Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Having again discovered the life of clairvoyance and mediocrity, I feel free. Something welling up inside of me has become mad with anti-fear and courageous might. I am weary of consciousness now and wish to remain in the REM bubble as long as my will would allow. Why then did I forcefully wake before the striking? Story told; dream left uncensored. But in all fairness I should have some dominion over the autonomous inner functioning early afternoon wake-up shot of noradrenaline.
Digression becomes more dubious than once believed and inferences are meant to be drawn from such a mess of angry vibes. I look to the darkness again..
..something that has never led me astray..
..a flickering of engagement..
...the sweat of anticipation.
....swift gust of passion
I go to move and move from the yearning to discover that which I am unaware of. But who is to say that my soul has not made noteworthy observations without me? In a twist of breath and a fleeting second it is no more impossible than it is possible to have left my body and become unrecognizable to the helmhold of humanity.
Movement among the trees, the air, the heat, the wonder of many cups and phrases all drawn from seemingly similar wells of knowledge and drama. This is meant to be, I thought, but possibly, very possibly, things are not meant to make sense in an egotistical self-descriptive form. The shades of colour then blend as one and fly off to a world more orderly, or simply, less chaotic (impossibility).
Trail in Erorr.
Leading backwards are the signs all persistently pointing to the untrue. This case is classically misunderstood. Meanings of life and pages upon mountainous pages of jargon are brought into focus (sharply dim) merely for one, solitary attempt at deciphering the code. Magic. Complex simplicities. Fourier Analysis. Those who entangle themselves too deeply into the lives of their existence find but hay in stacks of needles. Questions are too broad, general, lacking faith tied back to themselves. If man finds as answer, it is unlikely he will achieve complete understanding. Stranger than that is the notion of whether or not it has already been seen and passed along, tossed away as merely a bucket theory with a large whole in the bottom.
Bring him the book!
Bring her the fire!
If I took a step back to see what I could see from myself, I might find guidance and curiosity. Lacking both to greater extents than most might be comfortable with, I attempt to draw the lines that are required to be drawn within. Unwritten rules plague me. Toss this back and let it be done away with! Why would the mass in agreement of disagreement continue to allow the will of past to grope the soul of the present? Humanity is fickle and ignorant. It is too shameful to fathom.
Once change is set into motion it becomes increasingly difficult to decelerate to the baseline. This will be difficult to grasp for some of you guys, so I will break it down over the course of a few posts. Between the lines are a few moments of sanity and clarity. The page says a number of things on a day of march. A moon, a star, and the space. The entities kept close to the heart are shaken to an abrupt end. When my world came crashing down, a cryptic, obvious sign came into view. A question for you, an answer for me. Straight-up, given, received, processed, and adored. Undermining will lead down a path of uncertainty. Gladness filled my soul. I left that night and up I have seen all that which I required to see. A moonlit night and a twinkling speck of salvation. Lit a fire of hope, of cancer, of long-lasting kinship. I was ready to tear it out and leave it for the next to give it a whirl, wanting nothing to do with those things. That is, until you came along and gave me advice.
Leave it where it fuckin' is.
Grey (11:11 PM)