The Endless Art Of Spinning.
A research final for the University of Tah'mpaAt first it seemed childish*,
So astray from a formibadle and eloquent approach. Like Tom Cincinatti having a giant burp-bubble amidst the job conference with Mr. Dogoodington from Dogstown PA.
Or,
Maybe even like Nedward C. Sloan the infamous broom-seducer who goes to online dating sites trying to find somebody new and compassionate.. Seeking somebody who does not already know about his regrettable broom incident. But it gets him every time, they all have already heard about it. The papers, the press, the local and national news reported that incident on full repeat between the Romney dog-rape incident and the usual rapages and pillagings done by the local sorority** hazings. The usual.. Soon Nedward changes his name to Needwart but yet none of it has been undone. The effects were worse than the crime itself.
*Replace childish with unorthodox and the previous examples would finely fit the definition.
Now, writing this in an appropriate way will seem slightly easier to approach after having gone through the above.
**Note that the word Sorority and Sobriety are subtly close in their linguistics.
"A dancer's step can cross the border separating life from death." Nor Hall- The Moon & The Virgin
"She who possesses rhythm possess the universe"-Charles Olson
Dancing carries a meditation and act of flowing through the waves of boundaries and as it passes through then aligns an acknowledgement of human balance.
The first four minutes of spinning are very alike in it's own way.. until a sudden bloom of crockpot dizzy madness emerges and instead your order and your rhythm seem more as a supernaut crammed into a tea-pot-kaleidoscope wheel.
Whether or not the act of spinning, if it can become the biggest craze, will be related or compared to such other practices that are popular such as chemically altering the self by use of household cleaning products is a guess. Considering that Cannibus* still penalizes the near-same conviction as heroin-use or whatever those other popular drugs are nowadays lessens the guess to more of a likeliness.
*This spell-check would like me to refer the word as being an 'error' and correct it with the word cannibal. Soon you will see the hilarity of this action.
Firstly, I believe, if thought can guide the actions of a society or citizenship that follows dictation then the best way to continue to control is to do so is by anxiety. (Through their own surrendering of will.)
As a large many are becoming aware of mechanisms of control and seeing the ways of creating the identity and patterns of those in a society, a method of grasping at the last straw arises to attempt to cage the rest of those who can easily be manipulated.
A shadow attempts to expand itself.
Will Waldo change his shirt so it is not as ridiculously easy for him to be tracked down?
Now to be honest I for the longest time had not paid a single grain of attention to the media or culture and that has been a heavenly hula of ukellele-playing and coconut-sipping bliss. (I stayed away from the parasite and it was nice.)
To note the massive gap of misplacement that arises when one tries to lean back into the current culture would only offer extremities of understatements. I surely remember being a (moreso) snide teenager and writing the Nestle-Quick sardonic punk rock anthem "Choke yourself to get high." It was a massively popular hit involving the subject of a then-popular high induced by the act of children choking themselves.
We will soon get into the ideas of very strange and desperate ways that cultures attempt to induce a 'new,exciting and satisfyingly guaranteed escapism!'
Not to badger or belittle the escapism, forms of Release are natural when natural acts of questioning are condemned.
Continue.
Needless to say, the longer amount of time gap refraining from enduring entertainment, pleasures, addiction and culture-conscious topics
the more insane it will seem to you and the more insane and foreign you will seem to them when trying to understand one another later on. (I'm only leaving Earth for a year now, so everything behave in sameness and be sure to breathe an exactness by the time I am back!) A culture current can be mighty wavy and fast so approaching it from the shore is a good reminder of many previous times of having getting sucked back into currents of thought then carried into stagnant marshes.
Now honestly I wanted to continue on with my coconuts and ukelele but an honest point refers a motion where your personal sanctuary begins to become invaded by outside ideas.
Before we go any further and I attempt to correct any seemingly cold-harshness directed to the self-inflicting pains being gone through by a collective I will introduce an expanded reference to the opening of this block of words:
Spinning in a circle, most notably a counter-clockwise circle, is an ancient practice in which exorcises many internal conflicts and actually spins conflictive suppressions out and away from the body.
(Psychologically, the idea is that, this is an effective immediateness to an altered state that does not damage the psyche. Though, a hook resides in that: the natural rebellion is not met in that: Knowing something that does personal damage fills that rebellious wound-infliction whereas somebody who feels mistreated may indefinitely lust for the state of knowing an irreversible damage is being done. These motions are still being considered and analyzed.)
It is interesting to think that certain breathing techniques may aid a similar calmness without any effects of deterioration or backlash whereas items punishable for obtaining and often mentally declining are the go-to item in these Western states. Meth lab/pharmaceutical cracker jack prizes.
Thinking that we are initially taught to walk in a straight line but generally kept away from the knowledge on how to breath relaxed or to learn to write with the opposite hand (to operate the balance of the brain hemispheres) seems as daffy as the world had seemed to me as I plunged back into it face-first once my coconuts were knocked and my ukelele was stripped away.
A single string poked out from the sand and I pulled my face out of the beach to stare at a torn out news-clipping.
It was something that first I denied and resisted facing.
But like all shadows, it had to come up at sometime.
What I already feared had already been present for quite some time. Maybe worse than the fear was that idea that I had to face it.
And like all shadows (selfs) it was better off to be faced sooner than later, whereas the longer something is left to reside in the subconscious/underworld/jar the bigger it can be allowed to grow.
Then here a demonstration of the thought itself proves once more to be dangerous than the action.
I pulled my head up to align the text to my eyes.
Face-Eating-Mutant-Zombie-Drug-Addicted-Overlords.
on the back was some story about a poor man and his broom-desperation.
You initially keep your non-dominant foot at the base of the ground and use your other foot to help guide your spinning.
Soon the dizzyness starts and you may or may not giggle at a volitile rate. At night time this works a wondrous effect when there is lightness at one setting and pitch blackness at it's opposite.
Therefore you can spin with your eyes open and the faster you spin the quicker the scene of lights from a set of streetpoles or lit windows,etc seems to combine into the area of darkness.
It truly is a blending of the light and the darkness, a ritual of the yin and yang, karma and dharma, hodge and podge, bugs and daffy, hades and eden, etc. And best of all, in this act of spinning, you feel uncontrollably absurd. Try keeping a regressed grumpiness when spinning full blast, barely keeping from splattering down into the grass. (A concrete surface is a method not even recommended for experienced masters of this technique.)
Eventually you will tumble but do proceed to pop back up in an imediateness of a bounce-like maneuver and continue that motion of spinning. This must be done several times.
This sends a signal to the mind that stores a new pattern in that
"Once I fall down I spring back up!
Once I fall down I spring back up!"
Truly, it relates back to that form of dancing.. almost.
Having stored that motion of falling but then recovering, it shall relate to aspects of later endurance where that extra oomph for a situation will revisit your ability.
That extra hill that you are biking up: You can make it.
That courage to never give up even though you've received the dirty-eye from eight people already, you're still going to sell that vacuum cleaner! it's that extra-oomph!
There is still hope-left, I have not seen every mountain I have not chartered every plain of humility: That extra oomph! Yes, moments such as that, all because you chose to keep spinning. It stores into your ability and will rework itself into later events where and when it is most needed.
Now eventually, after about 7-15 minutes of spinning you are ready to drop to the ground after blurring that lightness into darkness so many times and having giggled and staggered a sloppy and ever-growing width of your circle of footwork. You may bounce upon impact. Note: It is not discouraged to shout 'weeeeee' during these exercises. Weeeeee subtracts any and all indifference between yourself and the rest of the world. It is a warrior cry of uniting 'you and I.'
It will be a clear and starry night if the circumstances have gifted your practice of this rite. Once you slump to a stop in the grass keep a fixated gaze to the stars above you. Everything will appear to constantly nudge to the right. Do not fret, this is normal. This is the primal moment of thought fixation where you focus on a single star or a group of stars. Focus thought on absolutely anything you wish. It shall all be brought to amusement.
Picture yourself doing this practice again in 5 years: laugh at it. Picture yourself doing it 20 years from that moment, etc,etc. Then remember, if you can, the age you had first tried this.
It should not be uncommon for a child to have met the undoubted curiosity to spinning.
Keep the same curiosity of that spinning and pass that off to the curiosity of snowballs.
Remind others, during the winter, of your reclaimed curiosity in snowballs and enlighten them with it.
The self-willingness to perform the insane or the absurd seems to get the irrational out of the way and not only dealt with but actually enjoyed. Finding conflictions with your own morale and then participating in them very much challenges old rituals of thought patterns. Being in a frequent dine with the irrational allows any future and unplanned irrationalities to be shrunken down and perhaps met with a humor. If you cannot handle such a test of facing the built up idea of self there are mini-reflections of yourself that like to release movies with shitty sex scenes and endless explosions. Go watch one of those.
Note: by this point forward all contradictions are used as nodal intentions.
We reach down into our own depths find our sorrows and rise.
We rise from bed each morning and have a choice to life of seeming assurance or of seeming calamity.
The assurance can be the pattern of tasks which guide a day of knowing that another tomorrow will be
met.
And you will be fed and sheltered.
A bed with a cover and a container to excrete;
A current of water to wash excess dead skin and dirt
and a vehicle to feed like your body to feed to keep fulfilling tasks
to continue feeding your body and vehicle.
Sometimes boredom results from this pattern so new miniature patterns are put forth.
Often interests are crept into excess time where things the person truly enjoys are squeezed
into thought or practice amidst practices the person is rather unenthusiastic about performing.
This can excel in many fashions such as an office accountant browsing hobbiest websites to fulfill a mental amusement during work hours. A large percentage of business workers actually wear fancy underwear underneath their suites as to fulfill a gesture of excitement and needed indifference.
Note that 90% of all fact-percentages will someday be proven inaccurate.
Fulfilling that indifference of waging against the wage (or 'sticking to the one sticking it to you!') can be a natural rebellion coyly practised to feel a form of uniqueness and a revenge of the moment.
Thus why I personally do not think that ball-park flashers would truly feel their self-rewarded rush if nudity in the western society was deemed as natural. The rare task would simply just cease to exist. The uniqueness becomes massively boring to the degenerating mind once the 'weirdness' morphs into collectivism. Coming soon: The expressionism of tattoos will be regarded as so average that the new-unique will truly be the uninked.
The calamity, on the other hand: CaLAMity
It is no coincidence that once you take away the letters that spell Clam you get AITY which when rearranged spells YITA.
I will leave that for you, the reader, to figure out and move on to using the word 'seeming' before both assurance and calamity written far above. Since, going back through this, I feel charitable, I will admit that the last line is pure bullshit and would have only been time-wasting. Whether the rest of this would create such a result is up to your very own judgement. Discern everything.
I note that seeming assurance can possibly lead to just as worse a calamity as the calamity itself.
A muttling of overly-ordinary creates such a need and yearning for escapism that the escapism caters to whims of living a life outside of a life outside of a life. Actors act out the true desires while acts of accordance are acted upon.
Imagine a specialized existence of no chance and constant expectation. Niches filled and gaps stuffed, secretly, with the perpetual signs of wishful living. Restrooms filled with the employees of a hesitant hiding where the front doors offer an exit to the unknown but no more relied feeding of the vehicle and a possible sacrifice from the covered bed and excrement container.
Trying to pull the ekellele out from the sand and having the beach wettened with spilled coconut juice it was perplexing, to say the least, to have read that story.
Every grain of sand has it's own insurance card.
The movie White Zombie provided a great tapestry of social critique and the minimalist effect of beings serving under a spell. To me it seemed as a much more effective display of hypnosis or walking unliving than the over-dramatized effects of media exploitation. (Sometimes overdone effects and high budgets/explosions do not seem to replace the simplistic sets but irreplaceable emotions of a film with less explosions and cgi effects.)
For an dissimilar but great analysis on this movie read here.
We rise regularly all of the time in our lives when we are able to admit certain areas that can be met with improvement and then acting upon them.
Certainly to maintain an evolution the ego of personality must be smitten with a hectic force thus the self is killed, reworked and arisen once more.
An example of this is breaking the habits or undesired traits which you acknowledge and wish to change. These habits can generally be something you and you alone feel are necessary and not of a group mind or fashionable concept to abide to and change. Action places emphasis on creation and a conscious effort; Reaction can be a plea for survival and a response of something you may be hesitant or do not feel a full-heart in fulfilling. In short, is your choice your soul's desire or something a bunch of pink carsale-minded ruckmuckers wish you to change?
Thus the you of today is a different entity than the you that kept sticking your fingers in the fire-ant colony as a child. The action was learned. Antbites fucking hurt. The action was altered.
We see the sun fade we see the moon die but really they just vacate our site yet to the viewer, the participant, the missing of warmth or the veiling of light is still as real as it being truly vacated until the next calendar inscription.
The initial response to seeing a possibility of mass-panic.
I cracked open another coconut and wiped my mouth after a greedy chug to look at the ripped article once more:
Face-Eating-Mutant-Zombie-Drug-Addicted-Overlords.
Rising, too, consciousness takes place in those who can see a manipulation of energy. People who smell a facade but also realize this is all a game.
The game touches venus
the form feels like brass
the game smells of pollen
the deception smells like ass.
Some think it is a facing of the self and others feel it is an external enemy. Others see the self as the enemy.
Enemy:Enema; The mother must occasionally tide away the shores to cleanse her children. From where we birth is based upon our own worth. Say Touc'he say Douch'e we walk toward the primal fleet: wash away.
Either way it is a moment of overcoming an obstacle. (wouldn't it all be boring if it was too easy. Nothing to test the imagination. God allowing itself to forget itself.)
To me I will restate that in a world where the expectation was fed to culminate disaster and horror and the feeding of the blood-lovers (Note:not lobsters) then the absolute best thing to do to those curious about breaking free from patterns of misery would be to scare the living fuck out of them and back into misery.
A new pattern to catch folks away from the realization of self-management and back into the terror-plagued programs of mental dependance.
Everybody** wants to be a zombie, everybody fancies to be a zombie, but if, c'mon now, really, the "true undead" were to walk the earth, Lets be honest, they would be massively fucking confused because the dead would see the dead. "Who are we going to EAT now? They are all US!"
**Note: The term everybody can often be misused.
Following the regularities and universal tastes of a consumptive society, The sure way to 'keep ahead' is to tuck your own very head in.. To show how applicable you are to standards and to do the next person in.
If the undead-dead feast upon blood and brains then the undead-living feast upon energy, or guilt... The idea that we always need a label of 'sinners' or the 'evil' to use as a scapegoat to compare convincing humans that invasion of using your brain is casual.
The walking dead feast upon brain, the zombie-obsessed-living feed on never using one.
(Q: Is a statement like that of arrogance or of observation?
For what reasons may there be such an interest with becoming the dead, and
is it fair to say that the laws of nature being supressed internalize the feeling of us,
in our current agreement of participation have not known true,free living?
Name the last time you consciously or without knowing had got along just to know less,
as in all circumstances we have had to face 'blending in with the rational' to get by in a situation.)
I'm still finding that absolute amusement and seeing this experience to be hysterical serves as one of the most calming and interesting soothers(not to be confused with sooth-sayers.)
It's a heavy jolly to think that the word hysterical can interpret mass laughter but also an unkempt abnormality or imbalance. Finding incredulous joys of any situation instead of immediately reacting to one might make the categorization as askew very worth such a null.
Imagine the possibilities of Eden and the options of what human could express itself as given the removal of constant advertisements and programs of fear and on the other hand we have spirituality distorted... Really quite very big-headed, tall-shouldered, make-up powdered, dog-fucking figureheads mixing religion with propaganda and collecting freely-willed obedience and a world where one day an orphan wandering the interstate of a desolate highway will one time for sure come across an abandoned Vanilla Ice CD near a ditch side...which, makes the joke universal.
Note: Bolding certain areas of text makes it that much more important
My first response was 'they're already here.'
I was one of them and when there is improvement upon myself I will look back to this now and think of myself as that once more. The dead. Each moment of history to serve as a tomb of experience. We can bring up our memories to serve as ghosts to either enjoy, conquer or continue to fear. Tomb to womb.
To bring an old memory that once was startling or injuring to think about it and shine a light of learning through it in a way heals it and allows that phantom thought to see a light and then leave/move-on.
On the separate definition there is the ideology of what a social structure can create either willingly or unwillingly.
From fantasies to realities of the Elemental spirits we can find patterns of belief that occur through folk lore and travel through to cartoon movies. Often they swish from nightmare to fantasy but either way they transport through the collective no matter how distorted or elated. Writing off the imaginative or the reoccurring ability to wonder as dementia or psychologically imbalanced seems demented in itself. The very state of balance underlies the motion of nearly falling on your ass. We spin.
Given the very heating of a teakettle, if thought about after enough spinning, could be related as an easily overlooked form of transference. What the mental-state focuses on a person can begin regarding such simplicities of washing in water as a ritual to benefit from. Each interaction with the elements, if respected and acknowledged, may seem to allow a beneficial state of mind whereas the focusing on imminent disaster or parasitic need to 'escape' can be redundant.Absolutely every action can be morphed into an idea of ritual so perhaps being on ones knees in dedication should only reside in the phallic act and not of that to complete submission of godsend or blowing congressfolk.
I will now address a meandering of collective fantasy that builds over time:
If it is possible for a collective to induce reality over a conscious group-thought then let us regard the media subjetives:
Fear sells, love seems not to. Abundance eagerly gives gifts because it is impossible for it not to. Some may relate to that unstoppable desire and satisfaction of creating something that is one-of-a-kind and giving it to a stranger or loved one simply because of dedication/inspiration.
A furiousity of kindness enters my human intention when I find myself with loving spirits toward another and whereas a blankness once may have resided I, with that feeling of love and appreciation, flood with the intention of creating to express birthing from the thought of appreciation a symbol of physical result of those thoughts to then gift that person. The ability becomes so thick with intention that to interrupt my need to show an appreciation to the person that inspired me would be like trying to pry a 10 ft tall meat-eating dog away from it's scrumptuliscious steak during mid-dinner.
A million* news stories every day with the same message and same reason-of-rhyme with maiming and disaster and hopelessness and reliance will never regard the same feeling as a moment of love or joy that actually uplifts and records as a memory of a mental photograph meant to be framed up high. It would kill itself, an industry, if it allowed knowledge of personal growth and expanded. It would be self-suicide for a company to show a human independence, self-love or abundance.
Meanwhile dozens and hundreds of pieces of information serve as guttered stagnation left on the ground being difficult to keep from tripping over.
*One million exactly.
Mostly 'worldly' news pieces or stories are events that do not effect the viewer and cannot be helped by the viewer whatsoever. They are strictly horrors or maimings that have already occurred and present a depiction of a sad and helpless reality to the viewer.
The process of what the masses believe to be real may craft the results of birthing from that form of thought.
From the ether to the mental to the physical.
Thus, a reliant craze of fascination of the undead.
The Zombie is the new Princess.
Since royalty is obviously not in line-of-reach to fantasize about in the current hallucination of an economy; the buildup of death wishes and death-worship sprung upwards. I see dead people whenever I hear cell phones ring and peace symbols sell. It's nothing personal, I was dead once, too. And will be again when I look back to now.
There are proper ways to face the shadow of the self.
Surely any practice of such will lead to a temporary mania. (and considered absolutely inappropriate and improper by organizations or corporals that need your organs and corpses, noless your mind.) Yet in tribes that howl to the moon and through self-guided exorcisms of facing the 'hades' or inner thoughts that need to be faced these effects of mania or madness can be allowed curfews. Curfews recede at given times whereas uncontrolled exploitations of unsanity, uninvited, may be more dangerous to control.
Welcome the madness and have fun with it, in a playful facing of the darker sense of self whereas it is recognized. In opposition that 'darker' aspect of self goes on being denied and the proper rites of celebrating or exercising it goes and pisses it the hell off.
Instead [of treating the opposite with acknowledgement] some sort of fascination with the undead became as a basement of gutteral dilemma gone uncleaned for so long that it started to morph into regularity.
Fantasy became the singularity when it was not faced with the spiritual or mental rituals that a guidance of care and respect would offer.
Appreciate the rain, offer it to come, recognize it's ability to allow the plants and gardens to grow. Recognize what we consider dirt and filth to actually be pristine. If dead skin never shed... if the world always stayed dry... It's pouring fucking rain right now so hard that my plants are probably dying and homeless cats are soaked to the bone.
The trance grew more and more obvious. Shopping malls filled and tabloids snammering the spells over which mentalities must feed the blood-lovers. My own mind for the longest while felt as alien as my own DNA when passing such displays and feeling like a horse shoe on a skunk-hoof.
I screamed "Is there anybody out there!?" but nobody had answered. Still to this day it is hard to find an answer to that call.
Coming back to society the escapism of self-inflicted wounds seemed like a token impassable through every gauntlet of public reality. My heart had even fallen for those with shadows afflicted with addictions so hard to pry away from them that my attempts to understand and offer other healthier vices or offers became seen as a threat therefore the option of addiction became their higher hand. Stranger in a strange land.
Pay-phones pummeled and without facebook or prescription recreationals or a cellphone you're a godamn fucking freak uncool is cool but you're too uncool uncool to be cool then the nut eats the squirrel.
I realized the state of self-control must be in a serious jeopardy given the apparent high-swarm of numbers living some form of self-pain or another.
And we as a society started to refer to ourselves as zombies. Almost, consciously or unconsciously mocking the actions or cultures where the rebellion was merely left to be fashionable or any form of resistance or protest was met to the actions of online polls or email petitions.
Self-pain,self-confliction.
Without the proper respects of knowledge of the tribe the genetic urge to rationalize the present life as a gift from the Goddess and Gods confuses itself when instead sun ceremonies are blocked out by the shades of tall and bleak grey buildings.
The rites of life and death crawl into our dreams and birth out of our movies when not physically met with the ritual, yet they are all programs birthed along thought to material.
They were already here, so don't say they weren't, and I was one, too was my initial response.
Then again, in one way, to feed the public more stories much like Y2K or alien invasion or even 9/11 sometimes the fantasies serve as framework. Hail Eris We asked for this ride.
Not only did I feel an alienation so vast but I felt like I was becoming a dupe or snumberbarbleonomopous for asking too many questions for a short while.A point where I felt curious as to my own identity and just what made me me was something I felt I had to investigate on a personal level. The very act of myself questioning my own personal interests and tastes could very well lead to a risk I damn sure would rather take than having an accepted status among the pack. (or identifying my being with traits I was uncertain of where those programs came from.)
Everything was spinning.
Judging by the traits of identity I felt to go back and dismember any attributes of 'self' that were invoked by the following (as much as I could find and allow)
Television shows, catch-phrases, hereditary habits and peer pressures seemed more as a responsive suggestion than a noble characteristic. Just how much of a persons identity is merely the reflection of pop culture and traditional reasoning's grid-work? Books like Undoing Yourself With Energized Meditation served as hilarious and helpful works of recognizing the illusion of individuality and also which ways of duping your 'uniqueness' can be enjoyable and which ways that were painful could be shed away and re-worked.
Being a citizen by a meager unwillingness and feeling like I could not socially adapt to others because I did not take pain killers or even have an i-phone made me truly realize the strange states of a statement like 'they are already here.'
And when you stare at the stars while the world spins below and around you try to keep a focus on that singular or group of stars. While you are still laughing make sure to remember that what you are staring at is yourself.
The percentage of animals that are now extinct should show the true importance of building towers you don't necessarily care to look at.
After thinking about it for a while I realized that some body needed to mention the possibility of situations that could be maneuvered.. or at least to stir up the subject.
You could feed the public a story of collective horror. With so many movies that come out that seem to serve an input of how people will act and what maneuvers they will perform, it would be good to create events that follow the subject of such themes of internal imbalance if regression is the center point.
The teakettle creates hot water in a manner of minutes.
You awake from a dream and must relocate your earthly residence in a quick motion.
An action of uncertainty must be met with the primordial reaction of response: Attack? Strike? Retreat? Flirt? Coconut!?
Each moment, serving as a ritual or precious gift, drafts from a set of responses with some being much more conscious than others.
The allowance to believe that what is feeding you your basis of reality allows a permeation of further patterns of possibility. Base level programs program base-level reactions. At some level we will always be tape recorders playing back static as how we perceive it but how we alter how identical we rephrase our signals is something I believe we can manipulate.
Lets say that socks would become a sexual stimulation causing extreme hyper-eroticism. Give it one general week and all youtube videos ragarding socks would be 'adult/log in' only to view. Why is it that things that offer huge impulses of pleasure or questioning or understanding are ceaselessly erased?
Given you could convince the zombified minds of cultural submission to believe that the undead are indeed walking the earth and ready to kill you, the magic of conscious and consensual belief just may allow such a manifestation to occur. Zombies attacking zombies, The irony and it Is is. Waveforms do what when you are looking at them? These subjects keeps popping up, too.. So in theory, if our perceptions guide the conclusion of our very results then surely we can think of positive conclusions to manifest. Or, at least, funner and more pleasurable and fulfilling experiences. Free energy... naked redheaded women letting me paint cyan landscapes all over their bodies instead of beautiful women getting psychologically bamboozled by materialistic assholes. Hey I can outlash as much in my own writings as I want. I bet you didn't expect me to type this right now: The mothership is your g'damned mind and even as we recognize pain in this little ditty of an opera it's still all-fucking-right because there is a possibility that we are just experience-collectors. That doesn't sell a lot, though, in this reality.
Though internally I think we may in some sadistic forms become aroused and statically charged by some of the pains. Maybe it makes us realize or think or remind us that we are carrying out this physical experience much more vividly.
It lures that idea I try and understand more often and wonder if there is choice or if it is known, why some willingly harm themselves. How much opportunity there is to show a doorway or less pain to a person who seems to be so used to and can only really by that point feel pain.
To love somebody who is suffering by their own choices surges the knowledge that there is some body there who has belief in them and that is a gift to them. However there is also a pain and usurping among the person trying to hold the door open because the pain spreads to both when watching somebody you care for being self-inflicted. The might to hold the door open long enough is indeed a trying process.Intent is a very powerful thing to people who bow to no control system. Intent and act as you have, never giving in, and see how long the material result may arrive to you. Then think about your needing to sacrifice or live in abundance and tell it to piss off mayte.
But calling others 'zombies' is a ridiculous notion because labeling others as hopeless is a suicide in itself. And when I see such self-abuse occur there would be a massive anger or even egotism of thinking that others are of lesser value. Yet given the idea that shadows must be faced and reflections do occur I think that a living action to flood the gutteral and peer at the beauty may be a lesson so much more full of life.
The opportunity to manifest a flood of new ideas and possibility is an example to set to show that though the meager and deadly come true just as often the beautiful options are just as available. The Eden of abundance stands around waiting but goes unnoticed. It's is a moment to shift the sight. Look at Eden it's beautiful and waiting. we walk by it all the time right into the meat-machine. Oh look it's Eden but I ain't got the time Oh look it's Eden but my watch is around my balls oh look it's Eden...
Disasters unite, as it is often said, but they also thwart mental-programs if gone unquestioned.
Q: If on an island and the Queen dies, Does anybody Care?
A: Brittain is an Island.
Questioner: But you didn't answer my question!
The public anxiety since 9/11 has been such a noticeable camouflage of a retardation of trust between people that I have seen many more eyes drop to one's own shoes when I see somebody try to look into a strangers eyes.Fuck that, mentally reverse such programs and their effect by showing wonder in your own ways. Piss somebody off by loving them if you have to. Love somebody by pissing on them if you have to. Tell somebody they are beautiful rather than trying to get them drunk so you can fuck them sloppily since they wouldn't do you sober.
Going through each motion, the possibility of experience creates quite a story to wake up from and recite.
There are symbols of health and symbols of deterioration.
Every puritanical answer seems to have a regressing half-life because each set of new ideas that gets voted or vetoed in to the public persona will indefinitely change old truths.
New ideas bring opportunities of uplifting and redefining capabilities but all too often have societal standards attempted to hold down or rip apart any redefining ideas; but they must grow.
Enemies and renegades will naturally challenge the old ways but once old ways start to flex and change then these individuals or groups will possibly be seen as heros and bringers of new-ideas.Hilter forever changed the mustache and corporate america is very well embarassing ancient symbols. If three celebrities without shame donned an upper lip moustache it would slowly urge it in to being more acceptable. If we regained the knowledge, code and use of reinventing symbol our ignorance and prejudice against such divine ability would free the breasts and give the author about this nothing to write so tortuously about.
The strangest part is that when the occult ideas or seemingly primitive ideologies start to prove as more noteworthy and inspiring than modern and dogmatic reliant ways then all things "hidden" begin to actually come to light. and they actually seem better off or more fair than those systems that tend to cover up, exploit or label the 'dark' ways as evil. No darkness continues to be obscured when a focused light is offered in it's direction. It's always $#$&^#%! there but we're are our heads turned?
From patriarchies to test-societies or matriarchal and intuitive cultures, the land of dead or dying ideas can be put to rest by facing them and moving on. Then such a permeation of them actually being willed to grow into a reality of suffering can vacate and step the hell away from my favorite coconut trees.
Siamese Chess with the doppelganger man
where countries play each other
with toy soldiers in his hands
They screech rat-a-tat-tat
like uncontainable little kids
then he stuffs the soldiers in their box
and gently closed the lid
The Doppelganger man
places the countries back together
recites the word 'Pangea'
and thinks he's really clever
but someway some how
the doppelganger man
found it very clear
he's just staring into a mirror
He went to reach in
and pulled himself out
Check mate
You're free,
Don't like it?
Twattly waddly dee..
