webnography

When it called the moon scampered behind the blanket of the sky, the earth shook off the dusty dull, and I raised my throat upward to the breeze. In the midst of this apocalypse we were rising up to meet the tidal wave of the shuddering ocean. It looked as though the blood would wash out the water, to strangle the father the son and the daughter. Wait Wait! What is more, what is seeing but believing in the images of things? Things, colors, static, the faceless background noise of the mind. The minds of some unraveled beyond and found redemption there. They sang a song, a strange song without a word and all we heard was a humming hiss. I rose up from the grass and deposited this like many lovely shadows falling all around without a sound. I thought they would injure all they touched but instead they were gentle and softer and hushed.

The Counselor Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in reaching their goals, and directive and introverted in their interpersonal roles. Counselors focus on human potentials, think in terms of ethical values, and come easily to decisions. The small number of this type (little more than 2 percent) is regrettable, since Counselors have an unusually strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others and genuinely enjoy helping their companions. Although Counsleors tend to be private, sensitive people, and are not generally visible leaders, they nevertheless work quite intensely with those close to them, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes with their families, friends, and colleagues. This type has great depth of personality; they are themselves complicated, and can understand and deal with complex issues and people.

Counselors can be hard to get to know. They have an unusually rich inner life, but they are reserved and tend not to share their reactions except with those they trust. With their loved ones, certainly, Counselors are not reluctant to express their feelings, their face lighting up with the positive emotions, but darkening like a thunderhead with the negative. Indeed, because of their strong ability to take into themselves the feelings of others, Counselors can be hurt rather easily by those around them, which, perhaps, is one reason why they tend to be private people, mutely withdrawing from human contact. At the same time, friends who have known a Counselor for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that they are inconsistent; Counselors value their integrity a great deal, but they have intricately woven, mysterious personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.

Counselors have strong empathic abilities and can become aware of another’s emotions or intentions — good or evil — even before that person is conscious of them. This “mind-reading” can take the form of feeling the hidden distress or illnesses of others to an extent which is difficult for other types to comprehend. Even Counselors can seldom tell how they came to penetrate others’ feelings so keenly. Furthermore, the Counselor is most likely of all the types to demonstrate an ability to understand psychic phenomena and to have visions of human events, past, present, or future. What is known as ESP may well be exceptional intuitive ability-in both its forms, projection and introjection. Such supernormal intuition is found frequently in the Counselor, and can extend to people, things, and often events, taking the form of visions, episodes of foreknowledge, premonitions, auditory and visual images of things to come, as well as uncanny communications with certain individuals at a distance.

—

bull,but.interesting.bull

The answer only ever asked a question:
Anyone might be a miracle continuously reborn into cupped hands, however might all but an iota spill over would it seem love-soaked, or tragically,magically never nothing or something?
These gestures may be drowned, but they are all I have.
Do I de-exist?

I say no.
I say no to throwing my shoulder to the dust, to what-ifs and how-coulds and make-believes. I say no to my haunted dreams. I say no to my tired, taut shaking body and to the anguish of fear.
I hold dear to what is real and to this brief crackle of wet thunder.

A movement toward home, or toward softer sound waves? We left the words dripping wet on the line, their throats full of tears, and then we left them out to dry. They dried and malingered while the room burned with the heat of stars. Do they mean anything once they’ve dried?

Do I burn better by your side?

Can it exist without this enormous gravity?

I stand uncertain.

And still.

(I believe I prefer you)