Tales from a dead shaman
GO FIGHTING WHITIES!!!!
(Hee hee… it’s about fucking time!!!)
Sometime in 1995, I was half asleep, in my apartment in Maspeth, Queens, with the spirit of a Massapequadi Shaman sitting on my bed telling me a story….
Not that this is anything out of the ordinary. We had the landlord’s dead mother in law there all the time too (She loved us. We took turns torturing the assholes upstairs.). And I’m sure this kind of stuff happens to you guys too (’cuz you’re a bunch of pschizophrenic fruitcakes!). But I thought the story was cool, and I have nothing better to post, and it’s been on my mind for two weeks now for some reason.
The story begins thousands of years ago, with a ferocious, unstoppable beast roaming the land… devouring everything (or anyone) in his path.
Tribal hunters were commissioned to go out there, intercept the creature, and protect their villages… But the beast was too smart to ever become “the hunted”, and they all met their horrible fates, along with their villages.
Well, it was ruled by the Great Spirit that there would be nothing left on the earth if this beast was to continue in its path of destruction. He broke one of his own rules, and stepped in.
The beast was split to form other creatures. His massive size and strength became the bear; his cunning became the fox, and his never–ending appetite became the wolf.
It has been also said the spirit of this indominable creature returns to take on other forms, and it was prohesized one day that he would take on the form of a human, the species he hated most, and usher mankind into a new era of light, or darkness… whatever he chooses it to be.
What is any of this supposed to mean?
Hell if I know. But it was a cool story, wasn’t it?
He also went on to tell me that early in the next (21st) century, I would meet a “Kelly Lewis” in another land, and this would be the person my “tortured soul” has searched for and my life would change.
Uhm… well, okay.
So, here I am, it’s the next century, I have indeed traveled to another land (”Pennsyl–fucking–Tucky”, as us Native New Yorkers like to call it.)… and I have heard of a “Kelly Lewis” too.
I, somehow, don’t think he (or his wife) would appreciate me sending him roses or chocolates, y’knowhutI’msaying?
So, if there is any kind of a moral to these stories… I guess it would be this:
Dead Indian Shamen, though I’m sure they’re really nice people, and they mean well… they don’t know everything, okay? Next time, I’ll ask for that night’s winning lottery numbers before I obsess on stuff for, like, eight years….
Is our life pre–planned in a universal grand scheme?
… Or do we control our own destiny?
…. Or am I a whackjob for talking to ghosts, and a closet case, ‘cuz I really think Kelly Lewis is a great guy, and has done some amazing stuff in the short time he’s been our State Rep?
Hell if I know.
March 13th, 2002 at 5:16 am
I think we control our own destiny, if it was pre–planned, who planned it?
I also think reincarnation might be possible, maybe your life was messed together with a previous life when that shaman was sitting on your bed. Maybe he was trying to bring a message from an earlier life.
The way the beast take a form as a human to lead people into light or darkness almost sounds like Lucifer’s return.
Alright, this is probably the fruitcake in me speaking ;o]
March 13th, 2002 at 6:54 am
We are all part of a grand scheme. Can’t imagine goin’ thru all this shit for naught..But anything is possible…Maybe I’m here for comic relief..Maybe I’m here to teach me a lesson from an earilier life..If so, I was one messed up MF’er…
March 13th, 2002 at 7:10 am
time in a bottle……..
March 13th, 2002 at 1:10 pm
Just wanted to thank you for the links on the Fighting Whities. I’ve been looking for more info on it without much luck.
–m
March 13th, 2002 at 1:29 pm
The River of Whispering Ghosts:
A Legend of the Western Prairies
Not far to the west of Calgary, almost in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains, runs the River of Whipering Ghosts. It’s not a big stream, but it has a histroy that will stick in your mind long after the memory of the river itself has faded.
The story is basically about how two lovers find their way to each other and meet at the river despite the battles going on between their people (sound familiar?).
Anyway, whether there is a plan layed out for us or not, it’s still our decisions that are gonna shape our lives. That’s my belief anyway. Ghost are whatever things or memories I choose to hold on to.
Wow, didn’t mean to get so serious on all of you. I need some food.
March 14th, 2002 at 7:26 am
I reckon you’re right on the ball there eric, ask for the lotto numbers next time ! and how about that whole Kelly thing, there you were innocently thinking ‘wow I’m gonna meet a cool chick’ only to quietly amused by who ‘Kelly’ actualy was ! oh well back to the bones.
March 14th, 2002 at 12:15 pm
Mmh, he didnīt say Kelly Lewis was a woman. So he was right! I think things might be pre– planned but itīs typically human to think if thereīs a plan then there must be someone who invented it. I think itīs just…there. Just take a look at the nature, everythingīs working fine and definitely as if someoneīs planned it, but it wasnīt really planned by a person or god. For the sense of life…I donīt think thereīs any. People waste their time searching for a sense in life and therefore miss all the good things. We should behave like animals (thatīs basically what we are, right?)! They live and donīt even think about it. I bet thatīs how itīs meant to be.
March 14th, 2002 at 7:03 pm
"there you were innocently thinking ‘wow I’m gonna meet a cool chick’ only to quietly amused by who ‘Kelly’ actualy was ! "
Well, uh… I’m a friggin moron. What else is new?
You know what? Gotta stop being a wuss! I’m gonna send him flowers & see if he calls… yeah, that’s it!