3/22/10

 

If there is anything that I've learned throughout my life so far, it's that perception can make or brake this life. Our consciousness organizes and categorizes on levels we are not even capable of perceiving, but if we focus on how we interpret things we can allow ourselves to be free. During one of my escapes from reality, the walls of my house had another layer just about a centemeter away from the physical wall. This layer was like a wall of its own but was an interconnected web of geometric shapes. While inspecting the room I noticed that this pattern continued onto the floor covering the carpet and most other large surfaces. During the times I stopped my mind from its own wanderings, and looked upon this covering its shape would change from something pleasant to something which made my insides churn. The shapes morphed into strange insect-like faces which filled me with fear. I found myself on my knees and I could see these horrific face-shapes on my floor squirm into my body. I watched as my veins and skin bumped from where it touched the floor up my arm until I could take no more. Losing myself again in a psychedelic thought form. When I came back to what could arguably be called reality, I noticed that shapes upon the wall were back to their original shape. This time I looked at this pattern with wonder and appreciation understanding that it was a part of me, as much as I was a part of it. The shapes then lulled, the space in-between the lines of the shapes grew. I felt a wave of euphoria sweep across my body. The shapes then took a face-form again but this time one of a jovial nature...
For 6 hours this process occurred, switching each time from positive to negative. I felt the complete depth of each feeling. I was that feeling. During this time though I was disillusioned and believed these images to be higher beings with a consciousness of their own. I wasn't far off, but not quite on either.

For they were merely the visual projections of a psychoactive mind. When your brain is super-pumped, your best tool becomes your master. You cannot control the places it goes, it controls you.

THIS IS LIBERATION. liberation from the things we are taught to believe. Liberation from the false beliefs which barrage us all from birth...Liberation from your own mind.

Everyday, people create the same scenarios, with the same outcome, never really thinking much of it. The answers are all right there SCREAMING for your attention, but you just speed by, your mind just to damn preoccupied. Absorbed in the comfortable(not necessarily pleasant) thoughts its always been thinking.

I write this half as therapy for my regaining clarity, but half also to share a bit of what I took from it. Those morphing geometric face-shapes directly mirror the minds ability to morph reality. I'm not talking about tripping face reality, I'm talking about the 9 -5 grind, the sober mind. The people and places you go, the food you eat, the place you live. Everything you need is already inside of you, its just a matter of taking responsibility, grabbing life by the balls and saying, "Yeah, uh, you're fucked, because I'm calling the shots now." This doesn't mean to live life like you are some righteous omnipotent being, it just means being open, and truly seeing.

This life is here for us to all enjoy it! LOVE IT! let go of your dogmatic views and do what it is you were born to do. live.

The People

 Nations rise and fall,
Governments surge and swell,
yet the people still resolve.

Ideologies,
National Identities,
Traps,
To keep you playing along.

Atomic Bombs,
Acidic Gas,
The people still resolve,
The people still hold fast.

Pruning

Pruning is painful,
but it is essential
for the perseverance of the soul.

Grace where waves meet shore.

Decades of despair,
decades fighting, thrashing,
for air.
I didn't know someone could drown so slow,
nor how long-lasting the storm.

Sure there have been victories,
some solid wins,
but they always seemed to be
baits of catastrophe,
points of demarcation that announced
another fall comes near.

I did what anyone would do,
I quit,
I released the tremendous tension
that had built up over decades of strain.
I stopped fighting, I stopped longing,
I stopped all petty attempts to overcome
the strength and magnitude of the storm.

and just as the water was going to enter my lungs,
just as I was ready to let it win.
I'd catch sight of someone else who had also been flung.
Even here, I could hear and feel their pain.
Confused, distressed, flailing, fighting,
it was their first time in the water.
With my decades in the depths,
I figured I could offer some help.

I'm not sure if I've made a change,
I'm not even certain that I've done more good than harm,
I thought by letting go I'd float,
but after years of renunciation,
its only left me with even less to show.

I don't fight for the surface anymore,
that's where the waves are,
and every fucking time I make it up there to glimpse the light,
to breathe the air,
larger, stronger, more voracious waves than ever before,
rain down, crash, and rape my every pore.

Its been so long,
so long lost,
fighting the sea,
that I can't even remember from when I came.
Where are these others,
those whom I find thrown to the depths,
from where have they came?

I don't bother to ask, there isn't enough time,
Just enough time to orient them,
to fill them with air,
to point toward waves above,
and before I know it,
there they go.

In or with, you decide.

 Rest in passion,
Move in peace.