This is a game done Physically
the script is provided for those who would like to conduct reclamation for themselves. An audio file has been made available.
This is best performed in a dedicated container of time and space like an excavation, like a conception that is holy, with a conviction that is total. It is the only way games work. The rewards may be endless.
We begin at the dead of the night.
At home in your bed where you feel a comfortable quiet. The kind that’s familiar a few vehicles passing, the wind, the dappled shaped moonlight streaming in from your window.
It’s a nice quiet. It smells like midnight flowers.
You move slowly and stretch from this bed that is deeper than your actual bed.
You breathe into your lower back.
You breathe into your hips.
You breathe into your thighs.
Slower slower… than you’ve ever breathed in your entire life.
Like a slow unfurling blanket like a sunset that was played a hundred times slower than you could ever imagine
This is how you stretch yourself amongst your bed.
You are okay here you spend as much time here
Until you notice something.
You can barely make it out.
Slow moving machines. These giant things that purr and whir in the background, that you’ve never noticed before but was always there.
Machines ran by your own thoughts.
You stand up slowly. Make your way to them. Palm their surfaces and find a power source. You feel the slow whirring engine, it’s warmth it’s incessant noise. It doesn’t even need words, it only needs to be dissonant to the music of the center of the night.
You pull the plug at your own time.
Feeling a surge of energy in your palms,
An engine is turned off and the room that is the bedroom
Of your bedroom
Will finally learn of true slumber.
In the middle of the depths of the ocean
Is where you find yourself now
By large ocean currents
Capable of absolutely swallowing you
Of a treasure tomb you dared not unearth
For a long long time. You explore this underwater catacomb this old palace
This happenstance of a cave slash what hit my foot?
You reach your hand into it. Your most buried treasure
It’s missed you.
Take as much time crying your own ocean of tears.
This thing you’ve tossed to the bottom of the ocean
You reacquaint yourself with it as much as you need.
When what needs to be done is done, you naturally float up, like a bird taking to air your body now knows how to return to the surface
Up up up and away into the sky into a breaking daylight.
Your body is washed to shore. Feel the sand on your skin. It’s soft.
Feel the light peak through gently through your eyelids. What kind of sunrise is that? What kind of sunrise do you feel?
It’s like you’re not in the soft sand, it’s as if -you- are the soft sand and that you are as breaking as soft as shapeable as this endlessly gentle halfway between water and earth of a forgiving material
And just like the days of idle childhood, you find you as sand gently shaping yourself anew. New legs, a new breast, maybe stronger hips
You shape yourself, across your collarbone, your shoulders, your face, you pull graze and wash yourself with yourself, your arms your legs, absolutely everything. And everything is pliant and soft like sand that breaks cooly in your fingers.
You spend as much time remaking yourself in the beach, as much time as you need, until you give a final twist at your legs, your ankles that you feel..
Someone is calling you.
He has the face of someone you trust.
A warm voice of fire
He asks, would you like to be baked
In an oven of fire?
To the sounds of drums dance all that you are now.
See all the souls dancing with you in this giant bonfire
See yourself like being fired clay
New colors emerging x9
You have one moment. Your heart wants a new name, the kind the claymaker writes as a signature. Just use your finger. As you’re done dancing, and dance as much as you like.
Write your new name on your heart
And step out. Cool, feel your cool clay skin cool
Until the new name settles down anew in your heart.
Lie down in silence for several minutes.
Good morning. Check in with everyone who journeyed with you. Speak with words gestures, use your new face. hug, drink water, go on.
This is dedicated to Carla Jean Philine and all Snake Spirits.
This is also dedicated to Jeffrey White, Kazumi Chin, Jamila Nedjani, Bradley Gardner, Wednesday Sophia, Jim B & BAMF Patrons who all somehow crossed paths with me in transformation.
Layout on Feb 25 under a New Moon, script channelled and formed in collaboration with Carla Jean Philline for a Daloy Movement Jam.
Daloy Movement is an intuitive durational practice that walks through the 5 elements. For this journey, air was midnight slow quiet air, raucous thundering ocean deep water, earth as sand, the baking fire and akasha as silence;cool rest. Much love to Ea Torrado who formed the blueprint of this.
Yes, we facilitated this with living persons it was crazy great and we did this for each other and it’s insane and I’ll be posting more scripts as games for more people to enjoy these stories which is everyone’s stories anyway. See IG for MNL schedules of this.
If you enjoyed this please subscribe/tip on over to my patreon to support more games that liberate.
4.0 International (CC BY-SA 4.0)
support/download this game in a gorgeous pdf here: https://mariabumby.itch.io/reclamacion or send any amount to paypal firstname.lastname@example.org