Decrescendo

           I went into the tent and took off my Nike shoes. White socks. Levi Jeans, polo shirt, and underwear and put on my loin cloth. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but they do pay well and believe it or not it works. They pay in diamonds and gold and I sell it at the local pawn shop. The loin cloth was a fitted sheet from Goodwill I cut to fit and a fucking safely pin. I'm hairy but they don't give a fuck. It works and that's all they care about. See, when there's drought, the tribe people can't grow their crops and their live stock eat the crops and they eat the live stock. And, again, it works or they wouldn't be giving me their gold and diamonds. So, I exit the tent/teepee (No, they're not Native Americans), and I sit on the ground. Remember, “Don't pray for the rain, pray rain”. I put both feet on the ground and place my back against a tree to get grounded with Mother Earth also called the first chakra or the first and second meridian. Now, grounded, a place my left hand face up by my stomach and my right hand face down by my heart. The people start cheering because they know this means I have the energy in my hands which mean it will rain soon. See, this energy is chai/chi/zhee. Whatever someone wants to call it. Then, I move the chai and concentrate the chai. It feels like electricity between my hands and I feel bubbles like Alcaseltzer on my hands. It's working. In about fifteen minutes of concentrating the chai, I look up and there are white clouds, which is stage one, which is good. I keep focusing and feeling the chai. Something feels weird though and my intuition tells me this is a bad time for rain. Bad time for rain? That doesn't make sense. The tribe's crops and dying because of drought. They're livestock is hungry, and they're hungry and rain will solve these problems.  So, I keep going. I focus on the lightening bolts I feel between my hands.   Small sparks, but powerful and my intuition says to stop. But, why? I have free will and want to keep going. I need money for food, rent, dates, kids. So, I ignore the intuition. 

           I feel the lightening in my hands get stronger and look up. The clouds are metamorphisizing into gray and black clouds, which is good. I keep focusing on the lightning between my hands, but again, hear, Stop. But, why? Why stop? Then, I start to feel the first few drizzles of rain and the people in front of me dance, sing, play on their hand drums, and drink their local juice. I feel a rain drop on my back and I feel a small burning sensation, like one or two fire ants biting my back. I start dancing and widening my chai ball and the rain crescendos and the cheers stop and I hear screaming, but they're not screams of cheer like at a baseball game. They're screams of terror like at a haunted house. I keep praying, dancing, singing, and it's raining harder, but the burning sensation on my body is becoming stronger. So, I stop singing, I stop dancing, I decrescendo my chai ball and I look around. The tents these people live in are dematerializing. Women and their babies are melting like popsicles in an amusement park. I look at my forearm and there are red burn dots all over it. What's going on? I hear my intuition shrug and say, “We told you to stop”. Then, I think of the local news casts and shake my head. I see the animals melting, going back in the ground, descrendoing. The crops evaporate like sand. The leader comes to me and screams, “Make it stop raining. We will give you the diamond and gold, just make it stop”. But, I can't. It's like pregnancy or a gun shot. I know how to make it happen but I don't know how to make it unhappen. I shrug and tell him I can only make it rain, not unrain. He yells at me and says something to his people who start digging fox holes. I go to what's left of the tent I was in, change back into normal clothing, and go to my SUV, but it too is melting. So, I dig a hole and cover myself like the tribe people did. But I feel the sand around me becoming moist and I feel the rain coming through and I ask my intuition what I should do and my intuition tells me, “You should've listen when I said stop”. A puddle starts forming underneath my knees, hands, and feet, and it burns, so I dig out and run. But, I can feel myself decrescendoing, going back into the ground. I hear the thunder strengthening, I see the clouds widening, I see the sun darkening and wonder what door I opened. Maybe I should've stated my intentions? I feel myself as a puddle, but somehow my vital organs stay in tact and I live, but I feel the rain burning into the skin or my puddle raining down harder and harder. I hear screams, moans, and cries of the local tribe. I think of my wife and kids and realize I'll never see them again, because of pollution. See, white man use a racism where they put minorities in places with more pollution so the white man won't live there. And this is what happens. I'm white so I understand and these people don't know what acid rain is or what to do. Then, from my puddle I hear them praying to their gods, but their gods can't help this. Their gods can't help this. I feel the rain cutting through the silver chord that connects the physical body with the spiritual body and know I'm about to die. But, doesn't make sense. Why would acid rain affect the spiritual body? Then, I think: Armagedden. I summoned armagedden through my rain dance. Damn.

           I see the white light. The one everyone sees when they die and rush into it. It feels like love, family, heart. But, I see all the tribes people who depended on me and I see them whaling, so I try to exit the white light and somehow I succeed. This means I'll be an Earth-bound Spirit, but maybe I can help these people if I'm a ghost instead of a Spirit. Maybe. 

*

           So, the first thing is to find out what idiot white men are causing acid rain? I can float as a ghost, but it's still raining. I follow the smog. After fifteen Spirit Minutes, I find the factory with fire that's producing the smog and I enter through the chimney to find out what they're making. And I see it: Tires. The acid rain is coming from tire production. People are dead because of burnt rubber. So, I start yelling and making a fuss. Hell, a ghost has to have some fun.