The Loosh Collectors Get The Upper Hand

She thought idly of the kiss. That one bit of romance that never comes in flesh and blood real time. She called physical reality real time even if nothing was really real.

Actually she mused that’s not as pessimistic as it sounds. It had been sheer revelation that nothing we said around here carried much weight, save that of the enlightened ones whose egos had been eaten up by the loosh collectors.

Yes, there were Loosh Collectors but even we couldn’t exactly say we’d met the Loosh Collectors and so we couldn’t scientifically establish their authenticity no more than we could establish our own authenticity. That’s why Earth was so fun; we could meander down any conversation path and the more we didn’t make sense, the more we laughed about it.

It was good to laugh. It relieved the tension of pure living. If you weren’t tense about something your spirit might fly away and have to be forced to return for unfinished business, what not.

How she hungered for romance so that in her younger years she even scared up some romance in her mind, making it as real as possible, defying the truth to set her straight. There really was no real romance; it was all in your head, and in the novels that sold so well because one weakness the human race had was the desire for splendor in the grass. Instead we got by on one night stands which seldom came awake when the sun came up. The sun always was the same; always truth-ing and being stark about it.

If it were true, and she did tend to believe it was true, that there were Loosh Collectors…then she swiftly lost the train of thought. It wasn’t something one wanted to think about exactly. The thought would return. Thoughts never leave their source for long. Nothing to worry about.

First to explain Loosh somewhat, it’s emotions. A human emotes emotions; especially at death but also when they fall in love, fall out of love, are experiencing danger, moments of courage, momentous decisions, you get the picture, we emoted some energy. It got collected. These emotions got collected. She hadn’t a clue what happened with the collections but suspected that’s what created reality here. Perhaps the collectors stored the energy. She had an idea or two to work on, but she still didn’t want to think a collector was standing by, bucket in hand for the next time she cried, which hadn’t been for ages. There was nothing to cry about if you knew you hadn’t done anything to cry about and your intentions were good.

What was being collected really was Love. Even when you were dying, it brought out the love in you. You either realized you loved your life, or you loved to get back to spirit life. You almost always had the most intense emotions surrounding your departure no matter what the circumstances. Make sure your Loosh organizer is nice. You wouldn’t want to waste something sacred on someone greedy and ungrateful after all. We have to face it sooner or later; most of us have died so many times we can’t count them, let alone remember details about all the deaths we’ve undergone.

Back to the kiss, then I’ll get back to the Loosh. It’s really all the same; just like the Beatles crooned; love really is all there is.

Romance for the astral traveler is a great way to produce Loosh because it’s partly reality and partly a fabrication party and we can spend an endless amount of time and energy figuring out which is which. Of course by the time we reach 4rth dimensional consciousness you don’t really give a shit. She just collected the memories without knowing what to do with them exactly. Let the Loosh Collectors figure it out, she decided.

On the one hand her would-be lover was giving it all he had and only meeting with her dead pan looks and on the other hand, because this is a polarity world, to say, yea, it’s duality and all that and to be expected, he would in Internet stride scare the shit out of her by slipping her a tune with the warning in it to not mess with him. No doubt, he was bad news, just reading his private posts was shocking.

She was most obliged to obey the warning but getting away from this character was like trying to get peanut butter off the roof of the mouth with no tongue. He was speaking out of both sides of his mouth but of course, you couldn’t prove it to him or he’d shout you down.

If it was indeed curiosity that killed the cat, then her curiosity about the man would surely do her in, but then if she was a cat, she still had a number of lives yet to indulge her curiosity in, and she felt incredibly lucky for some reason.

When the kiss occurred it came as a big surprise and I’m sure the Loosh Gatherers had quite a feast that day, or night, whichever it was in the ozone. When you were out for these brief spells, you didn’t notice what time it was. There was only the eternal now moment.

The man had been babbling away about nonsensical things as usual. He was in a talkative mood that time, unlike his usual silent self which was want to gesture or be short with words or even send a messenger because he himself was too busy to make a showing. She hated it when his clowns showed up in his stead. She wondered why he couldn’t come personally on more than one occasion, why and how he could just snap his fingers and somebody else would deliver the message. A couple of his messengers even had a bad attitude about what they were doing.

Once he’d even kidnapped her and plopped her sleeping body in his office on the floor, then rushed off to a commitment. She’d woken up, pissed off to have been removed from her warm bed and plopped on his floor, like she was supposed to wait for his return. What kind of date is this? She wondered and promptly woke up and flew back home. It was always a rude awakening with this one, it looked like.

This one romantic kiss did occur however and the Loosh moment got written in the stars and she knows it won’t happen again. Not like that. It was a doozy and not to be repeated. Out of Body experiences are seldom re-enacted, and that’s the whole point. If it was repeated, it might get boring somehow. At the least, she had produced a smidgeon of romance in the sky, and too bad she couldn’t film it and make money on the movie. It was the stuff best box seller movies are made of.

As I said, nothing he said made sense, not here, not there, not anywhere, except when he sang a song, then it all made sense. Of course, no wonder he was having a hard time on earth; you couldn’t go around singing all the time here, you usually had to have a stage to get up on, and then there was no guarantee you would be listened to word for word, or understood.

Not only was he babbling about whatever, things that didn’t really concern me much, but the man paced around in dreamland and wouldn’t stand still, wouldn’t look her in the eye and didn’t invite her speech, but he did seem to be trying to say something to her in all earnestness.

She was leaving. She knew she had to go. All this was too confusing to deal with. But first a kiss goodbye was in order. She did it for herself. It was her way of releasing angst, of keeping to the love part and dealing with the sorrow of realizing they were not soul mates, not even friends really. She really had made it all up. At least 50% of it. She approached him kind of slyly and felt she had to bend down in order to get eye contact. She wanted him to just shut up for a minute. She wanted something real to happen. He saw her face moving in to his..she aimed for the cheek and planted a soft, gentle kiss and finally at last their eyes met, not full on as hoped for, but one of his eyes saw her coming for him and took it all in without saying a word.

She smiled and in her mind she let the kiss talk for her. She was so gone, it was like she’d never arrived. She’d told him long ago that she’d rather leave while she was in love. He hadn’t wanted to hear that and had totally changed the subject pretending that those lyrics meant nothing to him, that they had no truth in them because he’d never sang them himself and he was looking for something different. He was always looking for a heart of gold.

Sadly, she knew she didn’t have a heart of gold. Her heart was just a muscle that she suspected was going to stop beating sometime soon but she didn’t want to talk about that before kicking up her heels a bit. She didn’t have time to get to know him, and some of the things he said hurt her heart. She was not who he thought she was and vice versa.

She started to back away and then he made a swift movement towards her literally sweeping her off her feet, landing a passionate kiss directly on her lips. She swooned and was on her back and gave in to the moment of passion. She sensed they had embraced before this a few times. When love was a big question without any conditions or expectations. All lovers lose the first glow sooner or later. Their love was to be a series of explosions, not unlike a collision of two energy forces. The dam Loosh collectors were practically drooling, holding out their empty buckets, there was nothing sacred to this world.

We gather experience on this planet. We gather our memories. Sometimes we love too hard, sometimes too weakly. Soon we begin to be grateful for what we had, not for what didn’t come true. Getting to the grateful part is difficult but not impossible. She hopes he’s gotten to that place like she has. In all your getting, she considers, get yourself some love, it’s not the same as romance, but very similar!