Interpreter

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You are an interpreter of the language of energy.

My channeled message from Oliver this Sunday evening.

Great! Good. Super… Now what? What the hell am I suppose to do with that? Then I heard the final stanza of the lyrics from the Pink FLoyd song, Breathe; a track that had just begun running in the background on YouTube… Yes, one that simply played on its own.


starts at 4:11 and continues to end at 9:59

I was listening to a playlist called Oliver (hidden – sorry) I have on one of my YouTube channels, and it skipped from Sting’s A Thousand Years, mid-play, to Pink Floyd’s Breathe, one that isn’t on a single playlist of mine. Moments before the skip I got the channeled message above, and I just thought, Here we go. Give me something here… I’m just lost. And, “here” was at 4:11 into the song. Then I heard: Home. Home again. And, I knew… clarity was about to be revealed.

Artist: Pink Floyd
Album: Dark Side of the Moon
Track: Breathe in the Air. Great Gig in the Sky
Release Date: 3/1/1973 *

* There’s that year again! 1973! What is with 1973? I JUST wrote an article about that yesterday called, It’s 1973. As Pink Floyd says in another of their songs from the Dark Side of the Moon album… I have become ‘Comfortably Numb.’

~~~~~ — ~~~~~ – ~~~~~ — ~~~~~
The full lyrics go something like this…

Breathe, breathe in the air
Don’t be afraid to care
Leave, but don’t leave me
Look around, choose your own ground
Long you live and high you fly
And smiles you’ll give and tears you’ll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be

Run, rabbit run
Dig that hole, forget the sun
And when at last the work is done
Don’t sit down, it’s time to dig another one
For long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide
And balanced on the biggest wave
You race towards an early grave.

Home. Home again.
I like to be here when I can.
And when I come home cold and tired.
It’s good to warm my bones beside the fire.
Far away across the fields
Tolling on the island bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
And hear the softly spoken magic spell

(spoken under the music)
And I’m not afraid of dying
Any time will do
I don’t mind
Why should I be frightened of dying
There’s no reason for it
You’ve gotta go sometime

Written by David Jon Gilmour, Richard Wright, Roger Waters • Copyright © T.R.O. Inc.

First funny thing here is that when I went in search of the lyrics so I could simply link to them, I found that NOT ONE SINGLE SITE hosting them had that final stanza – the one starting with Home! Search yourself! I recommend it, if only to verify for yourself that I’m forthright in my rendition. Now that’s fuckin’ crazy – especially when you are me and understand the hidden meaning for you alone in each and every Fn line!!

So, there it was, my message from Oliver. A continuation of the channeled exchange. Yes, I was… scratch that. I AM an interpreter of the language of energy. I understood what was being said in the final segment of Breathe and know now what I am to say to you herein; but before I do…


Our house on Long Island | Street view | Photo credit: unknown
Taken b4 we moved in, in 1998. And… that’s the window
I was singing from. 2nd floor. Viewer’s left corner.

The second funny thing with the odd presentation of this track is it is one of my favorite vocals to sing, from that era – made famous by Clare Torry – especially when I was drunk or high. Though I’m sure I actually sang less well, I always thought my cords improved in an altered state. That part of the attraction begins a 6:11 if any of you wish to sing along with me. And, of course as I was contemplating what all this home talk meant, I belted out that section from the 2nd story of my home office, windows fully open, under the cover of after midnight ET US; laughing because I knew how odd it would be if someone was driving by with their vehicle windows down, or out walking their dog that last time before retiring to dreams of 3D Monday and hearing this “voice” bellowing out from the darkness. But I didn’t care. Don’t care. I love to sing, and since most folks think our house is haunted anyway, being that it was built in 1876, I just closed the blinds to let ’em think what they probably already did, that a banshee is inside chopping up the remains of the bloody day.

I did think of my son and daughter-in-law for about 3 seconds, but with my fan on, their windowed air conditioning unit running, and the deep, after acrobatic sextivity slumber they’d fallen into I had no worries of waking them. Besides… it did me good to release some of the crazy other worldly energy that comes over me at times like this.

I gotta be honest here. Being this “translator” has its ups and downs. I feel a kind of “Come closer. No! Go away! Wait! Come closer. No! Go away…” sorta feel to it. The grass was greener in my already crazy world before Oliver entered. Now, sometimes, it just feels like bridges open before me and as I step on and move forward the structure crumbles away just behind each step I take. Allowing me forward movement with no retreat. It can be disconcerting. But I move on. What choice do I have?

So, what’s the follow up to Oliver’s channeled message?

I am here with you. WE are always here with you. Happy. Sad. Hungry. Tired. We are always here with you. The water flowing. The fire burning. The earth supporting. The air turning. You are forever free, without end – reminded with each toll of the bell to wish, to see, to breathe. To be.

Something like that…

 

 

 

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