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May 17th 2026, the night of Adhika Chandra Darshana, the night of Rosh Chodesh, the night before Du'l Hijja, 11 Cuauhtli of Coatl.

I went to the woods to pray.

A name I had never heard echoed in my head, as the name Gabriel had echoed in my mother's years before, both of us in the wake of our parents deaths. It was this name that brought be outside to pray. I knew I needed to go to the woods in the south, but I would need to climb the steep hill and walk blind into the dark woods. So, I sat in the field east from my house and listened to a singing dog. She bit me once but she doesn't remember. I forgive her, im good at that. She sang to me things ive only dreamed about saying and a freedom I'd never imagined. Then she sang me up the hill. By the sole light of my candle, facing the unrisen sun, I cried out to the Creator and mover of all things. i give myself to you. i give you my mind, my body, my hands. speak through me and tell the story. the people and planet are dying. so many have already died. I believe you breathe with me and I believe all life on this planet is family. tell me how can I help stop this? I felt my father in the smoke and vodka. I blew out a cloud an poured a stream for him. He prefered tequila, but I wanted to drink with him. I felt comfort in the sharp warmth.

Transitioning beings one line with the dao, where the male and the female will come to look the same. God is niether male nor female. What was adam before eve was split? Were we all not all the same before birth? We see the divine union of opposites happening.

Reading and Watch list

• Freshwater:Akwaeke Emezi
• medical engineering
• marine biology
• lingulistics

7 Ollin, Ozomahtli, Tochtli

Yesterday was All Saints Day. I thought of Frida, so much like me and my beloved, and Joan, so much alike but so different. She was a warrior prophet, a saint, vistited by Micheal and burned alive. In the middle ages they would burn cats alive for entertainment for the Festival of Saint Paul. Saint Patrick gave reading to the Irish, but stole a part of their culture upon their conversion. Christianity has done as much harm as good. Hospitals, scripture of anti wealth hoarding and generosity. Catholic missionaries wiped out my indigious anscestors language and culture. I will construct my hair cape. I should have kept my Dad's hair.

When my parents drove through a snow storm with my mother in labor with me, a bobcat ran across the road. This was the only time my dad saw a bobcat, and the first time my mom saw one. The bobcat is usually an omen in the southwest and example of bad behavior in the northwest, but it is possible that the Waicura, my mother ancestors, saw them as talented hunters, or mysterious psychopomps. I'll never know.

I will never know their songs, or their dances, or the names of intermediate powers they used to speak to the divine. Was there a spider like in my dreams, coyotes like my mother's, or orcas and manta rays like the cochimi rock art? What birds are painted? Parrots or Crows? Does a daimon cat haunt me since my birth? Or was it my bisabuelo's mansalughter?

I am reconstructing the language for prayer.

You must READ. You must WRITE. You must LEARN. Or you relinquish the gift of logos granted to you and animals like you.

I wanted to give up weed for the apostles fast, but I read that is not typical and you need to discuss with a church father to decide what to do. I do not wish to be dictated by someone I do not know. I bow to no earthly authority

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