Third Eye Blind
Namaste, my friend. We welcome you to our little refuge, why don´t you stay a while and listen?
Here, have a drink and enjoy the atmosphere. Be encouraged to discover yourself. Exercise your relaxation – rely only on your inner resources. Radically express yourself. No one other than the individual or a truely collaborative group can determine its content. It is offered as a gift to others. In this spirit, the giver and the recipients should respect the rights and liberties of one another.
Respect the environment. Leave no traces. See these tote-bags? Handmade, out of 100% recycled paper twine. Sustainability and awareness are fundamental. Strive to produce, promote and protect social networks, public spaces, works of art, and methods of communication that support such interaction.
Close your eyes, and be guided by your very inner third eye, allowing you to see your true self. Your spirit is the core of your foundation. It is a haven of tranquility and is not to be disrupted. Feel the universal experience, don´t perpetuate the silent epidemic by using your voice for anything but compassionate words.
That sound? Be engulfed by it until it beats to the rhythm of your heart. Seek to overcome any barriers that stand between you and a recognition of your inner self, tune into the reality of the sounds around you and let them help you find contact with the natural world.
Be who you want to be – be free in your skin, be liberated and feel beautiful and do without judgement. You don´t need to explain or justify your feelings. Just trust your inner self, because it is sure to know what’s best for the true you.
Share this story of your inner journey with the community. You will be heared, you will be seen, you will be loved. But first of all: love yourself as who you are.
Do your thing, stay safe, respect one other and have fun.
She’s always talking this new age bullshit. First it’s about her chakras, then my aura then next thing you know she’s not answering my questions and she’s rubbing two fingers between her eyes humming something about her third eye. I mean, she’s hot as hell, I don’t mind listening to her but I just can’t get behind it all. It’s so fucking all over the place. You know, it’s like – sure I get you’re sensitive and all that, but fucking hell meet me half way or something, you know?
Yeah, we met at Shambala, but at that point I thought the whole woodland fairy vibe was pretty cool. Then again I have no idea what I was on or how much of it, but whatever – she looked fucking magic. That long hair, the glow in the dark body paint and those like Indian face jewels all over – she looked sick. Even when she hitched a ride back to Canmore with us and we were all covered in dirt and sweat and probably piss from the weekend I thought she looked amazing, we were really vibing on each other despite the fucking harsh come down. But now, she’s still staying with me, apparently until she sorts her shit out back in Nelson but as far as I can tell she’s not sorting anything out, she’s not doing anything at all really, other than making a fucking mess and freaking my parents out. She lights all these fucking candles and then leaves the house and then I get home from work to this fucking waxy incense shop dripping all over the carpet, and if I say something to her about it – even just like, “make sure you blow them out before you go, baby,” she just smiles and tells me I have to learn to trust. She says it in this way that’s like – not just trust her but like TRUST, the universe or something – which is all fine and well when the worst thing that could happen to you is loosing your backpack, but like, I don’t really want to come round to the idea of just accepting that my house burnt down because the universe says so. Not to mention man, every time my brother sees us out long boarding he yells “die hippie scum” from the car which yeah, isn’t a totally new thing, but still she’s definitely not helping my case.
I mean, you’d just think, given all that charka aura bullshit she might be a bit sensitive to how awkward this living situation already is – but actually she seems fucking oblivious to it – bitching about processed food but then rolling a fat spliff and sitting her ass down on the couch – the couch I paid for, and watching Netflix which I pay for, and eating a whole fucking stack of Pringles, which yeah, I also obviously also paid for. Plus, she breezes right over the documentary section and hits up fucking True Blood and shit too, I mean, what’s that about? How does that fit into her mantra or whatever, her big sensitive understanding of the universe? It just seems like such a fucking contradiction. Plus I don’t even know where she keeps getting this weed from when she apparently has no cash. I mean, it’s nice having some around but I think she like hot boxes the bath room every morning, cuz she sure as hell is in there long enough using up all the hot water and she sure as fuck doesn’t smell like she’s showered in a while. And like, first thing in the morning – common’ man – no wonder you can’t get anything done. Yeah try saying something to her about that, “get done, Sam, what exactly do you mean by get done?” she always responds all smug and sure of herself, and I mean, I don’t want to come off as a total insensitive dick by saying what I really think which is obviously, “I don’t know – anything?! Or how about getting out of here, figuring out what the hell you’re doing?!” so in the end I always say something stupid like, “I just mean, finding out what drives you, what makes you feel truly enriched”. God if only you could see the way she floats towards me when I say something like that, holding some serious eye contact, like she’s in a trance about to say something she really means, and then it’s like “cancer spirit, you are my protector”. I mean, seriously?
And then the other fucking weekend she like convinces me to go to this fucking full moon party at Spray Lakes – I have to drive, obviously, she’s too ripped already – not that I would want her driving my car anyway, but whatever. So yeah, this is her fucking thing, I mean, I love a good bon fire but this is some supernatural network of fucking freaks – either I’ve never seen any of these people in my life, which is pretty hard to imagine around here, or I don’t recognize them through the sweaty face paint and flaming poi going on everywhere. I’m sober as fuck and totally out of my element and it’s like everyone here is on the same level and I’m not even close or capable of getting there. And, of course, right away before I’ve even locked the fucking car she’s like right in the thick of it and I can’t make her out from all the other gyrating spiritual fucks and I just want to get back in the car and drive home but I feel some sort of bullshit responsibility to her; like I can’t abandon her, even though I didn’t want to come in the first place and she’s obviously got no problem abandoning me. So I’m moping around like a fucking loser and eventually I decided to just sit myself near the fire, thinking at least if I just stare into the flames maybe anyone who notices me will just think I’m tripping and leave me too it. Obviously within like three minutes I had to turn down several joints, a hit of acid and two fucking back massages but then I guess that made it pretty clear that I wasn’t up for it and mostly people just left me alone. Then fucking sure enough I get a glimpse of her through the flames and she’s totally naked in the lake with this fucking Jesus dude. I can’t be sure but man I swear we haven’t been here for more than half an hour and already she’s got her legs wrapped around the waist of this long haired fucking saint and they’re both screaming something at the moon that everyone else seems to understand while I’m like, once again just not getting it. So I just figure that’s enough, and grab the eyes of this other fairy babe who offered me the acid before. I guess I’m not that bad at this whole vibes thing cuz right away she stopped rearranging the rocks in the circle around her, got up and floated towards me. Without saying anything I leaned my head back and looked up at her standing over me, she was fucking hot, then I closed my eyes and she placed her two fingers on my third eye or whatever and moved them around in a slow circle til’ I opened my mouth wide and stuck my tounge out. Soon enough I felt her pressing the the blotter against my tounge with her tounge, and she held it there til’ it dissolved and we dropped the same hit of acid together, just like that man. Fucking magic.
Amy Ball, October 2016
on the occasion of her show „The Third Eye“ (14.10.-30.10.2016) at MÉLANGE