There’s a place one hour from me, I used to live there year ago, and now only go back there when I’m in hospice( psych ward, I have bipolar ). But lately the past few months I’ve been driving there three times a week.Its a beach/ anniversary expanse, countless suburbs in this region, and the only time I’m indeed glad is when I’m there.There is just this suggestive spirit over the whole area.Im so drawn to it.I never feel this way about any other place.All the highest mystic know-hows I’ve had have been there, every man I’ve ever fall in love with has been from there, I satisfy them there, never have I fallen in love with anyone not from there.
The recent trips last week, every time I got there I would realise the same car in different outskirts, different eras, it’s numberplate is 666, and it’s has a bumper sticker that says 333, written half as evil underneath.This is strange because I had a dream of my grandmother year ago where she was wearing a ring that says 333 carved into it.I remember maybe that’s the triple goddess or something perhaps? But all I’m saying is this place is incredibly sacred to me, and I often cry when I’m there because it’s so overwhelming, and thank the aboriginal feels of the place for wreaking me there.
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