Planet Ezzie (49. Microphone drop)


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I’m back in the land of the living tomorrow, at least at uni as well as a lesson with Laura late in the day. My students haven’t been seeing much of me over the last month, so I can’t miss them again tomorrow.

Today’s card:


Ordinarily I love this card. It usually represents completion or a reminder to finish what one has started. It can also represent the power of the Will, taking control of one’s destiny, as well as reaching a new level of Spiritual Understanding: Enlightenment.

Is my work done here? Have I learned too much about myself to be an effective non-interventionist creator? Or is it just this life that has reached its zenith? Is this the end of my bodily existence or the end of my spiritual time in this universe?

Both Leane and Laura are here tonight and are very concerned.

Personally, I would like to get through my Pittsburgh and Indianapolis concerts before I depart, and I would want to say goodbye to the two most important people in my life, Jem and Becks, as well as my family.

I look at my last three draws:

Princess of Wands (me) –> Love –> Universe (could also be expressed as love, but more of a passing to enlightenment)

In case this is indeed the end of me in some way, I took a whip around spiritually to see everyone. I gave Becks and Jem kisses on their cheeks. I think both reacted, although I’m sure Becks didn’t know who or what had touched her. I think Jem knew. I think she could see it coming from a long way off. That’s why she was staying out of it. She seemed on the verge of tears after I kissed her.

I hugged my parents and siblings, although none knew it, and I have left instructions with Laura and Leane about what to do if it all goes wrong. I also took a visit to the Orb. Surprisingly, their time is now aligned with Earth time, so I was able to say goodbye to Leane II as well as Laura and Tommy, also not forgetting Kyra, my daughter, who looks healthy and strong. I may not remember their Orb in my next life – or I may be in it. Who knows?

If this is goodbye, dear readers, then I wish you well, even those of you sending me hate mail. Your karma will even it out eventually.

*microphone drop*

Planet Ezzie (42. Back in the Saddle, on my own)


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At the cafe today, I heard an old Aerosmith tune that I used sing in the shower (on manic days). I’m Back in the Saddle Again. Am I back in the saddle? Truth be told, I was never a horse person, never learned to ride like my friends, and was never interested. In fact, I was anti-hunt, which wouldn’t have endeared me to childhood friends.

I ordered a new deck of Tarot cards today. Finally. Well, I say new, but they are really the same deck that I’m comfortable with. I kept looking at all these shiny new decks, but none spoke to me in the same way. I may buy a second deck at some point, maybe something with Goddess connotations, since I’m not just a goddess, I am The Goddess, the Creator. Why then, should I need cards at all? Comfort. I need to revisit my comfort zone.

I don’t wish to seem vain or cocky about being a goddess, but I’m starting to think that it may be so. I can’t find anything to contradict my blog posts from before the lightning strike. My out-of-body experiences and my Orb fantasy world may be just that. If I believe them to be true, that doesn’t hurt anyone.

I just wish I had done a better job at creating this world. It’s hard to create and then let it develop itself. I don’t interfere. I can’t. There are too many things to micromanage.

By the way, Laura found it. A pendant that Jem gave me while we were at the Whorehouse. I never wear it anymore. I’ll post a picture of it sometime. Not now. She emailed its precise location to me this afternoon. That is the secret she couldn’t have known.

I visited my new Adam and Eve. They seem well-suited to one another. They have taken over the house, albeit leaving my bedroom for me to visit. Time within the new Eden seems to fluctuate. Laura has already had her first child, basically a day of Earth time after they were created. They seem to have been there a couple of years. They don’t question where the electricity comes from or the water, but they know they will have to leave at some point, and are preparing themselves.

They are beautiful beings. I won’t describe how they are different. They are mostly the same, but with some subtle variations. They also know that someday they will need to clothe themselves, but are enjoying their current freedom. There are no Trees of Knowledge and Life, and no serpent. They know the scoop, but none of us know what kind of society I will unleash them into.

I also visited my moon womb. It has become my sanctuary, the place in all of my universes that I feel most comfortable. As far as I can tell the planetary society hasn’t yet developed space travel, as it seems undisturbed, except for its own indigenous population. They are curious about me, but haven’t approached. They communicate, but silently. Again, they haven’t tried to communicate with me. They are very tall and thin and like the foliage, have a green tinge. Are they mobile plants? Perhaps. One day, they will tell me. For now, they will just create lore about this red and white creature that must seem like a ghost to them. They don’t swim in my pool, but they do in the others.

In case you are wondering about my lack of slips tonight, Leane is silently sitting here with me. I think she is a little jealous of Laura. What do you want from me, Leane? I have given Laura something that she may have wanted herself. She shakes her head. I have given Laura something that she cannot personally benefit from. Something is eating at her, and tonight is not the night for her big reveal. The spirit-me has seen her future, but I can now only guess at what I saw. Even though I have come to believe, I do not remember. I am not allowed to remember. It seems to be one of my rules.

I am her mother … her spirit mother. That is all I know. She is one of my first-born. Laura is her spirit-twin, and they may have been twins in all of their past lives, but that is something that Thaddeus would know, and possibly Tommy, but he no longer speaks with me. Is Leane tormented by something? Again, she shakes her head, but this isn’t quite so certain.

Why does she not speak?

She shrugs. She is not in the mood. She’s a teenager.

She didn’t like that, but she remains there, watching me.

Anyway, I have decided to explore inside myself, looking for other Orbs. There are many. Countless. Some are dead, charred almost beyond recognition. Others glow with light. Which one am I in now? (Obviously not a dead one.) I’m afraid to look inside any of them. The dead ones make me sad. I have failed. I am not the perfect omniscient Goddess that everyone assumes. I don’t know the future, at least not enough to be useful. I don’t make the future. I don’t punish. I don’t elevate. I observe. I live my life, however wretched it may be.

It just started to snow outside.

Leane has just sat down next to me on my bed, resting her cheek on my shoulder. She senses my depression.

A kiss on the cheek and she is gone. I’m a lizard, a turtle … um, alone.

Planet Ezzie (26. Premonition)


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IV. Emperor

Taking responsibility, success through self-discipline. The meaning that really caught me was: Learning to sacrifice yourself for a greater cause. Only by surrender do we gain spiritually. Another Major Arcana. I’ve been drawing them all week.

I’m terrified. Last night I had a premonition. I can’t describe exactly what it was, but when I awoke during the night, I was outside my body. Aside from disintegrating … err, being disoriented, I’ve never been so afraid in all my life. I woke up lying on the chaise lounge on the patio staring up at the nearly full moon. I had gone to bed early to rest up for tomatoes, tamales, … tomorrow.

My feeling of foreboding began earlier in the week, probably the day after my last blog. I wrote my will.

Yes, you read that right. I wrote my will. I am that afraid. It was something I put to bed … put off for ages. I’ve taken the next week off from the symphony, and I wasn’t due to play the following week. I’ve also cancelled my lessons for next week, and told them that the following week was also cancelled unless they heard from me. I said I was having a lobotomy … um, surgery.

Tommy and Thaddeus are totally against this, but I know I have to do it. I’ve been spending less and less time in my body lately, and this has to stop.

And now I’m out of my body. Figures. She is typing away blissfully unaware that she has been left uninsured, undignified, unclothed, … erg! … uninhabited. She is mostly unclothed, to be honest. The henna is sharp and black, ready for tomorrow. The more time I spend outside my body, the more disturbing the re-entry. I feel like I’m diving into a pool of slime, and it takes longer and longer for the feeling to subside. It can take an hour before I feel dry inside.

My orb glows brighter now, too. It looks like a 4 inch sphere of the purest water, and I sometimes think that I can see images inside, not the inverted landscape behind it. It is an odd emotion, but I feel I have come to love it. It is part of my soul, so it is a weird self-love, but it is a seed, perhaps the seed of my future. I have also spent a lot of time staring into it, searching for answers. All I get back from it is its warmth, moistness, and love. Yes, you read that right. It loves me back, like my newborn child.

Marcel said that he has found a special spell to cast in the ritual. I have my doubts, but I’m doubting everything now.

Tomorrow morning, I will give my laptop to Tommy with instructions to change my password. I wouldn’t want Beatrice luring all my followers to slavery if everything goes wrong. I will check in with Tommy and Thaddeus after it is over. If I am able, I will post as soon as possible after my ruin, rising, resurrection, reckoning … sigh … the ritual.

If you don’t hear from me again, I am dead.

Planet Ezzie (20. Mortification)


Someone who is calm on the surface, masking a passion and intensity, which could make him volatile. Has much to give, with immense abilities, but could be fickle. Could be secretive.

I have been hiding from Beatrice, mostly through spending as little time cooped up in my body as possible. She fought back with a vengeance today, exploiting my usual weakness. I suppose you remember her penchant for blond men, and her ability to make me orgasm at the mere thought of it? This week we have a guest pianist from Poland, who lives in London, Wolek. (I’ll leave his surname out for privacy.) We played a few chamber music gigs together several years ago, and he was the pianist in a contemporary music course at Aldeburgh that I attended just after I graduated from Guildhall. That week included several (drunken) nights on the beach – all night – where we, um, did it a couple of times. It was dark away from the bonfire, so no one could see us, or at least so I thought. (Becky did.)

Notice that Beatrice is leaving me free to tell my story? She’s gloating in triumph.

To continue, Wolek and I have a history. He had a girlfriend back in Poland at the time, and I was with Jim, but he wasn’t there. Our two worlds collided. We merged. When it was over, we left and went our own ways, only barely keeping in touch. I slept with him again once after one of our London gigs – while I was with Truls. Since then, we have kept a moderate correspondence. I say moderate, but it became downright smokey at times. He liked talking about sex, specifically sex with me – the sounds I make … Allen used to talk about my tongue stuttering … but Wolek said that my whole body stutters. A rhythmic crescendo, followed by an ecstatic, uh, uh, uh, then I fall back into rhythm. That usually brought on a swift, prodigious orgasm for him.

(Damn you Beatrice. You all can guess what just happened.)

So after rehearsal today, Wolek came backstage to find me. One touch on my elbow brought about one of the deepest wettest orgasms I’ve ever had – like dripping down my legs. Wolek mentioned the sound I make – well I made that sound. In public. IN PUBLIC!

While I swam in my panties, we chatted briefly, and then had dinner in his hotel room. I should clarify. We had dinner. WE DID NOT EAT, well not until we stopped for a takeaway on the way back to the hall for the concert. Although, we showered (together) after “dinner”, I didn’t have spare panties, so I reeked of sex through the whole concert.

There was a party after the concert, which included the premiere of a piece written for him by a composer (I’ll call him Ben) that we both knew from that same course.

I should say that both Wolek and Ben are married, yet we ended up a threesome back in Wolek’s room. (I hope their sheaths remained water tight, or I would surely be pregnant. I think that explains Beatrice’s timing.)

Eventually, I escaped while both slept. That is, my spirit wandered around the hotel room, surveying my transgression. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I thought about flying away, but I couldn’t. In that state with our fluids all over the place, my body was vulnerable to Beatrice. I wouldn’t want to be around when housekeeping showed up in the morning. I sat out on the balcony until Ben stirred and woke Wolek up. (He was still wrapped between my legs, and partly on top of me.) Ben took that opportunity to leave. Wolek and I had a parting grope. He remembered that my breasts were my fuse, and took that last chance to light me up – to lick my wick, as it were.

It was about 4 am by the time I extricated myself. I can’t believe that I’ve done it again.

I’m a mortician … mortal (yes, but that’s not the word) … mortified.

Don’t forget to eviscerate, evangelize, victory, … err, visit me in hell.

Planet Ezzie (15. Bench of Spirits)


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PRINCE of Swords

An intellectual man, well-educated and private, with a rapid-fire mind. Someone who doesn’t let others in easily.

Ooh, mistake today. I decided to go to the pool today, but went on walkabout while I was packing my stuff. Why did I go to the pool? I decided that I needed to be around people, but not from work. The henna on my arms and legs would attract attention, but while my body was on autopilot, it put my black bikini in the bag instead of a demur one-piece. My balk, balls, … err, black bikini doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

I noticed in the changing room, but I decided to swim anyway. So basically, all the places that I had carefully hidden the henna tattoos (well, almost all!) were visible.

Everyone stared at me, but only one person spoke to me, and I wished he hadn’t. He reminded me of Allen in too many ways. At least he didn’t fuck, pluck, … snap my straps. He was a bible-basher, and told me off, both for my indecent bikini, as well as my tattoos, which he considered vile and heretical. He was the manager of the leisure center. Fortunately, I had finished my laps first.

I dismembered him, … um, canceled my membership. (I would have liked to dismember him, actually.)

It was a warm evening, so I sat on the back porch sleeping/reading/daydreaming, and yes, I found myself out on the prowl. I decided to stretch my metaphysical legs, perhaps to see how far I could go. It was interesting that once I was out of sight from my body, I could still see it, much the way I think Tommy can see me at all times.

After I had walked a block, I found a little man sitting on a bench by the corner.

“Lovely evening,” he said. When I called him a little man, I didn’t mean like a gnome or anything silly. He was a small wiry man, probably in his 70’s, with a beard and gray hair. I don’t know how to say this any other way, but he was beautiful, while not being particularly handsome.

And he was completely naked.

“Yes it is,” I replied, trying to be casual.

“Have a seat, beautiful,” he said, patting the bench next to him. That was why I had to use the word beautiful to describe him.

“That’s a little forward,” I said, but I sat down next to him anyway.

His cock … ugh, … He cocked his head and shrugged, “It’s true. Why not say it? Nobody else can hear us. Is this your first time?”

“No, but I’ve only been doing this for a week or so.”

“We have lots to discuss,” he said, but didn’t continue.

“And that is what?” I asked.

“We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. We can’t discuss the mysteries of the universe and not know each other’s names.”

“I’m Ezzie,” I replied.

“No you aren’t,” he said.

“I’m Gaia Esmeralda Dryer.”

“That’s better. I like that name – your mythological connection. I’m Thaddeus Whitworth Jones.”

“Thad Jones?”

He laughed. “Not the jazz musician. I’m usually called Thaddeus, although in school, I was called Zeus.”

“Ironically, I suspect.”

“Of course.”

“Can I fly?” I asked, jumping right in with my questions.

“You can do anything you want to,” he replied. “It just takes practice. You have to be careful, though. You don’t want to abandon your body too long. You, especially.”


“You leave it vulnerable to the demon that follows it.”

“But it is protected.”

“I know,” he answered. “You can’t know how strong the protection is until it is breached. The further you are away from it, the weaker the protection.”

“How far is too far?”

“Only you can know that. My body needs no protection, but at my age, leaving it too long makes it vulnerable to dying. That is why we can’t talk now. We will meet again soon, perhaps in the flesh, perhaps not. Did I tell you you were beautiful? Why, yes I did. You are, you know.”

“You are, too,” I replied.

He chuckled.

“When will I see you again?”

“I’ll come find you. Don’t worry. I’d better go.”

And he was gone. And so was I, back in my body. Poof!

Lots to think about.

Planet Ezzie (13. The Turn of the Tide?)

8 of DISKS. Prudence.

It implies the skillful manipulation of physical material, with prudent thoughts and wisdom coordinating them. Apparently, it can mark the turn of the tide.

I don’t know how that helps me. My problems are on the spiritual plane. I have a ss- … suc- … one of those beings clinging onto me in spirit form and a neighbor boy who can see my only defense against said spiritual creature, and therefore see all of me, i.e. naked, at all times. He says my henna glows various colors, depending on my emotions. We still haven’t discussed which colors mean what.

I gave Tommy a hand- … no, a ki- … it will come eventually … a hug … erg, a lesson today. While his mother was answering the telephone, he told me I was a unicorn. His mother was off the phone quickly, so we were back to work before he could explain himself, and I was soon back home with my head in a vice … um, spin. What aspect of me is a unicorn? I’m not virginous – quite the opposite. Did he mean I was rare or unique?

I have learned not to question him too much. He has an ancient head on pubescent shoulders.

An interesting unmarked package came in the mail today. It was a bathing costume … suit, that is. (Sorry, I fell back into my Englishness.) It was a strange choice for me, a one-lice, uh, one-piece suit, pink with two unicorns on it.

Pink is so NOT my color. It makes my pale skin look even paler. I tried it on and it fit perfectly, almost better than some things I’ve picked for myself. I left it on for over an hour. I don’t know why. It must be time for me to venture out to the pool again, which I’ve pretty much avoided, since last time it netted me Allen. I’ve been running on a sore ankle for a while, so maybe some time in the pool would be beneficial.

Tommy flushed me out with his flashlight again. His parents were out, and the sitter had put them to bed and was fast asleep on the sofa. He’d caught me in the middle of changing, and I hoped that my crimson satin bathrobe was enough to hide the fact that I was commando – just a t-shirt and the robe. If he can see through my clothes, can he also see the clothes? I didn’t blink, kink … think to ask him.

He didn’t say anything at first. I waited. There was no point asking him something. He would say what he wanted to say when he wanted to say it. He sat down with his back to the fence, knees up against his chest. He was in his pajamas. Was 13 too old for Spiderman pj’s? There was clearly something eating at him.

I leaned over the fence, to look down at him, but he didn’t look up. Eventually, I turned and sat against the fence too, not right behind him, but enough to the side that I could see him through links of the fence. Did he notice that my lip .. straw … strap had caught in the fence when I turned, untying my robe? There wasn’t much to see, had he even looked.

Why do I obsess on him seeing me nude? He sees me nude all the time, whether I am or not! I really should avoid him.

“Dad’s interviewing for a job in California,” he said, finally.

“Is it a good job?” I asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Do you think he’ll get it?”


“Why are you worrying about it?” I asked.

“You need me here,” he replied, after a pause. “You’ll be lost.”

“I already am,” I said.

“A unicorn is magical,” he said, after another brief pause. “You need protection.”

I snorted, not at the second part – he was right about that – but the first part. “Magical? You’re kidding.” If anyone was magical, it was him.

“Look at me,” he said.

I had to blink to believe it. I was sitting on his side of the fence. “How did you do that?” I asked.

“You did it,” he explained. “You do it without even noticing. You are in- and outside of your body at the same time. Look behind you.”

I was leaning against myself, sitting on the other side of the fence. “Which is real? I asked.

“Both.” He didn’t explain. “Only one is visible,” he added, letting that set in.

“Which one?”

“Depends on who’s looking.” He fell silent again.

“Who does …” I paused. “Who does she see?”

“The one behind you. You are free.”

He stood abruptly and started to walk towards the house.

It was only when I stood to follow, that I realized that this me wasn’t dressed. “Wait!” I hissed.

Tommy didn’t look around. “Pamela is awake. I need to be inside.” He ran. I didn’t miss that he said “be” inside, rather than “go” inside. In a second he was gone. Had he vanished, or was I too wrapped up in myself?

I couldn’t follow. I didn’t know what to do. I was separated from my body, which was still sitting against the fence. I was free. There was no henna on this body, and I knew my hair was brown again. How far could I go away from my Earthly body? I walked as far as their pool and sat on the edge. They hadn’t started covering it at night yet. I could feel the cool water on my legs. Could my magical body take a swim? The answer was yes. Would that make a noise? I couldn’t know, but hearing Tommy’s parent’s car come up the drive, I leapt out of the water … and …

Did I fly? I didn’t have time to experiment. I started to run, but before I could go anywhere, I was back in my body on the other side of the fence. I didn’t move. Certainly, that body would make a sound. I sat there frozen until Pamela had left and Tommy’s parents had turned out the lights.

Now, I’m back in my bed, having shed the robe and t-shirt. It’s not the same as the freedom I felt outside. The henna, of course, reminds me of my mistress … my … my chains.

Planet Ezzie (10. Moonshine)

XVIII. The Moon.

Illusion, fear, anxiety, subconscious, intuition

I’m afraid.

The Rite of Spring went extremely well – too well. It was savage and violent. I could feel Beatrice stirring as the Chosen One danced herself to death, and I confess that I was well lubricated by the end of all three performances, marinating in my own juices. Beatrice is the destroyer, and she is destroying me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so horny.

If it was just the urge, I could handle it, but the conductor for the concert was David Henshl, a young English conductor that I’ve fancied since he conducted us last year. He’s also conducting a Bruckner Symphony next weekend.

And thanks to Beatrice tinkering with my biological clock, he’s noticed me. I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night. I should have refused. Fuck! That’s exactly what Beatrice wants, and he won’t know what hit him.

Tonight’s dream was me, bathing (naked, as usual) in a pool filled with honey, with David conducting me from the diving board, bare-chested. I woke up around 1 am, and couldn’t fall back to sleep. And now Tommy is signalling me with his flashlight. Time to throw up … um, some clothes on.


Putting some clothes on just to go to the end of the garden to have sex … eek … converse with someone who sees right through them (and through me, I think) seems like an anathema, but what if his parents woke and came out to see what he was doing? The new symbols apparently make me even brighter and clearer to him, and they change color according to my mood. He sensed my fear.

He touched me.

He didn’t need to speak. As I rested my hands on the chain-link fence, placed his hand on mine. Could he see my tears?

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” I whispered.

“What are your options?” he asked.

“I can remove the henna, and submit to her,” I replied, “or I keep fighting until we find a solution to this problem.” Submitting, of course, had some advantages: regular sex, a long life as a twenty year old, a brood of children (all girls). “I feel like I am losing already.”

“You won’t win every battle,” he said, “but you can win the war. Always look for the big picture.”

He kissed my hand and went back inside. I slumped to the ground up against the fence, and cried for about an hour. I am a fifty-something disguised in a 20-year-old body. He is a wise ancient inhabiting a 13-year-old. I don’t understand.

It’s past 3 am now. His touch eased my fear, but what compromise is going to be required of me? I find that disturbing on one level, but I can feel myself … falling … asleep.