The Endless Art Of Spinning.
A research final for the University of Tah'mpa
At 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..
