7/7/23
Experiencing the paradox of enjoying life, but feeling inadequate because I’m not suffering enough, sleeping too much, narcotized by daily kratom that fails to make me euphoric anymore, mostly sleepy. If one fails to suffer, one fails to meet approval standards. Being a failure is the worst form of suffering: psycho-spiritual. When one feels pain it is externally valid. When one has a painful experience, it’s different. Trauma may even feel pleasurable, yet be painful existentially. Certain sexual kinks or fetishes make this apparent. But there are less obvious types of perversion. Red-faced, red-handed, when one begins to double-fault, one becomes conscious of body-mechanics through embarrassment. What one cuts out or excludes may define just as much or more than an obvious inclusion. Subtlety is its own (survival) stratagem. Camouflage AND fangs? You have the tiger’seye.
No one sees the world quite like a well-managed schizophrenic. Indigo children relate. “You want to chill with my piece?” An unregistered firearm rests on the puzzle table. A chained Rotty in a muzzle sits at attention. Sheathed swords and a variety of knives adorn the wall. A variety of interior-designed sexual metaphors evoke, may provoke, and are bespoke. There’s nothing quite like the right tool for the right job! Too much R-E-S-P-E-C-T makes me obese. Treat me like the worm, vermin, or perv that I am! Believing one ought to be respected in original sin. “You have to earn that shit!” Gun safety is recommended. The last thing I need is more blood on my red hand.
The colonizers vs. the colonized – the (white) imperialists put their stink on everything (save the Irish). “You’re saying India wasn’t asking for it?!” Anglophiles, reaping the rewards of another successful plunder put out of their minds the plight of inferior races. The idea of achieving nobility through a collection of gold and silks – “well how else?!” Because a family’s psychological failings are kept well disguised (stripes and fangs) they are allowed to exist in the background. To upset what exists in the background only serves to upset the natural order of things. The first will become the last (alpha-omega) in due time.
“If no man have lain with thee, and if thou hast not gone aside to uncleanness with another instead of thy husband, be thou free from this bitter water that causeth the curse:” Numbers 5:19 To a woman accused, give her Salem’s ergotamine for confessions. “Toad piss warts!” she curses, “I’ve been running the devil ragged since March, who knew he was so well equipped? He can monger me all night!” Her heinous confession of demon buggery got all the Puritans flush. Their rocks were hardly even off Plymouth! The fact this fetchling could be so wonton with her liberty disgustipated the workaday audience of neighbors and peers. They’re as pissed as handled toads. It seems interesting from the drugged witch’s perspective that she is able to control others’ actions at a distance even to her own demise. ‘Suicide by murder mind control’ it’s called. Witches do the darnedest things! Bill “I was unconscious of her need to be conscious” Cosby.
Four seasons: the forcee’s son: the one the law enforcer worked upon his idea of justice. Aristotelian logic performed on a hapless soul. Forced perspective, no mercy nihilism, archivists go back in time, performing a regression analysis, perceiving where “we” came from (humanity) and extrapolating (barring deviation) where we may be headed. Martians, acting similarly, arm themselves. “Man thinks of himself as having been present when the organic world originated: what was there to be perceived by sight and touch when this event took place?” Nietzsche, F. The Will to Power. #640. Robert Johnson, “King of the Delta Blues Singers” perceives Mississippi via kite. A view to rival Argus Panoptes. All the way to New Orleans where an Afghanistan veteran with confirmed kills experiences sexual bondage on ten hits of acid.
What is the opposite of The Bomb, but just as deadly? Something slow, silent, insidious, and cold. Fentanyl fits the bill. A billow could kill city blocks and disorient the surrounding radius. Circumventing customs (inspections) is an apt metaphor for how society neglects traditional ethics! Some addicts may be practicing disaster preparedness, thus survivalists. When the pharmaceutical smoke clears, they’ll just be waking up when soldiers with gas-masks, rifles, and bayonets come to finish off the still warm bodies. Futile witnesses…
Learning the hard way, unable to sit still therefore unable to listen, I’m always anxious to move myself, so I can identify the impulse or compulsion to not grow old. A rolling stone gathers no moss! When observed from the outside it is easier to identify what’s going on inside – a separation from unity? No less whole, yet seeking improvement through refinement and cleansing exercises that serve to eliminate the detritus that seems to accumulate from sheer virtue of Earth spinning. Pinned to a location on a map for prolonged periods – not upright nor upstanding are citizenry easily patrolled. Well-contained in mental ghettos. Every object hums, buzzes, reminds, radiates, and gets in the way of anything actually uninhibited. Sure, you can smoke grass, but mentally, you’re stuck. Sure, physically, you can get stuck and you like it, so what’s wrong with mossiness? It’s soft. It’s pleasant to look at. It’s part of a diverse ecosystem. Perhaps I could stand to be mossier! Mossy mothers of invention grow heather – Ericacea calluna nourished by moonlight grows dim. Consciousness itself is learned and learning itself is accelerated through pain. The pain of dying, normalized, elevates consciousness collectively?
A day later I couldn’t stand up without getting dizzy! “Orthostatic hypotension” I believe is the correct terminology. I was barely able to make myself pasta from the couch. At least I was able to finish reading “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” in under a week. An inability to learn from mistakes? My inability to maintain maximum levels of energetic euphoria is my mistake? Because I desire to make money and experience pleasure, I’m evil. My casual partnerships seek revenge when I withdraw. Chemical withdrawal feels impersonal. It’s easier to cope with bad feelings when put in a ‘just business’ context where I can imagine I’m only hurting myself. Suffering may be prolonged in solitude. Interaction defers feelings by sharing; burden bargaining. Feeling no heaviness, my own weight takes on proportions arbitrarily defined, too massive yet too weak to move my girth, though not technically overweight.
Newsflash: Fentanyl chemtrails sedate Portland protesters. Peace and order maintained. Win-wins in the wind. America runs on cortisol!
I suppose I ought to face my lack of passion or lack of anything goal-oriented besides making money and further isolating myself. And my intent for money that I make is merely to spend it on drink or takeout. I know I’m missing out on something. Missing out on love – difficult to define. Seeing its opposite, not hate but indifference, by smoking, masturbation, and laying on the couch because I felt glued. Lewdness, that set of anti-values bring spiritual emptiness and poverty. Reading Maslow’s “Dichotomized Science and Dichotomized Religion” and realizing my “cripple-values” are half-baked. Since I only desire for myself (who else?) I accomplish only what’s easy, right in front of me, and even then only half-heartedly. It would be cripplingly depressing if I didn’t know how to chemically alter my mood effectively (suffering just enough, but not profoundly). My simplified desires, the result of an attempt to figure out what it is that motivates me to discover my ‘better half.’
Tenacious Eunicholas Chambers on his second ball of seed and his seventh bowl of weed takes the chokehold to a throttle – vroom, vroom! Escapes perdition on free will alone! With the pose of one who has seen better days at 23, practically slumped. For those who achieve satori at the zendo, life becomes a brutal religion of attempting to reattain that spiritual high. Every day a metaphorical Everest with no base camp – straight shooting mission impossible. He dreams.
Electricity, harnessed fire, does technology make man more enlightened, or does it make man feel more enlightened? Heat without light and light without heat – “We’ve done it folks!” Choosing to not believe in science doesn’t change how the lights work. Choosing to not believe the witness doesn’t change the truth! Unless the past is alterable (quantum) from the future, back to the Stone Age to plant a single seed like the book of John. Something about a baptism with water, “And he brought him to Jesus. And when Jesus beheld him, he said, Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, A stone.” John 1:42 & So it could be posited – one theory is how time progresses somehow outward via fibonacci phylotaxis in (twelve) directions from a messianic nucleus. And we believe because we perceive a single lineage spiraling out that this is the only lineage despite our ability to influence past and future events at a distance and be influenced by distant beings of the same lineage! Science may serve to enhance presence, but creates dependencies, unlike religious meditation, which serves to sever what isn’t unified.
Phil from the future changes the channel to commercial: GlaxoSmithKleinBristolMyersSquibbPfizerJohnsonandJohnsonRocheMerckAstraZeneca
“He yawned: he had finished the day, and he had also finished with his youth. Various well-bred moralities had already discreetly offered him their services: disillusioned epicureanism, smiling tolerance, resignation, common sense, stoicism – all the aids whereby a man may savour, minute by minute, like a connoisseur, the failure of a life.” Sartre, Jean. The Age of Reason. Last page.
“Thus we have the peculiar situation in which many...find themselves skeptical in every sense, but fully aware of the yearning for a faith or a belief of some kind...And so we have a new language to describe the situation, words like anomie, anhedonia, rootlessness, value pathology, meaninglessness, existential boredom, spiritual starvation, other-directedness, the neuroses of success, etc.” Maslow, A. “Religions, Values, and Peak-Experiences.” p. 38
An addict, discovering new ways to feel, upping dosages, concentrates body and slackens mind. Rebounding like Barkley, Charles, man on Magic. Johnson on Rilpivirine and Johnson on Nicorette revive meatbody’s neurons and counters what is unseen with naked eyes (a virus). A chemical complex enough it could be said to have a mind of its own, sort of, that it sort of has survival instincts and an ego in the sense that it’d like to replicate more of itself into existence. Saul Kripke knows the multiverse is an elaborate lie (group). David Lewis can imagine all the pu$$y he wants, but it will be nihilistic and untruthful. I think this gets confused/conflated with things like archetypes, mythos, and planets – where the common thread of a story transcends cultures, and here we focus on the similarities or unifying factors, rather than the differences – those things that come from the soil.
7/18
“A picture’s worth 1,000 words” + “Man does not live on food alone…” = T.V. as mental gluttony. Programming is a form of force-feeding. Processed food, more difficult to digest, feels easy as a bag of chips dusted in the flavor of chemtrails. On a plane full of the mentally obese, she has a Revelation: “It’s no lie that the well-fed feel (mentally or physically) superior…”
How does man serve the “organismic” universe (to borrow Maslow)? Being a reference for the grandly designed organismic mind of universality, man serves as an example to others consciously, evolving. Others’ evolving consciousnesses form a sort of matrix like a tapestry that is also a moving picture.
“What if there is within each person a force that understands at some gut level that all humanity is inextricably interdependent and that to harm any part is to harm the whole?” Grossman, D. On Killing. p. 39
And now I’m reading all these books, but what am I seeking? Books on conduct or guidance. Guidance also that I’m free to reject if it fails to conform to any preconceived notions that I’ve already established. Imagining myself an iron Buddha, imperturbable. The books are meant to expose any weaknesses in thinking, beyond what is known. Because I indulge in the use of exogenous chemical stimuli, there is an acknowledgment that if I were living fully consciously well, there should be no necessity to rely on these sophisticated tools. These plants, medicines, and chemicals provide what I imagine to be a competitive advantage over peers who aren’t even competing! Not directly, anyway. Fear of being buried before I accomplish anything memorable. I imagine everyone else to be doing cooler things, to be living a better life, and that I ought to be capable of integration… and yet I am achieving my aesthetic ideals. “I know how to dance and anyone who dances differently is wrong!” goes the scientific rationalist absolutist, stepping on toes. Perfectionism combined with lack of direction, “I don’t know where we’re going, but we’re making great time!”
11/11-12/23
Frizzle filigree combustion performance.
“He put his tongue down my throat like he’s not afraid of me.”
My worst fears involved being genuine – the sexual aspect was secondary. But she’s not haunting anymore, and do I wish it had turned out differently? Not really. Grace in elegance. Complex yet rational. Living in defined properties, solidified though outside observation, a team of scientists writes fiction. Kiss off.
A list of reasons for the number of drinks I’ve had tonight:
1) You left me.
2) My family
3) My heartache
4) My headaches
5) My loneliness
6) My sorrow
7) No tomorrow
8) ???
9) Lost gods
10) Everything.
Friends...what are friends for? It is said “a friend in need is a friend indeed,” but what of the friend who seemingly has it all, what does he lack but sweet sweet nothingness?! “No rest for the wicked,” according to paraphrased Proverbs and Caged Elephants. See someone who can afford to not worry and see him bustle about. Doing business apparently. Barely affording himself. Hacking himself apart.
My confessions go on forever. The rest of my life spent avoiding meaningful prayer for anything meaningful. What else would words be for if not expression of self-condemnation? History states something about the weakness of constitutions. Constitutional historians and social critics mistake Socrates for just another bum on the street? No, those were his contemporaries. They walk right on by Jesus Christ himself! What did he say about doing unto others? Exerting influence in a marketing campaign to gain followers for “prophet”? My misinterpretations leave me impoverished. The roof over my head is a basement floor. I’m buried by mediocrity. Bet it’s alright with me, Gordon, Brian, Blaise, and Josh. I’m just some loser conditioned by straight jackets, in prison, in the “hole” for a week. However Jack knew reputation is a key to power. He knew suffering was a prize for sin. He masturbated during the golden hour to reruns of ‘Jeopardy!’ Alex has entered the chat. Eau de May Pole. That Greek nerd can steal my show any day. The only right answer left a question mark. Historical propaganda favoring Caesar. Another white guy fantasizing praetorian sexuality and Stoicism. Bringing historical concepts in Arabic numerals to a Jew party. A head like a Bell Curve. A statistical anomaly: A logical homily. God bless. The sweat from my armpits and my empty chest breathe deeply. Inhale, extrude. Trudy Troubadour Myers, the New Mexican anomaly with a seat at the table of my heart anytime she likes. Murder me in a Michael mask. How long has the life been bleeding out of me? Intense thirst is part of my congenital mood and sleep disorder. Some songs sound better in the car, some worse. Some songs sound better in subconscious subwoofers. My darkest time embodied by a total bitch who talked a better sloppy toppy than she delivered. Dante’s Inferno laughs down on me. He knows the only thing worse than death is eternal life! Torture on torture on torture, a screaming female in my midst. What set her off this time? The drunken victim of a bad tattoo, which was the perfect crime for an alcoholic hand artist. A bold move for a person with a name, face, and reputation. No access to any job but fucked up shit. And in this economy where labor has been outsourced to robots, aka Mexicans (Uyghurs in China). What did you say your name was? An advertisement for sluts? Still living off that Jameson money, the bitch that stole my heart for real and is still eating dehydrated heart cupcakes. Anatomically correct heart cupcakes. John Misty’s father took him up a mountain with a stray calf. Oh Abraham, have you read Kierkegaard? Oh Father of all religions, are you an intermittent time traveler? Sent here to make to make replicas of me? Oh, really? So silly. I feel like my brain is about to explode and I want you all to know it so that my brush with Ivermectin won’t be in vain. What we need is cheaper substance and Kennedy delivers! My brain explodes with the thought of another Irishman stealing the Duggan chair! The failure of my eternal being to persist on foodstamps is excruciating! Managing my timely temporality alongside pulsating electrical currents threatening the sensitively cellular atmosphere of sorts. Cranberry juice cocktail. Unintentional sexuality. A coastal case of the fritters. A family of Caveats! The name is all encompassing. Fucking with warnings. Get off my chest! The problem with my disease is that I get sick before I get better. When I get slapped in the fucking mouth I get angry! I chose that penis off a lineup in Tijuana! (A place I can’t remember!) What would my superimposed influence have been? What would I have been in a different place and in a different time? I like to imagine, but I choose not to fantasize, because like original sin, it is one of the many causes of death on this planet of perpetual vice. It’s as if you knew the answer all along when you found out you know it doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore, but it really is as good as a clearance sale at Macy’s on Veteran’s Day. Ere ago. A semiotic compilation of lyric and verse to soothe my throbbing ego + 20% off sweatshirts and sweaters for my material soul.
There must be a gradual improvement of outcomes for there to be a valid answer, hail Caesar! Caesar, the reeking devil I’ve grown to tolerate through rationality toward the terrors of totalitarian tyranny which amounts to a list of precursor atrocities, a trail of tears, and a field sown with dragon’s teeth. These amplified signals are setting in cellularly. The chemicals I smell on the quantum field of scents are contradictory to DNA: a double-helix that did not agree to such a title. Ask the singular language-formulating brain cell that spells ‘consciousness’ what that means and you may get a different answer if infected by a viral spirochete! “What’s so funny, simpleton?” goes the thief of joy Judge Walters, the ex-gym teacher, present jurist. Judaic principle, general ethos surrounds the arbiter. J.W. was a textbook good guy, so much so he was caught at the wrong place in the wrong time and killed for it. He made a series of mistakes in good faith and killed Williams on a technicality. One percent of one percent of the total population died in that exact time and at that exact place with big daddy supervising. Oh, brother! Another revisionist! Another one who thinks one knows better?!
I had a seriously large about of alcohol and Malort (wormwood) today – enough that it threatens my being a sanctified Christian. A man of faith beyond faith, belief beyond belief, knowing beyond knowing, namely (viz.) a threat to life itself, in the traditional sense, as something that is not only living and breathing, but also in good health and of mind judged sound by certified psychiatrists to participate in even the relatively simple civilized custom of tippling. I’m still mobile, even if sideways. That creeping demon spirit-puller possesses my every waking thought like a gay obsession. And I’m not even like that! I’ve got other interests, but once my pride is established, atrocity. We’re pulling out all the stops! Land developers downstream of Hoover sweat. False flag tactics destabilize consecutive beings in place in time. Split by some multivariable equation in the matrix. Afield of ‘combustagen,’ (another word for napalm), and downwind of contageon, the delta simplex slithers like worms through the brain. Unviable circumstances present themselves. What have I done to this unreal planet? What have I made of my fantastic life?
Don’t people’s heads itch with hats on? An itchless headdress, surrounded by gears, levers, and pulleys holds my every hair aloft like an Escher designed Tesla coil. “Smoke and mirrors can’t fix that look,” is what Madonna said to me. The mother of fucking Christ thinks I look dumb?! All the books – throw at him. Read motherfucker. Bitch. All the things that make a man sound less intelligent – sound off! Deafness, lack of sight, hardened ways of being – Aomame in the audience, you know I love you now. My poisoned heart, my poor timing, and my emotional instability all can be yours for the low, low price of living in poverty with an alcoholic! If only there were someone or something less pathetic that myself I could compare myself to. I feel like a total monster. I deserve everything I get for being mischievous, even if it was a low-key laugh-riot. Pattern recognition suggests I’ll repeat myself. Criminal psychology suggests I’ll lean into my disease state because if the patients stay sick, then the corrupted thought is that he/she/they will be kept alive forever with the blood of children and other distillates. Moloch: the silent killer.
Aomame – I get it. It was a dumb idea. It was a dumb idea to think I couldn’t write letters to someone I don’t care about. Obviously I can. This is all just a sales-pitch for something I think we both may be able to profit from. Imagine something nice if left out for 12-15 days with water and sunlight. Sprouts! It’s one scale-able idea that would profit from the reaping of young seed of ancient heritage. Another idea involves kidnapping babies and holding them hostage and if the ransom is not met to sell them to a broker who sells them to the super-elite for organically sourced adrenochrome! I’m leaning more on the side of alfalfa, personally. It’s nearly effortless! Set it and forget it: Sprouts! It’s so simple even a dum-dum like me could imagine it! Aomame, I’m sorry that I thought suicide was funny and then serious and then I wanted to kill myself for real until the very last second before it was too late. It was honest to God divine madness, that became blasphemy, and then I just wasn’t sure anymore. I’ve had all these thoughts and feelings pent up for close to a decade and noone even noticed or cared to ask, so the two of us together was written off as some autistic fantasy of some very sleep deprived child in a shaking cage of his own making for the sweet stress-hormone normally consumed exogenously by plutocrats for fountains of youth.
My agoraphobia knows crowds of people are secretly cannibals. Every woman knows true power is birthing between their hips. There can be no abstention. No doing without. Dig in with your very hands or face certain doom. We’re doing it again: victim of circumstance, true to one’s own hand, the mind that splits and becomes ‘no-mind’, a place noone can tell one from another. A place much of humanity is sleeping in, like good boys and girls, from one shore to the other, before Christmas. Whose presence are you expecting? Dreaming of strip steak, dripping blood, all over the barbecue carpet, weed whacking seven layers of skin: a hyperreal whip chip dip. Jesus Christ can conceptualize enhanced interrogation techniques acted upon levels of devotion to Him. Vladimir’s illegitimate son, John imagines all the proletariat working for his own megalomaniacal self-interests that involves social stratification based upon a perverted meritocracy called “party loyalty.” John Lenin in a position of power rationalizes, "Opium for the masses? Here we come, Afghanistan! So I can play over here like a drunkard with the people’s money. So I can privatize my own personal economy of scale. I have a mind and it’s mine! Mine! Mine!"
