part thirteen
palpitations in the heart. breaking beats. strange
energies flowing throughout my body. my mother. telling me ive
received some letters. one is from fire. mixed anxiety. queasiness
in my stomach. fear. excitement. i still love fire very much.
though sometimes. hard to remember her. now like some mythic creature.
i thought it had ended. that i would never see nor talk to her
again. i feel like that day so long ago when i walked through
the streets of boston in a daze. not knowing where i was walking
to. or from. it was her birthday just this month. shes turned
seventeen. its been over a year. so long. and so many times have
i wanted to do the same. write her. and find out how shes doing.
what she was doing with her life. tell her about my life. soon
perhaps ill know.
# # #
somewhere out in that fractal landscape of unexplored
relationships. i find myself wandering. exploring places i feel
ive strangely been before. and yet the pieces don't seem to fit
together the same. jenna and i. and that space between us. which
in some ways is somewhere ive been. and elsewhere.
after we candy flipped we began to spend all our
time together. she had been the one i had experienced the oneness
with. she understood. in some small way. the things i had experienced
were very intense. and i developed some strange attachment to
her. i felt i knew her deeply. as if i had had sex with her. as
if we had become one.
yet at the same time i knew. this was not what should
be. we had done nothing and could do nothing. between us. though
i felt a strong attraction towards her. there could be no sexual.
no romantic. so instead we talked. long and hard. constantly about
so many things. and touched. and ate. and slept. as if we had
been together. knew each other. being away from her for even a
few minutes seemed strange. we were almost as one.
then she left.
# # #
just thought of a new way to view writing. as some
sort of emotional game to play with the reader. you can draw them
in. make them become involved with the story. then bore them for
a while. make them feel happy. or start to cry. bring them to
intense interest in the story then cut them off. develop rhythm
with the way you do this to the reader. trying to bring them to
some ultimate state of mind. maybe theyll orgasm with pleasure
as the final scenes play out after such a long frustration. pulling
here and there. teasing and twisting. or perhaps youve worked
it that theyll get so disgusted and angry about the ideas in the
book that they go out into the world and do something about it.
they become so emotionally involved with the characters
that their intellect changes to accommodate the ideology of not
themselves, but the people they read about. or maybe they develop
the opposite ideas. its the ability to do this. to tear and break
and re-fuse together peoples hearts and minds through writing.
its this ability.
# # #
julie:
she was diagnosed as having petite mal epilepsy.
she learned how to control the people in her head. started smoking
lots of pot. she ran away to mardi gras last year. her parents
found her and she went home. she now lives in the basement of
her parents house. an apartment they built for her. shes graduating
this year. a year early.
# # #
karen calls me dad. says its a term of endearment.
im like a father figure in her life. that older, wiser, more rational.
a lot of the time i even feel that way. supporting my friends.
(how much money does ben owe me? driving so many people places.
so far so often). people see me as all rational, cool, responsible.
and i guess in ways i am. working at clemente. five days eight
hours every week. coming home shaggered. tired. wanting to go
to sleep. all this debt. worrying about money. my future. seen
as serious.
the tired businessmen talking in the bathroom the
other day. how their life had become so monotonous. wanting. needing
some kind of career change. mid-thirties. maybe forties life crisis.
and i try to be aware of that. am aware of how much i want to
avoid that. but these morals i cant seem to outgrow. about being
honest, hard-working, supporting myself, not living off others.
keep trapping me. writing here on a lunch break. when id rather
never have to think of something so hideous as a lunch break.
living a life alive with no need to take “breaks”. i
cant even maintain a smoking habit. getting all rational when
my lungs start to hurt. funny about the grass on the other side.
so many of my friends wanting so much to quit smoking. but cant.
and i. i cant keep it going, with this rational, logical mind.
need to break free.
# # #
jump into cyberspace. come surf the world wide web.
live and breathe free in a sea of digital waves of information
packets. netscape into the multimedia hypertextual experience.
the reality of the virtual. jack into the infinite. and prepare
for the revolution.
this past week ive been living in cyberspace. sleeping
twelve hours a day. waking up. eat. do the dishes. maybe yoga.
then. over to the computer labs. nice fast sparcstations. rs/6000s.
net-running for six. seven hours at a time. somedays i go home
and eat. come back. others. not even.
the web has grown so much in the past year. exploded.
everyone jumping the bandwagon. so i explore. re-building my home
page to keep up. adding graphics. next month they release the
first vrml browsers and the web becomes three dimensional. if
i stay here long enough perhaps i will build a world of my own.
already i am converting. this book into hypertext. ready to join
in new non-linear realities. being created out there. in cyberspace.
# # #
i dont think i ever told you this, but silk and rachael
are the same person. silk is her road name. once she dropped out
of college and hit the streets. if i already told you, then nevermind.
# # #
shannon:
shannon and tom got back together again. wanted to
get married again. they were trying to have a baby. shannon got
pregnant. its what she always wanted. but they soon broke up.
shannon kept the baby. tom and shannon began to hate each other.
shannon now raises the baby alone. tom pays child support. hes
in college now. somewhere far away. no one talks to him. the baby
is beautiful. i only hope she can handle the baby as she grows.
she still wants a husband. a father for the baby. one day maybe.
# # #
its strange finding out you have an affect on people.
that yes possibly you might be changing their lives in some small
way. recently. back in albany. meeting people again. people i
dont remember. but they remember me. a poem i read at a poetry
reading a year ago. a postcard i gave someone at the abyss. back
when it was still open. when i gave random things to random people.
like the woman in new orleans. who recognised me from a year and
a half before. when i gave her an excerpt of this book. on some
cut apart piece of paper. telling me she still has it up on her
wall. she framed the postcard.
it feels strange having people notice you. remember
you. and having the things you did to inspire people. actually
doing that. the acknowledgment of ones own existence. its what
actors thrive on. ive never really had that from strangers before.
its a strange and sometimes scary feeling. knowing someones watching
(and remembering)...
# # #
ONE PLAYS TRICKS ON ONES MINDS SOMETIMES. THIS IS
SOMETHING I NEEDED TO GET OUT WHICH I HAD NO OUTLET FOR. SO I
WROTE IT DOWN. IF MY MOMENTUM WASNT BROKEN I MIGHT HAVE BEEN ABLE
TO GIVE IT TO THOSE I NEEDED TO READ IT RIGHT AWAY. BUT THAT DIDNT
HAPPEN. SO I SUBVERT MY MIND. I GOT HIGH, TRYING TO RID MYSELF
OF MY INHIBITIONS. TOOK A WHILE. BUT IT WORKED. EDITED. BUT NOW
FOR EVERYONE:
things that are hard to express (but which ive been
meaning to say but have too much fear or too many inhibitions
or too afraid ill be broken off in mid-sentence and my meaning
misunderstood):
- on bryn athyn people. as a group
i get very scared to actually talk to many. i might try to fool
myself into thinking i understand any of them. and id like to
try to understand. but in truth youre all very mysterious a lot
of the time to me. and this intrigues me, yet scares me. im afraid
to tell anyone some things because i have absolutely no idea of
what kind of reaction ill get (this is an attempt to break through
that). i care a lot about many people in bryn athyn, but usually
i dont know why. its that family thing. theyre like family. like
willow grove.
- celeste i care about a lot. i dont
know why. i feel theres some magickal essence about her that i
both envy and respect. when i first met her i felt like there
was this incredible understanding between us. there is something.
but i dont think id call it an understanding. its something i
really dont understand.
- sidetrack: i definitely think scratching
is justified sometimes. however, i dont like the side of my personality
that is developing that will scratch people (who dont want to
be scratched) just for fun. however, i do feel its an effective
tool to emphasis the point that i do mean what i say (cross reference:
see julies case).
- jillian. im still unsure about jillian.
im just getting to know her. ive been feeling this incredible
attraction toward her. but this happens a lot as i first become
friends with someone. but ive been needing to tell her im attracted
to her to get past it and just be friends with her. in part, that
is what this is for. (like a guilt i felt talking so closely.
being such good friends with joel. because i felt i was hiding
the fact that i had previously been extremely attracted to his
(then) girlfriend. even though that fact had nothing to do with
anything we spoke of). in any case, i feel jillian (regardless
of any attraction i have for her) is very attractive. she has
a powerful personality and is highly intelligent. but still. the
difficulty in talking to her as a real friend, not merely a friend
of a friend.
- i like to keep friends around me
who keep me in check. like heather said today, sometimes i think
im so observant when i plain well am not. its hard changing these
things, but i want to try. its good when people say things like
heather to snap me back into reality. i dont want my friends to
completely define me. change all my behaviours just to satisfy
my friends. but i also dont want to be so stubborn as to force
my friends to accept every annoying aspect of my personality.
none of this thats how i am, deal with me shit. i want to have
my friends try to change me for the better. however, at the same
time, one must take precautions. i dont want them to try to change
me strictly for their own benefit (cross reference: buying alcohol).
its tricky. itd be nice if people could talk about my personality
objectively. out in the open. and help me to shape it.
# # #
people drifting in and out of a book. and sometimes
i wonder if other people wonder what happens to them. a paragraph.
and they are mentioned no more. but they continue on in my life.
and the present gives perspective on the past. so it is time to
add some perspective (reflection).
# # #
jen:
i still love her. i dont believe well ever be together
again. i see her every once in a while. she started to have an
annoying aspect of always trying too hard to make people like
her. complimenting people in ways that always seemed forced. but
she seems to be growing out of that. maturing.
# # #
april:
i have not seen her since that fateful day. for quite
a while the pain. the shame was too much. so i didnt think about
her. about a year ago i heard she had forgiven me. she called
and we talked for a while. but ive never been able to bring myself
to call her again. to see her. now it is too awkward. (this is
the one aspect of my life ive never been able to reconcile with).
# # #
scott:
finally got out of philly. now lives in new york.
same old. same old. but he doesnt seem as dead as before. he talks
about the projects hes working on. some recording. some other.
still squatting. pulling the old scams. different city. but hes
learned to do more with it.
# # #
folsom street fair. and now, all of the sudden, ive
developed a liking for vinyl. especially women in short vinyl
dresses, fishnet stockings and combat boots. amusing walking up
and down folsom street. as the leathermen strut their stuff. one
end has live house music. sung by divas in drag. then stages with
hardcore/metal/industrial. people walking around in bondage gear.
spanking stalls, cages. gay men jacking off, having sex in the
window above an indian restaurant.
it brings me back to a culture i havent been in for
a while. going to casual outdoor raves in santa cruz. i want to
buy a small cat-o-nine tails once i get money. start going to
industrial clubs again. experience that darker side of life ive
been missing (except in my own mind). part of building desire
for someone to tear into. tear into me. candlewax dripping on
hot sweaty skin as nails tear. blood rising. dark red marks on
a neck.
i saw my friend chaz there. it has been a year. he
still dances at bondage a go-go. told me to come this wednesday.
exchanged phone numbers. talked for a while. its been long since
ive had someone to talk to in the way i talk to chaz. joel and
i havent gotten there since hes returned. both of us distracted
on other things (finding an apartment).
one man had painted his head and shoulders a deep
yellow ochre. bald on top with random strands of white hair extruding
from his skull. metal tabs decorating around his eye. his cheek.
wearing an alice in wonderland dress with white stockings. short
chinese man walking around in white shorts carrying a bag. his
arms and legs are shackled. he looks like a slave. painted all
black with a pink triangle on his chest. leans up against the
wall. bald guy in a red tutu. men walking around with nothing
but a spiked leather cap over their crotch. fat, unattractive
men showing off their asses, cut-out, tight leather pants. then
the people with the cameras coming to take pictures of the freaks.
more men in drag. gothic/industrial looking others.
the cool thing about the folsom street fair. its
never impolite to stare. people come there to be stared at. to
stare. watching beautiful women in short vinyl dresses and fishnets
stockings.
# # #
in some ways i leave so much unsaid. so much for
the reader to simply understand. and in other ways i say so much.
so much more than is needed. (but i suppose where this line is
drawn depends upon the reader as much as myself).
# # #
at the rainbow gathering. meeting this woman. gwen.
judy gives her a hair wrap. back at the tent. she sees the book
im reading on the kabbalah. interested. she too. later. talks
around a fire. about witchcraft. the old religion. zen. shes intelligent.
able to talk. teach me about things. strange to find a woman who
seeks enlightenment. studies the religions. the old teachings.
something ive been searching for. a woman like that. but the time
is not right for her. but still. so many discussions. and one
tries not to be biased. but in such experience as mine. only men
ive found whove studied these matters. so refreshing. she tells
me of someone she calls a green witch. was it on turtle island
he lived? i forget. he sold dmt to rich folks in town. always
people coming over. something about animals as well. was he attached
to them? cant remember. he was a herbalist.
gwens a dancer. she explains to me something called
contact improvisation. two people. maybe more. start touching
at some point. then they roll. twist. flip. flow into each other.
as that point moves about on each others bodies. it is like aikido.
two bodies moving as one flowing form. neither trying to dominate
the other. each simply diverting. changing the flow of energy
between each. playing off one another. contortions and convolutions
of the body into new forms with another body. i tell her of something
called nude gay contact improvisation. saw something about it
in the paper in sf.
gwen is a strong woman. someone ive met before. strangely
i feel somehow like michelle. my first girlfriend. years ago.
only i dont remember michelle. but somehow that same sort of independence.
yet at the same time it seems. is it as if she chooses dependence
carefully. almost as if she can only really be dependent on a
very few people at a time. and with everyone else she is almost,
at times, fiercely independent. no. how would i know? i knew her
for maybe four days. who knows. next time i meet her then.
# # #
let me tell you about the neighbours. first theres
owen. he works as a waiter down at this indian restaurant somewhere
in soma. occasionally he even gets paid for working here, though
it seems hes always out of money, yet never so that he misses
the rent payments. then theres lucas. he lives down the hall.
he lives like my roommate, off some inheritance bestowed upon
him several years ago when one of his relatives died. hes a peculiar
one. hes bought himself a bullhorn and will go up to the roof
and shout at people in the streets below. sometimes he reads things
he finds in magazines or books that he likes. his main interest
is in the bizarre things people bring upon themselves or create
for others. hes doing something now called the psychic enemies
network. this fictional organisation hes created to ridicule the
media and society in general. hes more of a sarcastical critic
of the society we live in rather than someone willing to go out
and change it. one gets the feeling that he sees attempts to radically
change the world futile. so instead he sits in his room on the
lower haight producing artwork and zines to mock those who dont
know better.
owen complements lucas almost perfectly. owen's interest
is in the particuliarly twisted. those things that society feels
are better off left alone. magazines exploring the issue of rape.
satire and yet trying to explore all points of view. answer me.
serial killers. deformities. people with latex. complete isolation
fetishes. he does photocopy collage out of the various zines,
books and magazines he has devoted to such topics. things to provoke
people. deep underlying sometimes to make people think. hes easygoing.
and has a particular fondness for easy listening. and his manner
of speech. so....emphatic.
# # #
this past week ive been spending a lot of time down
at the iww office. not really doing much. just sitting around.
but ive been having some pretty interesting conversations with
this guy fernando. the iww is this labour union type of organisation
that apparently did a lot back in the early part of the twentieth
century, but which really hasnt done much in the last fifty years.
the last big accomplishment was the eight hour workday. anyway,
so ive been hanging out down there. and ive been experiencing
the sometimes life just takes a sudden change. and you lose your
train of thought. forget what you were going to say. and no matter
how hard you try to remember. its just not there. a part of the
fading past. like focalising on the flash of a bolt of lightning.
with practise visualisation comes. but i havent had the time,
the energy. to practise. to learn how to hold the image of the
candle in your mind after youve closed your eyes. when i have
more time ill practise and have time to remember. not now.
# # #
ive been getting cramps again. dont know why though.
i have a varicose vein on my left testicle. when i hook up with
a woman, most often. blood going through it twists it more. or
something. and i get bad groinal cramps. but usually its only
when ive been extremely aroused by a woman. and in a certain state.
but lately its been just happening. for no reason at all. just
one of many reasons to settle down in san francisco. time to get
an operation.
# # #
beth:
two years and im walking along market street back
from a night on the castro. someones leaning over a railing with
short dyed red hair. i think maybe this is stuart. i havent seen
him since new orleans. he was moving to sf when he left (later
i found out he moved to ann arbor instead. now he lives in indiana
somewhere). i approach and ask. the figure stands up. last person
in the world i thought id see.
shes working at tower records with my friend chaz.
they dont mind her looks and she has fun even if not being paid
much. doesnt want a job that would make lots of money, but that
shed hate. dread going into work each day. we go clubbing. hanging
out occasionally.
she talks about her friend suzanna. back in nyc.
how they dont connect as much anymore. suzannas still all caught
up in the gutter punk/squatter scene. spare changing. living off
of others. beth doesnt think this is that punk. most using the
fact that the system is corrupt as an excuse for laziness. they
complain about the system and say they dont want to work for it,
but do nothing to change it. spare change. do drugs. an immature
phase. fine for a while, but beths past it.
back to a halloween years before. one of the first
times i ever met beth. wandering around albany with others. we
wind up in beths apartment for a while. candles lit, lights dimmed.
people are dripping wax all over their hands. their skin. theyre
tripping. im looking at h.r. giger for one of the first times.
sitting on an american flag spread across the couch. watching
someone whip beth. as beth enjoys. some months later looking at
the modern primitives re:search. man with his dick split in half.
piercings. fakir. beth was my first peek into the culture of s&m.
# # #
its funny to watch people in a conference call. all
these people sitting around this table talking to this little
box. the little box talking back to them. its no wonder they developed
video conferencing. at least then you have a little bit more sense
of a human in the meeting.
# # #
Lots of things that I've been reading and thinking
about that I think you would like. Read these books if you can:
- Condensed Chaos
by Phil Hine - Very well written book on the subject of Chaos
magick, a new form of magick that has been developing since the
seventies. It's a very down to earth form of magick with deep
insights into the human psyche.
- The Mists of Avalon
by Marion Bradley - The story of King Arthur told from the eyes
of Morgaine of the Fairies, his sister. Excellent, excellent book.
The character development in this book is the best I have ever
seen in a novel. The subtle interactions between each person as
well as how human she makes each of the characters seem. This
is a book that really brings to life the myth of King Arthur.
It also deals very nicely with the Old Religion and Druidism.
- Letters of Anais Nin & Henry
Miller - If you haven't
read anything by these two authors you should. Anais Nin is my
literary ancestor. Both her and Henry are brilliant writers and
thinkers (though I tend to like the way of Anais better). This
book is a compendium of their letters spawning twenty or thirty
years. Other books to read include (by Anais Nin): The Diaries
of Anais Nin (starting in 1932 as volume one going on until the
seventies), The Early Diaries of Anais Nin (from her childhood
at age thirteen until 1932), Little Birds (beautiful, sometimes
bizarre erotica), Henry and June (from her diaries, tells of her
romantic involvement with June and Henry, things that were omitted
from her published diary) and (by Henry Miller) Tropic of Cancer,
Tropic of Capricorn and Black Spring. There's more than this but
I don't really know much about them.
Have you read Alan Watts, The Way of Zen yet? It
is an excellent book. If you still see Ben, you should get him
to get my copy from his brother for you.
# # #
CROSS REFERENCES:
(julie's case): so i old her not to smoke in my car.
i told her this several, several times. and she had already smoked
one cigarette after i told her not to. but i was driving and i
wasn't in a position to do anything. she was in the backseat.
so i told her not to again. i dont like people smoking in my car.
after some time she lit up another cigarette. so i reached back
and grabbed her arm and dug my nails in as deep as i could. i
tore at her skin to where she started to bleed. then i continued
driving. she finished smoking the cigarette, but didnt smoke any
more after that. no one else has tried to pull that kind of crap
again either. when people are totally disrespecting you or things
you own, i feel justified in causing pain to bring across my point.
(buying alcohol): i dont buy alcohol. not for anyone.
at anytime. except when im making an exception. which i do so
very incredibly rarely. but still. people are always asking me
to buy them alcohol. begging me to. when they know. i dont buy
alcohol. they try to argue with me. give me reasons why i should.
but its a plain fact that whether or not i buy them alcohol will
have no affect on me. its completely self-serving to them. so
i feel no reason to change my stance on the matter. its an aspect
of my personality i dont feel i should change for others. because
theyre not trying to get me to change my views on the principle
of the matter. they want alcohol. and thats the only reason they
try to get me to change. theres a time to change for others and
a time not to.
# # #
[right now. at this moment. i feel so content. sitting
here. listening to this music (julee cruise). being alone. i realise
this whole weekend has been like this. and these people who interfere
in my world. last night, this morning. they annoy me. i am very
content to be here alone. with thought or presence of no one.
this has nothing to do with the letter. but i figured id share
it with you, you being the only other person here, in thought
or otherwise.]
one thing of this book im reading that i understand
is what they call following the will of the goddess. or rather
of what will be. i am sometimes all too painfully aware of where
i am in my life. and how my life expands out. and how now is not
the time for things i desire greatly (like a girlfriend, to travel),
but a time for other things. and i live by these ways because
i see not much sense in breaking them, in living in other ways.
sometimes i wish it were free will.
i am twenty-three now. i turned so on sunday. and
i grow tired and weary. i feel old. working at clemente
as an administrative assistant. eight hours a day. i go home tired,
wanting to sleep. stressed out by arguments with my roommate.
worries about debt. my five year high school reunion is in november.
and i wonder what its going to be like. all my friends successful.
and me, salutatorian of the class. working a temp job. i feel
so much pressure toward the future. how im going to support myself.
what i am going to do. trying to get into the internet, the world
wide web. but what if i cant. i feel dead. standing on the bus
with a tired look on my face. just wanting to get to work, have
done with it, so i can go home and sleep. just wanting to do drugs
on the weekend to forget about the pain.
the most horrible part of it all. is that i can remember
when i used to live. being alive. high school. college. then so
much more those years i travelled. now that i am settled i feel
dead. i am done with my life, ready to die. but refusing, because
maybe.
# # #
(written to someone who is) truly a writer. i understand
this. so often. more than that. going through my life so reserved.
so calm. holding back. this weekend i reached such a peak of anger/depression.
strangely enough i felt so alive. having been living in this deadness
of emotions for so long. and i wanted to throw things, break things.
but rationality breaking in. stopping it. so long now have i been
longing for a woman again. to tear apart. to burn in a fiery with.
any of these intense emotions. and now anger at people that would
take too long to describe. i can feel the surge to write returning.
writing letters to people. and soon. more of the book. it has
been so long i have been uninspired. lately ive been reading the
letters of anais nin & henry miller. wanting to write letters
like that between people. someone. letters to record life in its
most excessive, intense. but with the introspection that only
an artist can give it. like henry and anais.
pain racks my head. this non-locational cramp of
my brain. i am at a cusp. perhaps one of the largest decisions
of my entire life. and its tearing me apart. having to decide
whether to stay in san francisco, or move back to philly with
my parents. long story. so complicated. with so many reasons to
stay and so many reasons to go. and the decision affecting my
life possibly for a decade, or more. wanting to get into web design.
and sf is the place for that. but ive been here 3 months with
no success and at my parents id have a really powerful computer
to build up my portfolio. [im staying in san francisco. for better
or worse. well see...]
i feel i am reaching something. some of what they
call an inner peace. i know it will go soon. so im trying to enjoy
it while it lasts. ive been longing for the arms of a woman lately.
and this weekend has been very much away from that. though as
i write this letter i am reminded of you in so many ways.
i am in that space between spaces. where i feel like
forgetting of all this talk of settling down. following silk to
mexico. or hop a plane right now to europe. i long for the road
again. but now is not the time for such things. i have six months
to get back in the computer business, or forever be out. so here
i must stay and work.
this weekend has awakened the need for a girlfriend
in me. someone to hold and bite and kiss. i have a sense i am
slowly becoming horny again. after weeks now of masturbating out
of habit, needing five, ten, sometimes longer to get aroused.
a lot of the time not even bothering. both at once i could wish
to be asexual, yet i would never give up that desire to be one
with another, for anything.
and once again too tired to think of all that. my
body aches in a strange way. im not eating right. too much stress.
my legs hurt a lot of the time. this morning i felt like i would
simply collapse at work. this morning getting out of bed i felt
so tired, sickly tired. its my will power that drives me on. driving
me on until my body finally rebels. hopefully not until we have
our own apartment. i dont want to be sick here. once the stress
is all gone, then i can collapse. get sick and heal myself.
# # #
learning of zen buddhism lately. discovering and
learning that which i already know. for much of this book has
subtle underlying zen philosophies which are not zen at all, but
simply.
and now studying the kabbalah. strange and hard to
understand this book i read. but at the same time learning a lot.
at its heart the kabbalah is like zen. or wicca. like so many
of the other. the old religions. where all everything are one.
they call it ein sof in my book. the oneness from which the ten
sefirot, is the ten sefirot, as they are all ein sof. a good point
it makes in saying that which is called God is a palace. God is
not the everything which emanated the universe, but rather that
conception which allows us some limited understanding of ein sof.
and even to call it ein sof is a lie. for it cannot be named.
for a naming is a limit. some form of a conception. of something
which includes everything: all conceptions, all names, all limits,
all infinites. so judaism worships that which it calls God, the
limited conception of the entirety of everything. and from that
abstraction, ideas begin to twist. so that in these times, God
is no longer seen as being the earth the air the sky the stars
you me and everything. there is no longer the understanding of
a nameless everything which in some way created God. no conception
of the everything/void which existed before that single point
called God existed. the single point which then exploded. emanating
out the universe through everything and nothing.
in zen, it is understood that once a conception has
been formed, that is not the thing. that to experience God. oneness.
satori. we must become void. this is strived for through letting
go. meditation. but once letting go becomes something to do rather
than that which is done. the conception has been formed. this
is what they mean when they talk about satori allowing one to
see the world how it truly is. rather at a point where there is
no longer truth nor falseness. because there becomes no longer
anything to point to to say, “there, that's false.”
science takes the creation of the universe as being
godless. as starting from that single point in which all the matter
of the universe existed as one. exploding from there in a big
bang. yet they cannot tell you where that point arrived. how.
when. the kabbalah says that before was ein sof/nothingness/ku.
ein sof then emanated a point. this is the beginning. that point
is God. everything in the universe was God. and God created the
universe in a moments explosion. and so God was everything, everything
was God. forever expanding.
once again. its just a bunch of fucking rambling.
sure, yeah, that's how the universe works. but now that you know,
do you feel all that much better? are you going to go jump off
a cliff? or dedicate the rest of your life to the universe? no,
of course you're not. you're just going to keep on living doing
what you do. the revelation is both profound and mundane. but
then again, that could be simply because i'm wrong.
# # #
one of the discussions involves the blatant hypocrisy
of groups like rainbow. they attempt to say that each person is
equal. they all make decisions together. and yet there are definite
elders in the tribe. making definite non-consensed decisions.
all against the use of “technology”. yet they are perfectly
content to use automobiles tents etc. at least the amish mean
it when they say it (though even they not completely). so anti-government.
yet who pays their welfare. they try to be non-conformist. to
think on their own. yet most of them are sheep. following the
ideas of the others. with little thought as to their validity.
other than rebellion against their parents. or authority. blind
rebellion is the same as blind conformity.
# # #
/dev/null wrote:
> crazy man. Anyway, it's nothing real big, i just wanted to tell
> you that i'm taking this class "Cyber Arts" and our first assignment
> was to find a "cyber art" web site, so i gave in your HTML'd
> walk-through version of your book as an example, and we've spent
> like an hour of class time on it, with the whole class talking
> about it. thought you might be proud.
yeah. definitely cool. kind of makes me wish i was
there to hear what people were saying about it. gotta work on
that soon. postponed part thirteen from 1. Sep to 1. Oct. now
it doesn't even look as if ill make that date.
# # #
last night i walked among the stars. danced with
the oneness of everything and everyone. last night i became god.
everyone and everything. everywhere. i wondered in a great space
of nothingness. the great shamanic ritual. everything they always
said. it was true. it was true. i thought i had touched it before.
for moments of letting go into. but it was nothing like being
there. wandering and i kept thinking. oh fuck. this is it. i dont
want this. i dont want to be here. but it kept forcing itself
into my world. that we are all one. and showed me in a way words
cannot explain. for a time i didnt exist. or i did, but everywhere.
but i dont really know. because ive tried to forget. and i knew
even then my mind wasnt ready to comprehend. but how was i going
to deal with this when it all ended. because i have some vague
impression that i came from somewhere to be here and would return
there at a time as well. this vague feeling of a person who existed
who was experiencing all of this. but often i would get confused
between people. taking a piss. i didnt understand what the thing
i was pissing out of was. or why it was there. i would wonder
why when i scratched my lip other people wouldn't feel it. for
a long time i would stare at my feet. and wonder if i was dancing.
asking jenna. no i wasnt. for a long time there was just a vague
feeling of a reality pushing in. then, slowly. returning as jenna
talked. my anchor tying me to this reality. drawing me back. as
i became aware of candy-flipping at a rave somewhere in richmond.
during the night i remember moments. like standing
on the balcony as carlos spun. and hearing him cut. the three
dimensional sound moving. creating a space of another. or in a
love puddle on the floor. talking to jenna. asking her if we where
having a fight or an intellectual conversation. because i was
in so many realities. on so many levels. i didnt know which one
she was fixed to. watching the laser. but so much of the night
was a trance. not here. but somewhere here and not here. out there.
exploring that inner space of the universe. they always said it
was true. and now i wish i never knew it was. because my life
has forever changed. and i havent figured out how to deal with
that. i think it will be a very long time before i do. and to
understand fully. someday. far away, hopefully. i will have to
go back. to learn and explore. and be one with everything. again.