One Thing Leads to Another Spoken Word (Salvation remix) (C) 2026

 

Well there I was in the back of this police car thinking to myself, "How did I get here?"  

 

Tunneling Through the  through the officers reports of bad driving, violence,  I could hear over the radio the song, “One Thing Leads To Another” by the Fix. And I thought to myself, "How'd I get into this fix."   

                                    The FUTURE is just a Series of CHOICES. 

 

I gotta' give you a warning "STAY OFF THEM DRUGS!" Because it's gonna' take you to a place you really don't wanna go, like the back of a police car.  Make you do things you thought you would never do.

 

And I looked out that back window of the police car and out of the dust of the grave yard I saw three phantoms rise. 

 

You know that the world wind does what it does when it hits the edge of two walls, in this instance it was two fourth walls.

 

And they spiral into the sky reminding me of the disembodied spirits of the nephilim. Way back when that dirt was mud covered by haunted waters of that ancient flood.

 

And the soothsayers back in the day would chew on those special leaves to get some sort of possession. Sometimes, these spirits had good intention. Unfortunately, many times these spirits had had evil intentions.

 

Earlier: 

I was outside of the cemetery gates. I opened up my energy drink "Planchette Energy." First the precipitation comes. Releasing the spirit. When the spirit is released, there is a wind that will rustle leaves showing you the path. Also you'll hear a strange humming. These are the signs that show you where you'll be a channel.

 

In that spot I hit my drum with my foot in that special way to be in sync with her fading heart beats.

And I played my guitar to be in sync with the creatures of the night. 

                                      

 

                                                                But then I was interrupted

by sirens, and flashy red, white, and blue lights.

 

As I quickly dismantled my camera from the tripod, I found what appeared to be a wedding ring in the dirt.

 

I entered into a black door way two lines connected at the top by half a moon. Blink your eyes and sometimes. Yes sometimes you come to on another side you never expected.

Like a small room with walls I wonder if they were ever clean. Our words represented our energies bounced off of the triangles.

Sergeant Lott asked me what I was doing in the cemetery:

“Gave Up The Ghost.”

"What are you implying? When was the last time you used drugs and alcohol? What do you mean 'Gave Up The Ghost?' Why are you desecrating the dead?"

He lit a cigarette and I watched the smoke stand still in the air forming phantoms.  Perhaps giving a representation of what was left behind…

She left the house. Wasn’t there when he came back.

                                                           

At the same time

        perhaps

 in a different place: 

 

After i 

took the ring out of my pocket and handed it to him across the table; I saw that look in his eyes. A peace of Sergeant Lott went over his face. The wrinkles that seemed to be the stitches that kept the paper thin skin on his skull seemingly disappeared. His face got fuller. 

He couldn't hide behind fear any longer. His tears fell-a release of those years of pain. 

He left the room with his cigarette still burning in the ashtray. I watched the smoke rise. Reminded me of

"when I opened that Planchette Energy outside of the secluded cemetery entrance. The sound of opening the can. That breath out of releasing things that trap you, imprison you. Precipitation released the apparition, the spectre. The guidance took it's form and I followed to where I needed to be a channel."

"You should protect yourself," Sergeant Lott said when he reentered the room and handed me a bible.

"You are free to go now."

 

Do you remember 

 

 

how

 old you were when you were shown how to trace your hand?                                                                        I do not remember how old I was when I was shown how to trace my hand.                                                  I do remember my traced hand was cut out on construction paper; then was shaped                                    into a bird. I also remember it being so magical seeing two hands forming a bird in                                                                      The Light's                          shadow these same two hands                                                                                       come together during prayer.             

Some time ago, more recent than childhood, I became obsessed with tracing my hands on pieces of paper. Peace of Mind Piece of Mind Mind of Peace Here. Hear.  But Somewhere else.               Worlds: words within words.

                          Words: worlds within worlds.

Some Time Ago...

Circles and Spheres.

One day an obsession came and started Tracing my hand.

 

Then came the day when I just decided to place my hand on the cover of that Bible. I closed my eyes. Then I inhaled slowly; thinking of all my problems/conflicts, wanting some sort of sign to ensure that I'd be okay. Next I opened the Bible, started turning pages hoping something would guide me.

                                            HELD MY BREATH.

                                            -EXHALED SLOWLY-

                                              halfway   

                                                   I 

                                              opened                                                                                                                                                                            my eyes. Stopped          

                             "Breathe God In. Breathe The World Out."

                                                                                       turning                                                                                                                                                                          The Pages. 

 

Perhaps that same finger that told me to be silent, pointed to those words:                                             

                                        

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