Website review: Undlela zimhlope - African Dream Ro...
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Klassy discovered 7 weeks ago- This plant, I strongly recommend for those open to experiment with dreams, divination and stoichiometry. "Indigenous to the verdant river valleys of the eastern cape province of South Africa, this obsure flowering species is regarded by Xhosa diviners as a sacred plant with the ability to induce remarkably vivid and prophetic dreams. Xhosa shamans regard the plant as a type of "Ubulawu" or medicinal root that they call "Undela Ziimhlophe," which translates literally as "white paths" or white ways." An eleborate river-based myth enshrines the plant and describes in detail the experience of those who are called to walk the "white path" to become diviners. Initiation rites involve partaking in a frothy brew made from the ground roots which allows initiates to travel a dream realm "under the river." There exists very little documentation of the pharmacology of Silene capensis. It is suspected that its oneirongenic, or dream-inducing activity is likely due to triterpenoid saponins contained within its roots. Relatively small amounts of root (250 mg range) are reported to be active. The plant exerts only minimal alterations in waking consciousness, yet the effects upon the dream state can be profound. Silene capensis is a tender perennial which prefers moist locations and sandy soil. It will do well in the garden with regular watering and also makes a fine night-blooming container specimen." Purchase i. About my dream. I think if I morph so-and-so and so-and-so in a machine, I may achieve Green-Eyededness. The eyebrows furrowed. Deep meaning. The frown, all-knowing. Vague melancholy. Wishing to heal. To take care of. To wrap around. Put hand on back. Place hand in hand. Silent understanding. "I am not sure I approve of your gesture but I am powerless and will accept all warmth, and even cruelty." And so you warm up. And warm up. "I invite you in. You are allowed everything. Anything. Smiles, laughter, a slap in the face, tears, a punch in the stomach, kisses." And surprisingly, the Hazel-Eyed looks over, but fears not. There is dreamy polyamory. All the crowd rushes towards the perpendicular edge. Some take the shortcut in the moving maroons. Feet dig beneath but not deep -- it is no sand, this ground. I am in awe. I jump into the carriage. Green-Eyed gone, but left a missive. Handed to me by the Forgotten. I take it betwixt my fingers. See nameblurs. Valley field? In dreamlogic it explains the lone tree. The quiet river, the black & white, the sinuous road grazing the mountain. My desire to stop, to hug and reveal. It is a thank you for the warmth given. So. Thank you. You can have it. But I cannot have it. I smile. The phone never rings. The letters never come. No words come. And I sigh. Let me dream, let me dream, so little I dream, so little I dream. ii. There is the right way, and then there is left. I bet you will take the right. It is in your nature to take that which isn't yours. I am not talking to you. By acknowledging the un-you, I may have given you a voice. There is avoidance with great care. Hardcore déjà-vu. Let's have an embrace of a thousand miles. I will be the little silver beads. There are angels, and then there are demons. We may as well go with the demons. But you choose angels. You chose the Angel. iii. Making a dress out of gossamer with thin straps. I hooked the Please onto the Let me, I made a chain-link covered in secrets. Curled up and hid under your cloak. Unseen, unheard. Moved with your moves, my arms on your arms, my hands on your hands. Feeling like the second layer to your skin, the one that keeps you warm, the one that allowed you glide effortlessly into the night. The feeling of being more of me with more of you, with the unlearning of lessons -- and the dismissal of retreat. Quiet. Ssh. Ssh. iv. You will never have to see me again. I am waking up. And then I woke up. Who are you really?
- This plant, I strongly recommend for those open to experiment with dreams, divination and stoichiometry. "Indigenous to the verdant river valleys of the eastern cape province of South Africa, this obsure flowering species is regarded by Xhosa diviners as a sacred plant with the ability to induce remarkably vivid and prophetic dreams. Xhosa shamans regard the plant as a type of "Ubulawu" or medicinal root that they call "Undela Ziimhlophe," which translates literally as "white paths" or white ways." An eleborate river-based myth enshrines the plant and describes in detail the experience of those who are called to walk the "white path" to become diviners. Initiation rites involve partaking in a frothy brew made from the ground roots which allows initiates to travel a dream realm "under the river." There exists very little documentation of the pharmacology of Silene capensis. It is suspected that its oneirongenic, or dream-inducing activity is likely due to triterpenoid saponins contained within its roots. Relatively small amounts of root (250 mg range) are reported to be active. The plant exerts only minimal alterations in waking consciousness, yet the effects upon the dream state can be profound. Silene capensis is a tender perennial which prefers moist locations and sandy soil. It will do well in the garden with regular watering and also makes a fine night-blooming container specimen." Purchase i. About my dream. I think if I morph so-and-so and so-and-so in a machine, I may achieve Green-Eyededness. The eyebrows furrowed. Deep meaning. The frown, all-knowing. Vague melancholy. Wishing to heal. To take care of. To wrap around. Put hand on back. Place hand in hand. Silent understanding. "I am not sure I approve of your gesture but I am powerless and will accept all warmth, and even cruelty." And so you warm up. And warm up. "I invite you in. You are allowed everything. Anything. Smiles, laughter, a slap in the face, tears, a punch in the stomach, kisses." And surprisingly, the Hazel-Eyed looks over, but fears not. There is dreamy polyamory. All the crowd rushes towards the perpendicular edge. Some take the shortcut in the moving maroons. Feet dig beneath but not deep -- it is no sand, this ground. I am in awe. I jump into the carriage. Green-Eyed gone, but left a missive. Handed to me by the Forgotten. I take it betwixt my fingers. See nameblurs. Valley field? In dreamlogic it explains the lone tree. The quiet river, the black & white, the sinuous road grazing the mountain. My desire to stop, to hug and reveal. It is a thank you for the warmth given. So. Thank you. You can have it. But I cannot have it. I smile. The phone never rings. The letters never come. No words come. And I sigh. Let me dream, let me dream, so little I dream, so little I dream. ii. There is the right way, and then there is left. I bet you will take the right. It is in your nature to take that which isn't yours. I am not talking to you. By acknowledging the un-you, I may have given you a voice. There is avoidance with great care. Hardcore déjà-vu. Let's have an embrace of a thousand miles. I will be the little silver beads. There are angels, and then there are demons. We may as well go with the demons. But you choose angels. You chose the Angel. iii. Making a dress out of gossamer with thin straps. I hooked the Please onto the Let me, I made a chain-link covered in secrets. Curled up and hid under your cloak. Unseen, unheard. Moved with your moves, my arms on your arms, my hands on your hands. Feeling like the second layer to your skin, the one that keeps you warm, the one that allowed you glide effortlessly into the night. The feeling of being more of me with more of you, with the unlearning of lessons -- and the dismissal of retreat. Quiet. Ssh. Ssh. iv. You will never have to see me again. I am waking up. And then I woke up. Who are you really?
