I flow no more, soar into walls of aprehension, fly to die and wonder why my efforts turn nothing into less.
When I give up everything works, then I trip on words like birds in a gale, pale reflections of self are decrepit effigies of the shelved resolve to solve it all, shelled into darknesses unknown, unshown to the world.
No more do I care, with empathy torn from my mind I find a kind few to rewind me, unbind me from the chains of these places, to make me forget the broken faces of the ones I've faced, the blood I've taken and the honor I've forsaken.
When it's said and done no one can do anything, yet we all do, everyday in every way.
And when I find my way, I live to see my day I'll say I've been wrong all along, that a happy song is a song worth singing, but until then I deal with the ringing in my ears, the tears I cause and the fears I pause for.
: It's like Myspace!
If I may... I suggest living outside of the real. Not only will you experience things entirely new, but when you're done the actual will seem more significant. Do it. Do it NOW!
"You still haven't figured it out yet, have you?"
"Figured WHAT out?"
"I guess not. Have any hints for me?"
"Everything is a hint. Literally, to you, everything. Before, I alluded to the idea of a meaning for you. To the human mind,
meaning is the piece of information that provides a link between A and B, makes many things at once cooperate to form one,
uniform idea or perception. You see, for instance, someone murder someone. You assume there is a reason for it, meaning to it.
You don't know it, but you assume it is as such. Now say you talk to the murderer, ask him why he killed someone, and he tells
you that that someone raped his sister. There is now meaning to the event. The event itself is entirely unchanged, but you now
percieve it as a whole event, your question is answered. This is meaning. I'm not contradicting myself when I said that there is no
meaning to anything, and then turn around to profess to you that you have one. Meaning is created within a human mind. No
other form of being that can influence its environment other than human beings perceive meaning, let alone strive for it, and this
is why you, Micheal, are useful."
"I still don't understand why I am the one you want to fulfill your purpose, why I am privy to this knowledge when I will
ultimately, supposedly, be the harbinger of the end, the one to finalize everything."
"Micheal, you don't NEED to understand. Purely observatory beings, etherial conciences, will see meaning, will see outcomes, will
see all causes and all effects at once. They are not limited by 'time' or 'space,' as they are one with all of it. They have no desire,
no will, no such factors that cause them to focus on the singular, no attachment to self prohibiting them from seeing all. I've said
before, and I will say again, your entire 'universe' is an infinitesimal micron on an infinitesimal, one dimensional point. Just as
there are an infinite sleugh of realms and possibilities within your own, it extends the other way. No conscience can truly
understand how infinitesimal it is, nor how infinite. The only thing that can is the is, because it IS that infinitesimal, it IS that
"That's all very interesting, but what are you leading to? What do you want me to take from all of this?"
"That the only thing holding you back from what you would call 'enlightenment' and the Buddhists of your race would call
'nirvana' is your self. You perceive self, do you not?"
"Well I have to, else there would be no self."
"Exactly. What makes you think that the instinct to remain 'self' is right? Why do you cling so manically to your finite, limited
existence when in the back of your mind, somewhere, you KNOW that it is wrong? You struggle to exist, you strain perpetually in
a manner you call living, but why? Of course, there really IS no reason, just the is. You are."
"You're contradicting yourself. You ask me why I do what I must to survive, then say that there is no reason. To you I say that I
just am, and I know it's right, because I am. I didn't force myself into existence, I just ended up here, and since I'm here I figure
I might as well remain here until I die, when- and however that may be."
"Ah ha. Now we're getting places. You are, and you will die. Your 'science' says that matter and energy must be conserved. That
if it appears to disappear, it hasn't; it has merely changed forms. In a way this is right. Within the constructs of your little
playground that is, these rules apply. When something shifts out of your realm, something else comes in to replace it. But things
can be destroyed totally."
"So are you trying to allude to the ultimate fate of my being or something?"
"No. I'm alluding to the nature of things in general. If you take a molecule, any molecule, and look closely enough, what do you
"Atoms and space."
"Yes! Space! And when you look closely enough at atoms, what do you find?"
"Subatomic and quantum particles, fields of energy, and space."
"Exactly. The one constant is space. There IS a limit to how small things in your universe can be. In your math it'd be roughly
10^-189347828378001201420 meters. The smallest 'particle' as you'd call it fits roughly into that space. Go any smaller, and you
sift into the next dimension down, fall through the cracks in what you'd call reality and disappear. To any observer here with any
observational aid, present or future, the particle will have for all intents and purposes disappeared."
"Is there a point at which the same effect occurs in this lower dimension?"
"Oh yes, ad infinitum. It's exponential too. You have no idea how glad it makes me that humans can understand exponential
functions. They really are the only thing that even I know of that can come reasonably close to putting a definition on reality.
Although they ultimately can't."
"Whats the point at which things fall through this lower dimension into the next one?"
"Well, exponential carries a different meaning here. Imagine you have the number 10^10 written down. To raise it exponentially,
or lower it, in the way I refer to you'd have to take
10^10^10000000000^10000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000... etc.,
until you'd taken the exponent to the tenth power ten times and each time applied it to the number you've been working with. If I
wanted to give you a specific number for the osmosis level of the first lower plane relative to this one it'd take roughly 1100 years
to do so. SO, that is the best approximation I can reasonably give you given the constraints of our correspondence."
"Seems the best word for it, yes. We shall continue this another time"
"What? First you get me to hate you, then leave me questioning. Then you come back now, pique my interest, get me thinking,
and leave again? Yup, you're gone..."
Dreams are odd. While you're dreaming, you have a handle on it. Well, you're at least within it, experiencing it, a part of it. But
when you wake up, it's all gone. Nothing left but a lingering sense that something's off, different than it was before and the
constantly fading memories of the dream. You know exactly what's different, too; You. You just can't compartmentalize it into
words, earthly concepts. Only rough, unique sensations.
And this one felt epic, and not epic as in a quadruple kill in Halo, but epic as in the whole universe shifting, changing.
Hyperbole-free, if you will.
Work again. Mark didn't come in today, so I'm doing double duties. Now don't get me wrong, I'd rather be mopping than dealing
with the customers, but now that I have to do both I'm really starting to want to bring a gun to work. I'm not going to of course,
it's a metaphor. But still.
Even at work, even in this odious shithole, that dream is bugging me. The words "sifting down" echo through my head like a
trillion electrons, all orbiting the same, empty, point in space. See? See that? I don't normally talk like that. Normally I'd say bees
around a hive, or flies around a hunk of shit.
Sifting down. Sifting..... down. Maybe it means something. Down seems like in. But not in as in "in". It's wierd. A 4-dimensional
inwardness, I suppose. But down IS the word for it. What the fuck...
"How much is this Serta?"
"The sign says $1199.99."
"Yeah, but I was hoping you'd cut me a deal man. Whaddya say?"
"I'm sorry, only the manager can do that, and only with damaged merchandise."
"Well can I speak with your manager?"
"Because he won't cut you a deal man. Believe me, if I could I'd give away every damn one of these fucking mattresses for $20 in
my pocket, bankrupt the place and walk out happy, but as you can clearly see I'm far from happy, and you're far from getting that
fucking mattress for less than 1200 bucks."
"Excuse me? I could have you fired for treating me like that! I DEMAND that you let me speak with your manager. Now."
"Fuck you" was the last thing I remember saying to anyone in that store.
No more trying, no more resisting, no more feeling like I need to be here, like anyone depends on me or me on them, when the
fact of the matter is that if I walk away and never come back I'm no better or worse for it, and nor are they.
I'll eventually combine the first, this, and the nexts into one coherent body of work. Until then though...
"I am the one who killed your mother. I am the one who raped and sodomized you and laughed at your desperate sobs. I am the shadow of a man who chills behind the curtains, watching, calling the shots."
"Why? Why is marijuana illegal? Why are cigarettes legal? Why are we spending more money on 'defense' than we ever have, while our economy continues to implode in on itself? Why? Because there are people who control things, not the people you'd think either, that make a profit. Every aspect of our lives makes someone else money."
"What can I do about it?"
"Nothing. You could try to fight it, but you'll never know who or what to fight. You could ignore it, and just get sucked back in. You could rally every person in this country to the cause, but it wouldn't do any good. You'd all be gunned down in the fight against an invisible enemy, and the subsequent news reports would grossly misrepresent the actualities of the situation and villify you effortlessly in the minds of those left over to see the aftermath."
"Is there anything to do at all?"
"Know. Knowing is half the battle. Know and wait. Wait until you see the opening to strike at the heart of the corporate entity that runs the world. It won't seem as if it will do anything, but it will. You'll never see the results of your sacrifice, but twenty years from now your kids will look back at how the Corporation had the world in a stranglehold, and how you wriggled it out."
"Why do you tell me these things?"
"Because you question my answers. Many would disregard my lies as lies, missing the greater truths behind them. Many would accept my truths as truths, missing the lies behind them. You haven't verbally questioned anything I've said, but the device your parents installed into your flesh as an infant, the one designed to "keep you safe," tells me your every thought, and you're thinking that none of this is real."
"I may be."
"No, you are. And you're right. Reality hasn't been real for four thousand years Micheal. This is a sub-plot to a greater story. One paragraph on one of a million pages in the book that is actuality."
"Crazy? No. This, all of... THIS, this is crazy. The objects in this reality, you, me, this wall, are thoughts in the, for the lack of a better word, mind we are a part of. We are all tools in a process, cogs in a machine, all of the knowledge we gain, all of our accomplishments, all of it an on or an off on the switchboard that is the greater whole, all eventually cumulating into one, comprehensive answer to everything that is."
"What are you?"
"I am your way out. I don't exist in this system. I should say my existence is not known of within this existence. I, as you see me, am nothing more than one moment in that stupid, limiting concept you call time. Even referring to myself as 'I' is a misrepresentation, but the concepts I'd wish to convey to you here, in this place, will force you out of existence entirely."
"What do you want with me?"
"A story. The concept you call meaning is a deception. Even I, beyond your every capacity, your every perception, can never say that anything means anything more than that which you assign to it. My presence here within you, even, is meaningless. An exercise in the chaotic orgy of will and action that is everything. Everything I've said to you is wrong. Everything is wrong. The only right is zero, nothingness, equilibrium; and as you can clearly tell by the fact that you... "exist", that there is somethingness."
"...What the fuck are you talking about? What do I even call you?"
"Call me nothing. Calling me something compartmentalizes me into something finite, and in the sense of your perception I am infinite. You have been priveledged with intercourse with something greater than the whole of your... universe. What you conceptualize as "god" is lesser than I. I suppose I am here to plant a seed. 'Time' as you see it is just the progression of entropy, the self-resisting cycle towards zero. Me being here, now, will alter things. You aren't to know now, but it will be by your hand that somethingness comes to nothingness. By your actions, your misguided but ultimately righteous will to do. Your 'meaning' is infinitely beyond your tangible, finite existence, but your actions will take place within it."
"So you're telling me that my purpose in life is to end life? To erase from existence everything I've ever known, and to be right in doing it? I'm sorry, but I now know that you are evil in its purest form, and that I will never, EVER cooperate with you."
"But you already have. Why do you think I've introduced myself as a metaphorical murderer, rapist and dictator? So that you oppose me. I exist just as surely as you do, but the difference between you and me is that I'm not limited by the pitiful attachment to existing. I know that I, you, everyone and everything is wrong, and I strive to fulfil the one and only ultimate purpose; Entropy. And it will be, too. No matter how you act from here on out, you will always know somewhere in your mind of your purpose, and that will invariably cause you to cooperate with me."
"I have nothing more to discuss with you. I don't care if I'm a part of something greater and sinister, all I know is that even if I do fulfil this given and arbitrary purpose, it will be against my will, and I will NEVER have willfully done anything for you. Hello? Hello?"
Another strange dream... I should really stop taking those meds. I've been having dreams like this for weeks now. But it doesn't matter, they're just dreams, right?
Work. I sell mattresses to people that can't afford them, on credit none of them are good for. I'm not sure how this business is profitable, their operation is sloppier than tubgirl, but they still somehow manage to pay me $6.75 for every hour I spend there, spitting out capitalist propaganda at people who fall for it, and even feel good about going home with a shitty, overpriced square to sleep on.
Off work. I usually go to bars. I don't drink, but one might not be surprised how much drunken sex you can get out of bar-sluts anyway.
Home. Chelsea left. If that was her name. Or was it Chancy, or Charlie... Fuck it, I'll remember her name if and when I see her tits again. In case you're wondering; No, I don't objectify and take advantage of women. They choose to come over, they choose to fuck, and THEY choose to leave when I ask them to. Internets. Yeah. You know what I'm talking about. Once I've uploaded the hidden cam vids of the girls I bring over to rapidshare and pimp them on 4Chan, I move to Myspace to find a desperate, young girl who'll be easy prey. No, I'm not a rapist or a cereal killer. I like to tear people down with words. I never touch or see them, I just hurt them in such a way so as they can't do it back. Call a chubby girl fat, call a skinny girl a cokewhore, call a well-rounded, stable girl an ignorant, stupid teenager enough times and in enough different ways, and they'll harm themselves for you.
It sounds crazy, but what is sane?
Part two coming when I'm not gonna pass out if I try to write any more.
I know you're confused, but feedback is always appreciated.
For one to judge another is for one to first judge oneself superior of judgement to the other. So to say, to judge another is to judge oneself.
Everyone does the best they can. Everyone does exactly what they think is right, appropriate or becoming, and follows the same basic logical systems of reward seeking in their every action. For you to call your ability to see truth superior to that of another whose experience you've never had is simply arrogant.
Essentially, don't judge people you don't know. Shit, don't judge people period. You are the only one that you can judge, and you are the only one that can truly judge yourself.
Today being relative, so not as in the date this was posted, but the current time you're reading this. What did you do today? Forums aint no good for asking this, but if you cared enough to click on my name, for some fucking reason, then you probably have the time to expend to tell me what you did today.
What'd you do today? Did you learn anything? Fuck anything?
Lie, if need be.
::: Aborted fetus for kicks :::
Reality is different for everybody. There are physical coorespondances such as the matter around us and the societal views implanted into our heads from birth, but everyone percieves everything differently. We've all been trained by language to call things the same thing, but we may not all see it the same. A color blind person still sees things and calls them the same thing, but can't distinguish between the different wavelengths of light that we call different colors. A blind person can't see them at all.
Every sense we have can be tricked and is being tricked in subliminal ways all the time. Our periphory senses are used to make sense of things we aren't actively paying attention to, but they aren't infallible. When one smokes marijuana, for instance, these periphory senses are slightly inhibited, allowing one to focus on single things or ideas much more than usual, but causing it to be hard to handle multiple things at once. As a result of this the smoker's mind fills in the gaps with what it percieves and imagines, thus causing the paranoia commonly associated with smoking weed.
This effect is only an exxagurated version of the limitations we work with every day. There will always be someone smarter and more capable than you in every way, although not necessarily every way at once, yet even these pinnacles of human genetics are still imperfect beings whose senses of reality are limited to the six in everyone, the sixth being the subconcious which picks up on much more than we actively pick up on at any given time and forms your mind and personality through that.
Modern science is heralded as being a progress towards truth, which I suppose is true, but scientific thought is nothing but the closest approximation to reality we can come up with and not figure out how to prove wrong, although throughout all of human history every thought we've had about the nature of things has been proven wrong by some new advancement in technology or thought down the road.
Here's where I stop saying things I can prove and start putting forth conjecture.
All of reality works towards entropy, which is a pretty accepted part of quantum physics, and previous conventional thought says that matter cannot be destroyed, but through the discovery of black holes and antimatter and a bunch of other fun subatomic phenomena we've had to rethink that idea.
Here's where drugs influence my thought a bit.
When I was tripping acid I was able to think about a lot of things related to the nature of things from many, many more viewpoints and with many, many more new thoughts than before, as anyone who's done acid could tell you, and I was also aware of a constant effort towards entropy, everything wanted to come to a final rest and settle into oblivion. I saw basically points in space time that were multi-dimensional rifts of immense grace in their motion.
Later on that week I was reading about M-Theory, basically one of the most comprehensive theories we have to help explain the bridge between relativity and quantum physics and more, although it's not yet complete. It proposed that there were multiple dimensions of existence outside of the four of relativity. M-Theory ties together many of the string theories and some others through the parts of each that all match up and form a cohesive view of reality as far as we can see down and then a bit further.
These theories all propose strings smaller than the planck length in width (something like 10 to the -34th power), but two dimensional as opposed the infinitely small one dimensional points in space we were previously looking for, that tie together all of the forces and matter and everything in the universe, known and beyond through crumpled up higher and lower dimensions that intersect our own and others, and would replace atoms, quarks, gluons, hadrons, gravitons and the rest of the particles at that level as the fundamental things causing our universe to act as it does.
This is theoretical shit based off of the math and science we currently have rounded up, but it seemes to coorespond with everything I experienced while tripping. I think that the parts of our brain "we don't use", we do use, we just don't know how to scientifically measure and quantify these functions yet and as such don't believe in their existence. Acid opens up new parts of your brain and interconnects others to form radically new thoughts, many of which are indeed fictional, but most others although warped and skewed can grant deep insight into reality, simply from a perspective that isn't your own usual perspective.
People like to feel comfortable and rooted in their reality, so thoughts like these may scare them or make no sense to them, but the main point of this thing is to say that opening your mind up to new thoughts that may seem crazy to you may not be a bad thing, because I'm willing to guarantee that in 200 years people will look back at us and laugh at everything about us and how we were so stupid and ignorant etc.
There's black history month,
There're black colleges,
There're countless ethnic awareness holidays,
But what if we had white history month?
What if we had white-only colleges?
What if we had one little day to celebrate WHITE heritage?
We'd be called racists and chastized. Minority groups would make a huge stink. Remember the whole Colombus Day thing? That wasn't even anything big, yet it pissed off more than enough minority groups to make us shake in our shoes.
I'm not saying anyone's inferior to anyone as a race, nor am I saying that we need these things, I'm just saying to think before you throw out the term racism, because it tends to be a very one sided term.