need to have this Christmas break where I am doing nothing but attempting to absorb myself in this heavy flowing energy. I need that. If this process of becoming heavy is not really strong and really fast, it is easier to play mind games with it, and frustrate it. That's why I need this exercise. This exercise keeps my system running at passionate enough of an intensity that this force will have the chance to take off. That's why I'm still walking. I'm hiking up this sucker. I'm going to do it. My nervous system is laughing right now, it's higher than a kite, and it's urging my knees on for more. It could care less about the price my poor knee is paying to keep this process afloat. I have a lot of pain in my knee. It's a joke that I'm even walking right now. I should go back. I should nurse it for four days. I should take four days off. What horse shit. What total horse shit. I'm going to limp up this thing. Fuck it. I can't turn back now. It's a joke. I can't. I have to get this done with. I didn't know how long it would take. I decided to forego the juicing and that real body-sustaining diet in September, three months ago. I did not know how long I would need: three months, six months, nine months--somewhere in that time range. But I decided to drop everything and go for it. I needed this time. I'm already wasting a lot of time driving all the way down here. I can't have anything hold me back now. I've already been held back enough.

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