Sematectonics

Sematectonics

Part One: The Medicine Bag

 

By John Ashley Whitaker

 

 

“What are you doing today?” asks Dixie’s boyfriend. She hates that fucking question, if she doesn’t have an answer it is going to be followed by, “You want to hang out then?” Her boyfriend was such a good person, but not manly enough sometimes. She wished he would just say, “Hey, I want to come over and fuck.” She lies to him and tells him she is going to be working for the next six hours and will call him back. She really just wants to be alone for the moment with her vibrator and put in some porn. “Good ol’ Man-o’-War”, she exclaims then adds “my true love gets me so hot”. She kisses her favorite sex toy and reaffirms to it, “I love you the most. What fucking good are men anyway?” She gets off and she sit’s and thinks. “Maybe I will do the dishes—then I would feel better about myself. I wanna beer; ah fuck its 10AM. I think I have an eBay auction ending today—fuck I need coffee—I'll make more coffee. My mind is so restless, I'm so listless and anxious all the time—I'll roll a joint—that's what I'll do.” It was a nice crisp and clear morning in Reaction Kansas. Everything is going quite fine in Dixie’s life except for one thing. She lives in a great house, has plenty of money and free time. She also has a loving and kind boyfriend and they are madly in love with each other. The only problem is he can’t make her cum, sexually he is too passive and reluctant to give her the kind of carnal fuck she so often craves. In that regard Dixie thinks of most men of being pussies. She is a vixen, she intimidates men, her body is hard and limber from doing yoga, and her skin and hair look like they could have been stolen of an angel she killed. Her eyes are dark energy in color and her hair is dyed blue. She has a tattoo on the back of her neck that reads, “Life Feeds on Life” and above it a solid black five-pointed star.

 

Dixie lives in a quiet suburban neighborhood in the small college city of Reaction, Kansas. Across the street from her home is what used to be a swamp until the water was drained by the city. Suddenly suburbia ends and a dense forest begins. Ivy covers the entire forest floor in the summer and there are lush green plants that glow as the light comes through the trees. She discovers it while she is jogging on the nature trail on the other side of the forest. The trail is jokingly called the Rape Trail. She’d heard about it, but never met anyone who had actually had been raped on the trail. Nothing like that worried her anyway. She believed that as long as she controlled her thoughts and had only positive thoughts it would always reflect in her world. She considers herself to be a bit of a sorcerer and metaphysician. Nevertheless, the woods are well known for a good place for criminals to escape after a robbery, deal drugs and for juveniles to ditch school and get drunk. The part of the forest Dixie was on is off the concrete path, secluded from the main trail. Unlike the part of the forest where the city built a concrete path by chopping out swaths of trees and vines this path was not beaten down, it is rather a path that had been long grown over with the rest of the ivy on the forest floor, but it is clearly a path that is easy to see. The place where this path leads is known only to a few shamans of the mystic Waokans, carefully passed down from ancient times. The significance of the place it that it is a vortex which allows one to obtain a power in life, a power that can only be trusted by those who have absorbed the wisdom of the Great Mystery, if it were to be exposed to anyone else a disaster would ensue leaving the elders with no other choice, but to sacrifice the 12 Vestal Virgins to the Sun and let the wisdom lie dormant again maybe even forever or until they can find a way for the Great Healing to take hold. Dixie Hawks has never heard of the Woakans and she doesn’t know anything about mystical things, she is a metaphysical master, but she is among the lest prepared in in all eternity for the place she is about to go.

 

She is in the midst of a battle of mind and thoughts and has been ever since she can remember. In addition to this battle she is in a battle of emotion and feelings. It has been years since she began to practice the art of thought control. She has improved her mind and her mood substantially since taking control of her thought life, but still everyday there where new and more complex challenges that present themselves. She wonders where they all come from and why they continue to manifest when she is so good at controlling her thoughts.

 

Dixie smokes about half a joint and sips on coffee while she browses the internet, aimlessly surfing Facebook for some type of a clue or direction on which way to turn. She feels hopeless, bored and desperate in this moment. The day seems to be like salt on a wound. These are the feelings that lead Dixie to clicking on a link where she begins to watch a movie called “The Secret” about the Law of Attraction. She watches the movie three times in a row. She thinks, “I have the answer now. I know now that I can take control of my life for good.” Dixie loves the feeling of positivity. She gets some index cards and begins to write down affirmations and repeats them to herself. The affirmations are designed for her to create the exact life she wants to have, she has complete control over the process and she loves having control. She has lived a life of such great struggle and strife. She wants to experience more freedom. “It could have been this easy all along.” She thinks. “I just needed to realize my true power. Ask, believe and receive. It’s as simple as that.”

 

She has a stack of 3 x 5 index cards and she picks them up and sits cross-legged taking a few deep breaths before she begins to say them aloud, boldly and consciously. She call’s them her brain worshing cards.

 

“I am generating powerful thoughts and passing them through my mind, producing vitality and energy.”

 

“My life is magical.”

 

“I am a Divine masterpiece.”

 

“There is unlimited power and strength available to me.”

 

“I have an abundant supply of the energy required to complete my plans and I become stronger as I finalize each goal.”

 

“My personal presence makes people feel purposeful and powerful, giving them a sense of mental clarity and creativity.”

 

“Through self-discipline, laborious mental effort and steady repetition, I have re-programmed my mind to think what I want it to think.”

 

“I make things happen in my favor by moving in a fast, but in a calm and confident way.”

 

“It is impossible for me to fail. Everything that happens somehow contributes to greater success.”

 

“In my world, nothing could possibly go wrong.”

 

“I am my own eco-system, the author of my own book; I create reality with ideas from my own mind.”

 

“These statements I make take hold  in my brain and attach themselves to my mind, shaping my thought processes.”

 

No matter how simple the formula is, she is in a battle of the mind. A battle between positive and negative, she continues to toil in the struggle. Sometimes she reads the cards, other times she just repeats the statements because she knows them by heart. When she makes a statement she visualizes it sinking into her subconscious mind. She is proud of how well she has fared in the battle up until now and she considers her ability to put up with the struggle part of who she is. In a way she knows that without the struggle she wouldn’t know who she is. She tries to visualize her boyfriend ever giving her a good fuck and it just doesn’t seem possible. This uncontrollable fantasy always leads to despair.  She knows the path, but doesn’t know what do when she loses it. She just looks for the path again anytime she gets lost. Sometimes taking the path is the reason people don’t find what they’re looking for—just because there is a path doesn’t mean is goes to the right place.

 

The one escape she finds from this pain taking walks in the woods along the so-called Rape Trail. When the anxiety becomes too great, she smokes a half a blunt and takes a walk, walking in between the high rise apartment building, Burger Lion and the grocery store.   As she crosses the road she sees an owl land on top of a stop sign. She pauses to look at the owl and the owl doesn’t seem to mind. The sun is out, but its cold and it starts steadily snowing. She walks into the trees she sees what she knows as the winter wonderland. It’s beautiful, it’s mystical and it came on without any warning. Just moments before the sun was shining, now she cannot help but think of how all the stupid Kansas people are going to walking around all day repeating the phrase, “That’s Kansas weather for ya’.” She found it utterly annoying, but she knew they would be saying it all day. She say’s to herself, “Well, that’s Kansan’s for you. You fucking stupid rednecks.”  Snow is blowing through the branches and the light fluctuates as the winter storm moves in creating a flickering in the magical contrast of the forest. She hears loud thunder and the sky becomes overcast. The snow is already piling up at least 6 inches over the forest floor in most places, the creek is still flowing with water. The path through the woods stands out as obvious as it ever did even with the snow cover. The path leads towards the south where the light from the sun is no longer visible in the winter blizzard. She crosses an old bridge with a giant oak tree that looks like it could be 500 years old. It looks like it has eyes and looks peaceful and wise with deep veins. The roots are visible from erosion and there is a small cave underneath it big enough for a person to camp where it’s perfectly dry.  Suddenly from a hole towards the top of the tree she sees an owl poke out its head. For several minutes he stood and watched the owl then she sees two young owls look out the hole. At the bottom of the tree where the roots are showing she sees the end of rattlesnake tale slither into a hole. The snakes are done hibernating for the winter this snow coming down is a fluke of nature.  They look at Dixie for a while and see looks back. She had never seen so many owls during the day. The owl’s face and the tree seemed to be woven together in some way and both interwoven with the wisdom of the Great Mystery, but the Great Mystery is only a flash in her mind.

 

Dixie isn’t dressed for the cold  nothing can be done about the wind blowing on her face and the chill throughout her body. She fights the cold for the reward of seeing the mysterious beauty she is seeing. To her this walk in the woods in the snow on this fine morning is an incredible treat. It reminds her of her childhood, back when she seemed to be on the right side of the magic and subtle feeling of deadness and boredom hadn’t yet sunk in. She couldn't help but think of herself as a child wondering into a dimension of delight and ecstasy that seemed to slip through her consciousness without her being able to grasp it and then she soon forgot it. It was almost as if it was a dreamland only familiar to her when she was asleep. It feels so great and beautiful to her she soon forgets the cold as she walks in bewilderment among the forming virgin snow drifts.  The wind blows but there is silence. It's just her and the snow, nothing else or no one else seems to be out there. Dixie with her bright blue hair, piercing black eyes and black star tattoo showing on her neck stands out in bold contrast amidst the background of white crystals.

 

Three hawks are flying due north, gliding low with their wings bent and looking for something to eat in barren winter land—spring slowly creeping. She looks for the next sign from the Great Mystery and spots a Red Hawk feather lying inside the print of large paw print. She thinks she hears something like brushes and leaves cracking. She had heard of recent mountain lion sightings in the area and for some reason when she thinks she hears the noise she immediately associates the thought with the news she heard. She knows her mind likes to play tricks on her so she doesn’t let the paranoia get to her. She was amazed by the size of the paw print which was the only one she could see as most of the land was covered with snow except by the creek where water is still flowing and the snow isn’t sticking. “It easily could be a big dog.” She thinks. The park is well traveled with people walking or running their dogs. Although the park is in the woods it is within city limits, it is secluded, but a public place and someone could show up at any time. When there is not snow on the ground she remembers seeing trash and debris sprinkled about the whole area. Dixie has seen many little abandoned party spots on her walks back there. Places in the woods where some folks just rolled up drank a 12-pack, did some drugs and had some sex leaving all the evidence behind. She had seen beer bottles, used condoms and needles left in spots several times on her walks. It was obvious why it was nicknamed the Rape Trail. Sometimes their where creepy things she came across that she can’t even remember because she made herself ignore them. None of this ever scared Dixie; she is way above that shit. She had been raped before, but she didn’t consider herself a rape victim or a rape survivor, but a victor and a master of thought. There was no way she would have let getting raped let her lose control over her mind. Her family and friends kind of she thought expected her to act like a victim, to be traumatized and have psychological disorders. Her sweet boyfriend especially, she thought was turned off by the fact that she really didn’t give a fuck about getting raped and begged for him to just fuck her like a man. She liked getting fucked with her cloths mostly on, the man being so hard and hot and in a hurry that he can’t even wait to get them off. There is something about that she finds so goddamn sexy.

 

She didn’t really know these things for sure, but she suspected them to be true and she secretly resented them all for it. She did pity her poor little sister and that she never had a chance in life. She so vividly remembers her mentally retarded little sister no matter how much she wishes she could forget her. She was so sweet, yet so gross and such a burden. She always had snot coming out of her nose and smelled of piss and shitty pants. Her hair would be matted, twisted and there was always some type of flaming sore on her face or lip. The bulging sores on her slobbery snotty face is what Dixie remembers the most. Each sore burned a spot on her brain. They were so gross and painful looking yet she couldn’t shake the memories. She was always embarrassed to be in public and disgusted by her droopy little ways and ugliness. She remembers secretly wishing she could have a real sister and not a dependent mental retard.  At the same time she loved her, she saw that she was sweet and kind and had trained herself to always keep an eye on her wherever they went. It has been ten years now since her and her sister where kidnapped by a sadistic cult leader named Heinous Cockburn then tortured and gang-raped by him and his 3 sons who were born of incest and raised with constant abuse. They had been around Reaction for years, but lived mostly as hermits, but have been known to attract followers outside of the family from time to time. The have an especially keen interest in preying on people with mental problems, to them the more freakish and ugly a person is the better. They are one of the most twisted group of screwheads ever known to man, sick to the bone and dangerous. Even though they are well thought to have committed crimes there was never been enough proof for a conviction. The prosecuting attorney was an incompetent idiot. He did more damage than good, but he did do a good job of explaining to Dixie she was to play her part as a victim so that he would have a better chance at winning the case. That’s what she did though, is played the part, but deep down she knew she wasn’t a victim. She never let it affect her heart. Dixie although she was drastically injured made it through the ordeal alive, but her sister died during the attack and she was a witness to the brutal rape and murder of her sister. The Heinous Boys raped them both before and after the murder. Dixie was 13 whe she had gotten pregnant during the rape and that pregnancy was aborted shortly afterward. Dixie was beaten unconscious, but there are parts which she remembers in vivid detail as if time is frozen there. When she remembers her sisters innocent crossed-eyed face for the last time and sees that look of absolute helplessness—and then feeling a sense of relief when she saw her die with Heinous Cockburns pulsating penis insider her wet little pussy. Since that moment she has felt a deep sense of guilt. She even felt guilty after the abortion and she wasn’t even against abortion, but in her case she felt she was doing wrong. She would think about aborted fetuses soul and wondered what it could have been. No matter how much mind control she produces – no matter how many manifestations she achieves she cannot forget that moment she last saw her life when she was innocent.  Dixie knows these weren’t the types of things a therapist or a preacher can handle. She had seen her share of them including that fucking dumbass at the Christian counseling center and that damn cunt school counselor in Jr. High.  They acted non-judgmental, but deep-down she knew they thought she was just a whore, because she liked getting fucked and being dominated and losing control. She wasn’t going cry over something she had no control over and even deep down made her to now be freer, as much as she tried to not think about it. She now had her own life and didn’t have to take care of anyone, but herself. She believes that only dominion over one’s own mind can cope with this suffering and it is the power of positive thinking that she masters to get through it all. She uses her suffering to create a positive out of it. She trains herself to think of all the good things she learns from being victimized. It has allowed her to gain a more objective perspective. She has even tried to get her sweet boyfriend to be a little rougher with her during sex, but he feels strange about it. “I’d love to beat those guys’ asses.” He would say about it, but she knows if it came down to it Heinous Cockburn would have raped her pussy boyfriend to. In a way she would kind of like to see it happen just to shut him up.  He was a good guy, but not a tough guy, not like Heinous Cockburn and certainly no Man-o’-War. He wore hair gel for crying out loud, he couldn’t beat up his own shadow.  He is dark and handsome, but couldn’t fuck worth a shit either. She feels she is like any other person with a carnal instinct to want to be ragingly and passionately fucked every once in a while.

 

She walks through the woods where she can see there is a trail and feels that she is on it until she comes to a clearing. She sees a hawk glide from behind her and graces its way through the tree line soaring into the horizon.  A flock of cardinals where making their way through the brush along the tree line. There is yellow and orange prairie grass coming out of the snow that looks like fire on top of the white carpet. From there she can see that the path goes around the outer perimeter of the clearing. Then in the lowest part of the open prairie is spot that Dixie is drawn to like an irresistible magnet. She falls to the ground there and kisses the snow covered ground. There is another beautiful and giant tree that stands out from all the others. The tree looks illuminated like the moon to her, like a wise old man or wise owl with a wrinkled, grey face. She lays there, she caresses that spot and she relaxes--she loves, she feels the love and is the love. She sits up and begins to meditate; now she feels warm. She forgets the snow she is so warm she sees in her vision plush green plants and vibrant growing grasses and trees as the sun radiates warmth and energy into to her. She thinks of Chlorophyll and like a plant, she is feeling herself gain energy from the sun. Although the sun is obstructed by the snow and it is getting close to below zero, she cannot only see it, she is it, it is in her and she basks in it. Time is irrelevant to her. The state that she is in is a timeless state; the place she is in is an infinite and eternal one. She feels as if she as melted into the very essence of life itself—the cosmos. She has never felt so free, so beautiful and so wonderful.

 

She has not a thought in her mind as she slowly takes a deep breath that drops into her chest and the oxygen goes into her blood, cleansing it and purifying her body. She holds the air inside her and feels it bringing joy to her heart before she slowly gives it back to the atmosphere. She can feel the warm blood flow into her legs and she centers muscle tension in her calves and thighs first then plays with her energy activating different muscle groups at her will. Then she allows the life energy to rise through her body with fresh blood rushing through her brain, taking her outside and above her brain through the top of her head. She sees beautiful hues of indigo, violet and magenta as she is above the mind and separate from time and space.

 

The answers to all of life’s questions, she had wondered about deeply are all answered to her—she has slipped into a realm of the invisible spiritual world; finally she feels she has conquered her own mind. She lets go of the world as she knows it and sees reality as it really is. She say’s to herself aloud, “I feel so fucking good.” And without thinking about say’s it again and again— When the snow blows the wind seems to change the color of the snow and rainbows of flashing colors are also living beings flashing in and out of form and transforming. She is standing there vulnerable and abandoned, free and liberated from all the limitations she has ever known. The Great Mystery was revealing itself to her and she is embracing it in all its glory.

 

She is encompassed by a flash of light. She finds herself now in a Native American village, she hears drums and sees people dancing and chanting around a fire. There are 30 teepees on the hillside now and children running barefoot through the tall grass. She is sitting 10 feet away from a teepee where there is an old woman sitting and seems to be quietly praying. She is wrapped with a brightly rainbow colored blanket and there are 3 feathers tied into her hair. She opens her eyes when Dixie looks here way and stays motionless and silent. About a minute passes before a young boy runs up to Dixie and hands her a large yellow mushroom. The boy giggles at Dixie, their eyes connect and he motions for her to take a bite out of it. He has a face that looks beatific and angelic. The old woman stands up and takes a few steps over to the two of them. She gently takes the mushroom and places in a small bag made of what looked like a fox pelt with 3 feathers attached to it. Embedded into the bag where fine gems: black opals, star sapphires, rubies and diamonds. Treasures seemed to be abundant in this vibrant world. The old woman is wearing a necklace made of turquoise and gold. There are stacks of jade and fine spices and herbs lying around her tent. When the old woman opens the bag to put the mushroom in it Dixie notices it has other things in the bag, like smaller leather pouches tied shut and some clay vials with corks on the top. There is also a pipe inside the bag that reminds Dixie of her dildo, Man-o’-War. The woman takes out a small leather pouch to place the mushroom in, but before she does so she tears it up into small pieces. She takes a piece and places it in her mouth and chews it up and swallows it. She then gives the child a piece of the mushroom. The old woman and the boy are speaking to each other in a language Dixie cannot comprehend. The old woman tells the little boy something and motions towards the drum circle where the drums are steadily pounding in an astounding way. The boy runs to the fire and grabs one of the dancing men from the crowd, tugging on his leg.

 

The man is wearing a headdress made of the tail feathers of a red hawk and has war paint on his face that resembles cuts from a cat’s paw. He approaches Dixie and puts out his hand. The old woman has a knife made of bone and she carefully pokes a hole in man’s wrist while he stands in silence dripping bright red blood onto the green grass. She then takes a big piece of the mushroom and soaks it in the man’s wound, letting his blood soak into it. She then places it in a leather pouch and with a dap of blood marks the bag. The old woman leads Dixie, the man and the child into her tepee. Cradled next to a small fire is a child and the old woman immediately goes to check on the sleeping child wrapped up in rainbow colored blankets, apparently very sick. The woman gets out a pipe with 3 eagle feathers hanging off it and loads it with herbs she has stored in more small leather pouches. She then takes a small piece of the mushroom she soaked in the man’s blood. She lights the pipe and takes a deep hit blowing the smoke under the blanket of the sleeping child then handing the pipe to Dixie. The boy looks at Dixie and motions for her to smoke the pipe and is chuckling. The man smiles and takes the pipe from Dixie as to show his enthusiasm about smoking from the pipe. The old woman laughs and then the child takes a nice long hit as well. The pipe gets handed to Dixie again by the child and she by this time had already decided she was going to take a hit when it got to her. She inhaled the thick bitter smoke and held it until it felt good. By the time she exhaled she was tripping. When she handed the pipe back to the old woman the woman smiled and her smile was made out of cosmic dust. There are dancing patterns of cosmic snakes tangled up in timeless limbo. Her brain the next second is not tripping and everything is as it was, but then when she sees the old woman hit the pipe again she sees the whole surrounding reality get sucked into the pipe and the vertigo returns. Now there is no teepee and no fire,  just a blank screen with her, and the others. Now the sleeping child awakens and the old woman calls for her as she turns around Dixie sees it is her retarded sister as always snot coming out of her nose and a big red sore on the side of her head. “Sissy!” She is scared strait. “Aren’t you glad to see me sissy?” Dixie feels a deep numbness out of shock to her body from disbelief. “I think about you all the time sissy.” Dixie responds to her. She feels so scared, she knows what is going on is impossible, yet she knows it can’t just be a dream or a vision. She is so happy to see that her sister is safe and being taken care of. She can see that the old woman and the man in the headdress will take care of her and nourish her. She feels to as if she is being nourished by them and that the boy who brought her the mushroom was also her son who she aborted. She could feel that the notion was true.  When the smoke hits her lungs it is as if she is like an eagle soring over mountains. She has the sense that even if something isn’t real it is real enough to be imagined.

 

The man in the headdress puts his hand over his heart and bows to Dixie. The old woman ties the medicine bag around Dixie’s waist. She feels as if she is cloaked in magic. The warrior is done and rejoins the fire circle and the drums seem to thump in her heart like the breath of life itself. She feels all the abundance in the universe is hers and she begins to morph in and out of parallel universes walking back towards the vortex where she was sitting by the illuminated tree which she now sees is a portal to other dimensions.

 

As Dixie walks away. “Don’t worry sissy.” Says Dixie’s little sister. “I may be sick, but I’m not blind and never have been. I’ve seen eternity an infinite number of times; I soar with the eagles and hunt rattlesnakes. I was watching over you while I was alive and even before you were born I’ve protected you and now that I’m healing, the old woman watches over us both. I know all of your thoughts and still I love you more than you will ever now during your life.” Her little sister with drool coming out of her mouth and that throbbing blister Dixie still couldn’t help but be disgusted by went on while Dixie listens. “I only look this way to you Dixie. I have to look this way for you. It is what protects you Dixie. Listen to me Sissy. There is magic woo in those yellow mushrooms, sissy and it will nourish the part of you that needs the nourishment. The man’s blood is the key; if you weren’t able to handle it he wouldn’t let you try it. The mixture would kill most others. The only reason it doesn’t kill us is because we need it for our spirit to live on. The old woman is working on special potion, an elixir which will be the antidote to complete the next algorithm. Right now you have been following the wrong path, don’t follow that path, but watch what is going on. The forest will speak to you in its own way. If you need me I will always be in the magic woo. The animals will betray you eventually. They only keep you alive to later feed on you. The sooner you go back to the worms the sooner the birds can eat you. Beware especially of the crow and don’t trust it. You can always trust a vulture though they may be ugly, he never lies. Use the sparrows and the robins, they’re easy to manipulate. There is a trace in each environment that you will see so you can swirl the stigmergy that stirs the elixir we need to heal the spirit. If you have to call upon the serpent expect to repay it when you least want to. I don’t go hunting rattlesnakes unless I have to. Just build on the work that has been done. You think you’re enlightened but you’re not yet sissy. You think you have all the answers, but you don’t.  Everything is in on it Dixie—the animals, the trees, every circumstance and even what you are named at birth is in on it, sissy. Stay on the right side of the magic and pay attention.” Dixie’s sister continued to speak, but Dixie phased her out and soon found herself alone again sitting quietly in the woods with the sun bathing her in warm light no longer in a phantasmagoric state. She still was saying to herself, “I feel so fucking good.” It was like her entire existence had been cleansed and her spirit nourished—she has induced satori bliss, Samadhi bliss, ecstasy of the human spirit—she illuminated and glowing with radiance of cosmic energy as she opens her eyes lying on the ground and sees three Heinous Boys walking her way following her trail and her scent. She is scared and grasps the medicine bag as they approach.