I am laughing because I'm realizing I'm sitting here in the refractory period of my morning ritual having just jizzed all over my journal, the sacred books that are really the receptacle for Sacred ejaculation, jizzing all over everything out of control, like a little teenager. But I'm lying here in the aftermath and the afterglow and gazing at the objects on my altar, and I've never been so in love. This is how I feel when I look upon the sacred elements. I gaze upon the crystals, and they look extra shiny when I've just done something good for all of us. I can tell when I've just done something good for all of us. I can tell when I've just moved the energy for the positive, because everyone's glowing. Everyone's glowing. I And I'm not even rolling with classic psychedelics, but I have had a lot of cacao. I'm looking at my altar and just full of love. The crystals and the flowers are hyper color, hyper dimensional. They're like DMT objects. They're jumping out at me. They've never looked so beautiful as they do today. The candle flickering, even though the sun has already risen, this pale morning light, they're perfect. I'm excited to go to nest. I'm excited to build things, I'm excited to make my offerings. And I just can't express the liberation I continue to feel it having released journalism. A new life has begun. I have freedom. I've reclaimed, actually, that feeling that I had when I broke my pelvis, the part of me that liked it, the part of me that needed to do that to escape my life. I had to do it. I had to shatter my pelvis, to shatter my connection to journalism. Honestly, I was addicted, and I couldn't quit it. Addicted to writing, a dick would. Addicted to language, addicted to the reality made of language, addicted to words, the prison of the mind and all I really needed and longed for was feeling so of course, I broke my fucking pelvis and my sacrum in five places. Five the number of Oh, I was gonna say the number of wholeness, but I Think that's six. That's five in the Maya calendar. I