When it's in my stomach it's mine

I translate memory into language and store them in stories.  I believe too much of what I tell myself to be free and too little of what I am told to be respectable.  I fluctuate with drastic anarchy and return to some temporary equilibrium.  Technically I'm always me but I don't know who that is when I'm not at home and my home can change from day to day. 

I am surrounded by a beauty I cannot possess so I eat stolen food because when it's in my stomach it's mine.  I want to kick the habit of disempowerment but I'm paranoid I'll offend the state.  Prohibition signs scare me more than anthills or strangers.

I want to receive the human glory of every beautiful man I meet but to receive one must first ask.  Only the vast ocean is big enough to receive the expanse of my love. 

I choose not to limit my imagination with boundaries nor my life by imagination.  The best things happen to those who are ignorant.  I breathe myself into existence; I breathe myself into intense presence; I try to breathe in unison with my lover.

I am free to run but must dodge the psychopathy of uniforms.  I bleed only when it is necessary to rupture my aura with the mini-death of healing or pain.  I am a hyper-dimensional psychic entity and must eat a lot to sustain my social normality.  I reluctantly explain and justify my presence and observe my form become syntax; this disturbs a part of myself I cannot attribute linguistically and therefore does not exist. 

Theoretically much of my behaviour is illegal, but no one arrests me.

Some jumbled manic thoughts

Rice expands my stomach and so although it is used to make meals feel filling it actually makes me hungrier.

I don't like this perverse attempt at control I am supposed to exert over my life, it is too boring and stressful for me.

I am the funniest person I know because I find extremely serious things to be funniest of all.

I can't get a literary agent because none of them can afford to put time and effort into "the financially unrewarding field of poetry".

I don't care whether I am successful or not because I am.

I am so happy that I don't really mind so much that I am not really fulfilling the plans I had planned for myself and my life.

I don't mind, I really don't.  So many people love me and there are so many places to go and so much to do that I couldn't conceive of boredom or loneliness except momentarily sometimes just to remind myself what it feels like cos I guess there are quite a few people in this world who experience these things and I want to empathise and I want to write about how they feel cos maybe I feel this way sometimes maybe I don't but I certainly used to feel this way and I got over it and maybe they can too. 

Maybe I am just arrogant and self-righteous.  Maybe I truly am from another planet.  Maybe we all are.  Maybe I am special.  Maybe we all are God, maybe we all are the reincarnation of the Son, the Christ, the Divine Manifest On Earth.  I don't know anything more than anyone and nobody knows much if anything.  I'm not sure whether my writing is a more accurate description of the universe when I lay my thoughts out clearly and structurally or when I go mental and have page-long sentences and thoughts that diverge into all sorts of directions.

Everything is just a big jumble of influences anyway isn't it.  We can observe this on a quantum level.  Things appear and disappear.  Influences come from all directions in time and space.  Reality is fluid, maleable, interesting.

What I happen to notice

I suppose I am supposed to follow the guidance of the universe.  This is more simple than it sounds.  When I find myself in a surprising and delightful place, perhaps there is a reason for me being there.  Perhaps it is not accidental that I find myself here.  I do try to think about these things.  Often the most irrational and exciting messages can be much more useful than obvious factual ones.  The causality of our world, we now know, is an infinitely complex collection of influences not at all bound by time and locality, which we consider absolutes.  We can at any moment be affected by an influence far far away that otherwise appears to be unconnected.  We can received influences from the future or the past as easily as we can from the present because modern science and intuition will tell you that the future and the past do not exist; obviously.  When attention is given to the subtle things in life, the irrational things and the possible meaningless things that may in fact be more meaningful than anything logical, I happen to enrich my life immeasurably and I also tend to feel much more well informed.  I am mostly completely ignorant and now that I recognise this I am much more inclined to take information, however unreliable, from a variety of sources, not just the newspapers.  In fact I am much more inclined to believe my dreams than the newspaper; maybe I am an idiot, maybe I simply don't trust the editorial process.  I don't trust censorship and the limits that capitalism places on honesty and expression and sensitivity.  I find that one must choose their level of sensitivity relatively consciously.  We can regulate it easily by the amount of cigarettes smoked and wheat eaten.  The more sensitive one becomes, the more she will notice about the world she finds herself in.  Depending on the environment one chooses to live in, a certain degree of insensitivity, a degree of disconnection from the self and the world, is necessary in order to survive and not be overwhelmed or confined to a mental institution.  Luckily we are relatively free, especially if we stop watching TV, and we can easily choose our environment and regulate our sensitivity to the subtleties of the world to suit that environment and our degree of desire to know what is really going on.  It seems we all have a powerful psychic potential, but I personally don't have a great deal of experience in that area.  I just pay attention to what I notice and try to make sense of it.

I'm living like this and I'm okay

How long can one immerse himself in the doldrums of domesticity?  How long before he must break free and find his destiny like a real man?  After a period of stasis is continuity possible, or does he have to begin again?  There was a young man once, who broke free from the chains he thought he was wearing only to find that their nature is psychic, they had no physical weight.  He literally stepped out onto the road thinking he would surely need some sort of organisation to protect him from the chaos of the universe and finding that he could simply hold out his thumb and he could get a ride anywhere.  He found that on his way along the road he forgot what he thought his destination was and began to follow and enjoy the synchronicities that would guide him through his days.  He met people who surprised him by not fitting anywhere into his prejudicial hologram of the world.  He began to appreciate any person or experience that would contradict his current limited perspective of the world.  He began to appreciate his ignorance of all things.  There seemed to be a greater force at work that he would notice clearly at his most sensitive moments.  He called this force God for  while, but then stopped.  This was like discovering one of the natural forces of this world, like gravity.  Though he did not credit himself with the thought that he was the first to discover this force.  He tried to mostly live but he also spent time wondering why most forms of human life were attempts at control when this profound force was so powerful and required nothing but submission.  He wondered what could possibly be achieved by the extremely complex and exhausting combination of a massive sprawling global capitalist structure to provide more than everything one needs and the responsibility and restriction of a career that provides one with the capital to satisfy this massive mother structure.  It seemed like a lot of work for a lot of people when it would be so much easier to just submit.  If he and many others knew about this force that he tried to think of a good name for, why all this exhaustion?  He noticed there were large groups of people who collectively described a remarkably similar force to the one he experienced and called it "God" although they too did not seem to be in touch with the reality of the force he had experienced because despite their words they were clearly setting up complex structures of control in defiance of any divine force that is real or unreal, God or not God.  The more relaxed he felt in this world and the more he sought out environments in which he could really relax, the easier it became and the more ignorant he became of the reasons why those around him were desperate to maintain some illusion of control over their own lives at least, if not some country or some group of employees.  It looked so difficult to him and he wondered whether he was just lazy or whether it really was all a waste of time.  There wasn't much he could see that he wanted that was not provided for him easily.  He was told he is special, not everyone can live like that because if everyone was giving there wouldn't be enough to go around.  But he noticed more and more people were getting into the habit of giving and he was not worried that this tendency was not more widespread cos that merely reassured him that it is not a fad.  Okay, he thought, maybe I have something divine to offer for this perpetual kindness, maybe I can just do the dishes.  Either way, I'm living like this and I'm okay.

Imagine being here right now

2010 is on its last quarter and who could have predicted such a year of intense change and novelty.  Who would have thought that the world would so intensify and speed up as it has done?  Who would have thought that the whole world would just open up as it did?  Is it just me?  Was this an entirely subjective experience?  Was I simply sensitive enough to experience it?  Did I happen to place myself in situations in which I was able to notice it and respond to it?  Whatever the answer, this year has opened up our world in a way that was inconceivable even 12 months ago.  What are the consequences of this new world we live in?  Anything is possible, as always, but the sphere of possibility has expanded and more people are dropping the comfort and illusory security of their accumulations to explore and share this sphere with the other forms of life who happen to be present.  There are mild forms of organisation which bring many people together temporarily to intensely experience this new direction and there are many friendships in which the same thing can happen on a smaller scale.  It is possible that a friend or two visiting your home and your life allows the possibility of a small-scale festival of joy.  I can't think of anything better to celebrate than joy.  I can't imagine anything better to pursue than friendship and the love embedded in it and the profound beauty in every atom of these beings who share this friendship with me.  Perhaps it is only possible to ramble about something so indefinable.  Perhaps something beyond language cannot be talked about and any attempt to do so is destructive.  Perhaps something that is not present in this physical dimension cannot be talked about in our physical language despite being so strongly experienced by these physical beings called humans who are so dependent on this language that tends to limit us to what we already know and therefore already have a word for.  It is hard to share something new when first the word must be created, learned and published in the dictionary.

Convenience and control

And today I sit inside in the rain in the early morning remembering little of my dream in which I watched it raining inside.  Why does it not rain inside?  What are we trying to protect ourselves from?  Every day is the same inside.  I have complete control over the environment, so I am able to stabilise, micromanage, confidently predict the outcome of every day.  It's convenient.  I know what to expect.  Because only the right people are allowed inside I know exactly who will be in my life each day, no intrusion by unwanted strangers who may challenge or disturb me in some way; who may move me to do something out of my plans, something unexpected.  If I want to surprise myself or move out of my comfort zone, I of course need to plan it first; otherwise I won't be ready and then who knows what could happen.  It is very important to me that this all stays nice and calm and that I am not challenged by anything that is too real for television.  Television is a good companion because I know that everything on it stays safely below a certain level and I need not worry about being surprised by it.  If I want something else I am free at any moment to walk out into the unknown, into the rain even; though why would anyone walk out into the rain, they would only get wet, and noone wants to get wet.  I want to stay in here where it is dry and I have internet access and television and all my food preserved in the fridge and the freezer.  I live in the 21st century and so have everything I need to survive.  I have convenience and I have control, what more is there?  What more is there?

Sighing

I trip to South America soon, with Dad in tow, 

for five long years we burn under the American sun. 

I have one year's money saved, but while there make fuck-load on sale of manuscript, nature unknown.

 

I take bunkers of cookies and wash them down with soapy beer and faeces, 

tomorrow I will break my back lifting Moloch to Heaven. 

I feel like the world is getting heavier every day, but I don't know who to consult. 

Most people are unfamiliar with the concept of weight, they only understand smell, and what it feels like to rub pine cones against your vagina.