Field Entry: Glastonbury, UK – 6:42 a.m.
Fog clings to the streets like something protective. Or possessive. Hard to tell.
Locals say Glastonbury sits on a thin place — a place where the material world and the other one get cozy enough to swap secrets… and occasionally lovers.
Day 1: Ley Lines and Love Crimes
There’s something about this town. It pulls you in — not unlike the people who tell you they were “called here” by Avalon itself.
A man in robes offered to “recalibrate my soul map.”
A woman tried to hand me a rose quartz “for heart protection.”
No one asked why I was there. Everyone assumed I was searching.
Which, unfortunately, I was.
Interview #1: Eleanor, 39 – “The Man in the Fog”
I met Eleanor at a tea house near the Chalice Well. She spoke softly, like she was worried something might hear her — or worse, remember her.
“We met at the Tor. He said he’d been waiting for me for lifetimes.”
Charming.
Until he started showing up in her dreams before they met.
Until he insisted she stop talking to friends and “focus on the energetic work between them.”
Until she found him one night, in trance, speaking a language she swears wasn’t human.
“After he left, I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I could still feel him… inside me. Feeding.”
I ask if she ever tried to contact him.
She laughs. “He still visits. But only when I’m vulnerable.”
Eve Lorgen Would Call This: The Dark Side of Cupid
This is the upgraded Love Bite model:
- Pre-contact dream communication
- Overwhelming psychic connection
- Emotional control masked as spiritual guidance
- Energetic depletion, sexual obsession, and… post-breakup hauntings
Lorgen’s theories about engineered relationships powered by hyperdimensional parasites fit like a glove here — a velvet one, trimmed in esoteric symbols and sealed with gaslighting.
Symbol Watch: Grails, Crosses, Mirrors
Glastonbury is obsessed with the Holy Grail — the ultimate container, the divine feminine, the portal of reception. Every store sells chalices. Every mural hides a triangle. Every ritual seems to whisper “merge.”
One bookstore clerk mentioned that mirrors shouldn’t be kept in bedrooms here.
“Too many doorways already.”
Meanwhile, the Tor, with its lone tower standing atop winding spiral paths, feels like a place made for rituals you’re not supposed to remember.
Several locals believe it’s a dimensional access point. One called it “a launchpad for soul contracts.”
I climbed it at sunset.
The wind howled.
My compass spun.
And a black bird landed exactly where my guide said “the veil thins.”
Field Notes: Patterns in the Mist
- Relationships initiated here often share a theme: fast, deep, too perfect
- The city itself seems to amplify spiritual vulnerabilities — like an emotional speaker system
- People report shared visions, co-dreaming, mutual awakenings followed by psychic crashes
The connection to Lorgen’s work isn’t symbolic — it’s structural.
Someone, or something, is crafting emotional architecture.
Then feeding on the collapse.
Closing Log: Glastonbury, 10:14 p.m.
I sleep near the Abbey ruins. I wake up twice.
Once from a dream where someone whispered “return.”
Once because all the electronics in the room reset at 3:33 a.m.
Coincidence?
It’s starting to feel like that word doesn’t mean anything here.