You are my children
you are my parents
you are my siblings
My teachers and my taught
Dancing in the Light
Radiant with joy
Full knowing what waits
Shed a tear
And dance on.
--------------------
My life is profound
and useless.
Useless in it's profundity
Profound in it's uselessness
etc.
--------------
Those who feel the greatest need to heal others are those in the
greatest need of healing. They seek to heal others in the hope
that someone will heal them.
Healer, heal thyself. There is no other way.
Love (compassion?) is giving support, mere presence perhaps, to
those who are healing themselves.
---------------
What is Love?
From where does it come? It's origin, it's essence?
Is there an answer?
Or should I just accept?
Love is all around me. I feel it. I see it in others.
The intense connection. Comfort, safey, security.
Acceptance
Community.
Love is about belonging.
We love those who know who we are.
We love those in hwom we see ourselves.
We love those who accept us for who we are,
and who we can accept in the same spirit.
---------
How about the cow
who lived on the hill?
he sat up all night
and used all his skill
building a ladder
up to the moon.
He built, and he built
and he used all his might
but he just couldn't get
the damn thing right.
----------------
[Oct. 4 2001]
Now.
There is no space between moments.
Time is not a series of discrete moments strung together like
beads on a string.
Time is space in motion, ever-changing and amorphous. Past and
future are human concepts, illusions crafted by the blind.
Neither exists. There is only the universe, here and now, in
motion.
This is not a profound revelation.
-------------
Stare at any human construction long enough, and it disolves,
revealing the earth on which it was built.
-------------
Realize that the arifacts of human life are imaginative constructs.
Realize that life is art.
-----------
[Oct. 5 2001]
New love, like any newborn, is a frail and insecure thing.
It craves nurturing and reasurance. It can squall endlessly
in the back of ones mind, demanding attention, destroying
concentration. All things are coloured and distorted by it's primal need.
----------
Waiting
Waiting
Imagining ocnversations that willnever take place.
Hoping, wishing, fearing.
Doomed.
What makes it so hard? The things in the way are illusory.
The emotion is real, good or bad.
We must live inside the illusion.
But we must also live with ourselves.
Which is more important?
Sounds easy, doesn't it?
So, what now?
Stop thinking about it.
Be.
-----------
Eyes meet in error
flick away
fearing the intimate gaze
of an alien mind
Alone
----------------
Metaphores are lies
which reveal the truth
---------
[Oct. 12 2001]
We can reject (or embrace) the human world as a creation of
human imagination... but the fact remains: this imagined,
illusory world is the medium through which we communicate.
The vibrations of a human voice cannot travel through void.
We build and shape the medium through which we communicate,
but it also shapes us. It becomes our environment. We become
it.
I can reject cultural norms all I like, but unless I can find
others who do, or convince others to share my views, I am
alone, not understood.
---------
Struck twice by lighting
one begins to lose faith
in Reason
---------------
"Remember what's real!' he screamed into the night, the wind
in his hair, moon on his face.
"Remember. Think back; you know it."
"Don't let your art be pure technique."
"Don't let your life be artifice alone."
"Remember what is real"
"And _live_."
--------------
Imagination
Past <-------------------------------> Future
^
Now
(Reality)
Primal
Spark / seed
Love:
-----
Human love is an imaginative construct rooted in the pack
survival mechanism. Love forges a community of individuals
who will act to preserve not only themselves, but others in
the community.
In turn, the pack mechanism is rooted in the reproductive urge,
and the need to protect the family.
Human romantic love tends to be more intense than the more
generalized, community related species of love because of the
deeper connection to the primal root.
Compassion is a stornger form of the community species of love.
Here, the individual wishes not only to preserve the community
of individuals, but to actibvely heal. Compassion pre-supposes
empathy.
Void:
-----
it is possible to reason back through imaginative human constructs
until one reachesthe root in primal reality. At that point
further reasoning becomes impossible. Reason functions oly
inside human imaginative constructs. In pimal reality there
is no reason. There is only existance.
Pure being.
One may analyse primal reality to see how it works, but one will
never discover the reason behind existance; one cannot find that
which does not exist.
----------
The crows are laughing
Flight at dusk
Wind over black wings
Homeward
---------
Lend the cows your chicken wings.
--------
[Oct. 29 2001]
Life is an act of imagination.
An immense work of collaborative fiction, dynamic, each person
reading and writing at the same time.
With the aid of our fellow authors we create the human world.
What we write, and the way we interperet what we read determins
what that world is ... Heaven or Hell, it's a world of our own
making. And we have no one but ourselves to blame ... or to thank.
"Which way I fly is hell' Myself am hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep
still threating to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven."
- Paradise Lost
--------------
[Oct 30 2001]
Who's hands are these
that touch the sun
and blistering endure?
Who's eyes are these
that peirce the night
and wrath of dark ensure?
Who's will is this
that stands aloof
from all the cares of men?
blah, blah.
And then there was that time in vegs
when I killed that guy
with a fork.
Just to see if it could be done.
It can. But it's not pretty.
I wouldn't recommend it.
----------
If you think about it, you might see.
If you look at it, youmight understand.
If you let it be, you might ?
--------
What did you see there, in the darkness?
What saw you?
Could you look at it, face it? Or did you turn away?
It's still with you
It always was.
It is.
--------
cradogh maghev behlaven. Fehlah berhesh mentanah lavin behlinn.
---------
The presence of lunch precludes the hourror of a lonely suppoer.
Drench the will in mystery and flower the bed of underknowledge.
The pain of longing is replaced by the joy of knowing. There is
releasee in the hand bound.
It is the will, It is the will, it is the will.
------------
Look among the pines, and youwill find wolves.
Lok among the wolves, and you will find pines?
-------------
What could it mean, this switchback of reasons's road? Sights
seen again, but in reverse. The clouds have changed, the sun
moves on, shadows march. It seems so new, yet I know [feel] I
have been here before.
-----------
Freedom finds me in every moment
and binds me to it's breast
"Away," I cry, "What need Have I"
"for such a thing as you?"
In desperate mood I fight away
and run with heaving breath.
The heavy wing of Freedom flaps
behind at every step.
-----------
Certain staid and static things
were said
Nothing to be done.
Stretch a hand into the past
and pluck at formless mist.
--------
"I came upon the wind" he said.
-------------
[Nov 2 2001]
We live in the place where our worlds collide.
The Dream
-----------------------------------------------
/ \
| Culture |
| / ^ \ |
| / | \ | Welcome to
| --------->him | her<------- | the neXus
| / \ | / \ |
Culture<----------------us------------->Culture |
| \ / | \ / |
| --------->you | me<-------- |
| \ | / |
| \ | / |
| Culture |
| |
| Culture shapes us individualy |
| We shape culture collectively |
\-----------------------------------------------/
When culture collides with culture the same thing happens.
What is the meta-culture? Primal reality?
no.
----------
Our own power intimidates us.
Fear cripples us.
We cripple ourselves.
We are afraid of the thing we have created.
We lie awake at night
in fear of the fiction we have wrought.
in fear of ourselves
we have the power
we have the power
we have the power
Wake up. You are asleep. Wake up
---------
Sing to me, oh Muse, of the time...
ah... bite me.
Cows
Deliberate fish
foremost dogs
certain reward
needed murder
welcome rest
Doves west
Thirteen sentenses
Time lost
found
begun
now
won.
------------
Desparate Joy?
Desparate acts of joyful abandon
Joy becomes an expression of pain
cracked mask.
Absurd chaos of Being
embraced with perverse glee
Have youever known peace?
Peace is...
a moment of stillness.
what am I trying to say?
Pain is enduring
Peace and joy are fleeting.
I'm tired.
There is pain in the knowledge of nothing.
There is peace in acceptance of nothing.
There is joy in the delight in nothing.
---------------
[Nov 14 2001]
Even at your most joyful
I see the depth of your pain
In my own way
I feel it.
It resonates so deeply with my own.
Soul deep.
It screams behind your laugh
It wells up, black, behind your eyes.
But these are my screams I hear
my black tears I see
What can I know of another's pain?
Psychic mirror reflecting ...
No. Not alone.
We reflect what we feel, no reflection without substance ...
The moment passes
and your smile lights up the world.
-----------------
We are looking for ourselves
reflected in the eyes of others.
--------
The psychonaught is the bravest explorer. The inner world is infinite.
There are no ansers to be had.
It is a journey of imagination and self-revelation.
Leave the finite. Enter the infinite.
----------
For those questions we most want ansered, there are no answers.
But we insist on makeing them up.
------------
[Nov 21 2001]
The emotion seems honest.
Or I can't see through it.
It ammounts to the same thing.
There is nothing I can do.
Nothing
Howl at the moon.
----------
[Nov 23 2001]
Together we walked
hand in hand
strangers
Alone
Finaly our eyes met.
Smiling, we knew each other.
On we walked
hand in hand
through a bright new world.
I thought I heard a voice I knew
I turned to find it's source
In my haste, I dropped your hand
and dashed away.
As I ran and searched, I told you all I felt
as always it was our journey together.
Now I turn
to take your hand
and find you gone.
--------------------------
How do we fight back the sadness
and the tears?
We do not.
We feel. Face pain as a friend
hold it close a moment
and let it go.
Live the moment
and let it pass.
How do we hold onto the gladness
and the love?
We do not.
We feel. Face joy as a friend
hold it close a moment
and let it go.
Live the moment
and let it pass
Moment after moment, new things form out of the mist
Moment by moment, life leads us
nowhere ... and everywhere.
-----------------
Real things are simply said
and impossible to grasp.
-------
Stop looking and you will find all you need to find.
-----------
As we aproach nothing
everything becomes possible.
--------
Truth is subject to imagination.
There is truth only in Primal Reality
where the wor(l)d has no meaning.
---------
[Nov 30 2001]
We walk through the Darkness
So that we can dance in the Light.
---------
[Nov 31 20001]
Wishing for the bus to come
will never hasten it's arrival
Quite the opposite, in fact ...
But there's magic for you.
--------
[Dec 4 20001]
I can't hold you close enough
I want to be under your skin
Behind your eyes
----------
The river flows
indifferent to your cries
The river flows
you kick and flail, try to reach the bank
The river flows
exhasted, you slip below the surface
The river flows
indifferent to you fear
The river flows
give in to the current ...
the river is you.
-----------
decompose the universal wave function
-------
I am a wave function
pure potential alone
defined by Schrodinger's equation
Observe me. Actualize me. Bring me into being.
Look away, and I disolve into possibility.
-----------
We spend most of ourlives on autopilot, sleepwalking. Yet
we tend to resent anything that bumps us hard enought to
wake us up. We should embrase these things. They remind
us to live.
---------
There is something inside me
screaming
like a trapped animal
It would chew it's leg off
and drag itself free
If it knew where to go
----------
1. Art is language: methods of communication.
2. Life is art; a continuing colaberative effort.
Therfore. Life is a method of communication.
What are we communicating, and to whom?
I am. You are. We are.
We are the voices in our heads.
---------
I stare into your eyes
Black pupils empty,
reflecting all.
I fall through.
Freefall.
---------
[Dec 8 2001]
note to self:
Why do I write (and think) the same shit over and over again?
Because I still don't get it.
Not really.
Nothing to get.
Simple
So why do I keep trying to figure it out?
Habit?
I'm trying to make something out of nothing.
I feel like I'm standing outside, looking in. But that's crap.
I'm at the center. The problem is, I'm at the center, and I'm
looking in.
I'm trying to build a rational framework for something that
makes no sense. I'm still pretending that I'm the observer.
Fuck detachment.
Fuck self-imposed alienation.
Paricipate. Step in. You're already there. Open your eyes.
Ride the wave and fucking quit trying to steer.
Get it?
You're already doing all that needs to be done. You're already
participating. All youneed to do is be. Everything else will
take care of itself.
There. Nothing to figure out. So stop.
Stay at the center.
Journey inward, into the realm of imagination
But return to the center.
Journey ourward, into the world of others.
But return to the center.
You are the center.
Time is the universe in motion.
You are part of that motion.
Stay at the center, and you will be doing all that is needed.
Each at it's center, and all is right.
Come back to yourself.
--------
Allt hings diverging from primal reality, the Now, are creations
of the imagination. (this system is a creation of the
imagination ...)
At play around the center.
--------
The universe has motion, but not direction (?)
Self Center/Present: Universe in motion - Primal reality
^
|
|
|
|
past<---------- center ---------->future
Present
|
|
|
|
Other
There are an infinite number of these oppositons. Any we might
imagine. All ways are unreachable because we have created them.
Absolutes do not exist.
Come back to the center. Come back to the begining.
False binary: Begining <---> End.
Beginning is ever-present.
End is nowherer in sight. There is no end. Only Now.
We imagine that universal motion tends toward our vision of the
future. Sometimes we are right. This does not mean that we
knew the future. The universe happened to go in the direction
we imagined.
We are carried along with the universal motion in the sme way
that we move thorugh space with the Earth. we are an integral
part of the universal momentum.
This is sounding dangerously close to Deism. But I posit no
prime mover, no uncaused first cause. I posit only the eternal
presensse of the universe, uncreated, unborn; the etheric
medium which carries the wave of Now.
That whic _is_ requires no explaination.
Yet here I am attempting to explain. Again.
----------
For those who are aware, life is made difficult because of the
clash of two ideals. On the one hand the aware have recognized
the absurdity and ultimate lack of grounding of the structures
of the human world. In response to this recognition, the aware
seek to simply be, now.
On the other hand is the realization that the human world,
despite it's absurdity, has tremendous power, a power every
human has given it. This power sets humankind ouside of the
normal equilibrium of nature. This power enables us to do
great harm to ourselves and our environment.
So. There is a tension here. For most creatures, being
"in the now" simply makes them a part of the natural equilibrium.
For humankind, simple existance without reflection can lead to
imense (self)abuses, as can be seen perpetrated every day by
the blind multitudes (let it not be said that we can exist outside
of nature) blundering happily along. For the aware, the tension
is between being and responsibility. The trick is to be, but
consiously be. A contradiction.
Possible solution: ossilation between being and feflection.
reason the card, but passion the gale. We surface from the Now
long enough to get our bearings, then dive.
---------
[Feb ? 2002]
We are the wakeing wounded.
We hobble through these human dreams
that have so marked us, without fear.
For we have traveled broader realms than
these, past the edge and back again.
We know what lies beyond and beneath.
This knowledge does not fill the empty,
nor does it brightne the dark places ...
We are the wakeing wounded.
We walk together through these human dreams
that have so marked us.
We walk together, and smile.
We have a dream of our own.
------------
My ideas are not without presedent:
Primal reality is the universe in motion. Kali is motion through
the medium of Brahman. The action of Kali through Brahman is the
Eternal Now, the Root of all Being.
---------
We impose our systems upon the world because we _cannot_ accept
that the wold needs no structure.
The only structure worth building is one that constantly analyses
itself into nothing.
Thus we are reminded.
----------
I don't beleive that fear can ever be completely negated.
Even in themost peaceful of states, we always create things
to fear.
In the final analysis, it is Nothing we fear.
We live n the singular viewping of ego, the center of each our
own universe. How can we not fear that our personal universe
means nothing? Even the concept of disolving the ego into unity
has fear behind it; fear that we are each alone.
We are alone
We are alone I am alone
Stop running. Embrace the Void. Peace.
But fear will overwhelm you again.
If you are aware of fear, it cannot control you.
-------
All comfort is illusion
All contact is delusion
To love is to run from yourself
Embrace your fear.
Know that you are alone.
See through the illusion
know that you are whole.
------------
Unborn, I have always been.
Chaos and Night were my siblings (for lack of a better word).
Chaos was universal potential unformed, Old Night the
unpierceable darkness of the unknown. The two found
each other and now swirl in a timeless dance.
But what about me? Who am I? I am unknown, recorded
in no-one's cosmology. I am the Unborn, the Eternal
Observer, the Universal Eye. Unrecognized and unrecorded,
I serve no purpose. But here I am. I see all, yet know
nothing.
Who am I? I am. Call me Sum.
[March 29th 2002]
I know you.
I think you know me.
I've always kbeen here.
Here I am.
We've always been here.
Together.
Here we are.
Alone.
-----
[March 30th 2002]
I want to play till the end of time
with you
Like we did when the world was young
Why did I forget?
Do you remember?
--------
[May 2002]
Grounded
I watch you fly
Free
If I reached out to you
would I pull you
down?
Or would I leave the ground,
catch the breeze in open wing
and fly
Free
-----------
[May 2002]
Wind in her hair
sand in her toes
she steps lightly through rubble
on dancing feet
Once-mighty pillars
of iron and stone
lay smashed
overgrown
She plucks a violet flower
from a wild mass of vine
that grows up from
the cracked remains of
a wide, wide roadway
sniffs it once
deepest breath ...
Petals drop fluttering
wilted
forgotten
She dances on
old bones shift and crack
drops of blood along her path
She feels the wind renewed
on her skin.
Smiling
she sighs
--------
[May 17th 2002]
Before you I was a Shade
of what I might yet be
waiting
waiting
Rituals of blood called to me
Rites of chill death... with the touch, the warmth,
of life
so strange yet so familiar
something from a dream, a wake, a life
before?
Blood warmth moves over and through me
shadows flicker and shift
Mist begins to lift
Blind eyes clear
To see
To feel
again?
Blasts of light and heat
pain of knowing returned, revealed
you hold me to you
one thing
I scream as shade-flesh dissolves...
and stand new-made.
Every cell burns for you now
genetic birthright, ageless and new
seared with your mark
Double Helix spirals up into possibility
Rooted deeper than reason
High as madness flies
Real
Every thought is you
Your mind a puzzle, a wonder
I know I can solve
because I know you of old
and that is you
whispering in my mind...
I remember...
what has been?
My soul sings for you, for you...
Muse of fire
spurning grey mists enshrouding
reaching high
burn away
burn free
--------
[May 17th 2002]
Do I get what I want?
What do you want?
Is it the same?
Would that be love?
Do we walk together?
Do we walk apart?
Is it the same?
Must I die to live again?
The light is bright
It burns
What if I turn away?
what if I don't?
The gale pushes me on always
towards the light
Shall I pretend that the card
of reason
Can alter my course?
-----------
|