Are we living? Or are we the living dead? I have eyes to see but do I see the red bird in the tree. I have ears to hear but do they hear the bird’s song? I talk but do I know what I’m talking about? I smell a rose but do I really smell it? I hold your hand but am I holding your hand? I taste your lips but do I? I breath without knowing it. My heart beats 100,000 times a day without feeling it. I have about 15,000 thoughts per day without really thinking about more than 20. Are we alive, half awake, dreaming or dead to the world inside and outside of us? Is what you see, what I see? If not is this an illusion we are caught between birth and death? Can we trust our perception of reality? Or are we traveling through life blinded by our prior experience which we constantly project onto what we think and imagine reality is? In my opinion I think this is exactly what is happening to all but a few enlightened ones. How do we break this trap of illusions, preconceptions, bias, faulty sight and thought and conventions? By obliterating all of it! By destroying the connections to it inside ourselves. There is only one way to cleanse the mind of this trap of useless thoughts, chatter, and babble. Meditation. A commitment to seek nirvana or satori (Zen). To clear the mind and find the glory of infinite oneness. It is a life time commitment. Buddha spent his life seeking enlightenment, the awakening. When my mind was young and unmedicated I studied and practiced the art of Zen meditation. I devoted myself to it even though I was without a Master or a teacher. I reached satori once on the rocky shores of the pacific ocean without mania. And later an epiphany or nirvana practicing walking meditation on a 10 mile walk home in a baseball field in the middle of the night without mania. If I have learned only one thing it is to be Mindful, attentive to the present, the moment. With all the drugs I take now it is much more difficult to have a young mind and be in the moment. But I do try as I am right now. The beginning is always now.
I really hurt myself.
I hate my own heart for it forces me on.
You watch me in despair but all I can do is point to the pain in my psyche. Keep talking to me. I have reached the point where the pain is excruciating and it exceeds everything else.
I hesitate. I don’t want to hurt you now that you have a little picture of me.
But I really hurt myself. There is nothing left except: “I am so, so sorry.”
P.S. I am being held here (in life) against my wishes. But I am being well looked after. I will be ok.
I thought God rested on the seventh day and had a dream of me. Really, I was choking on my life and didn’t stand a chance.
I became the eye that couldn’t focus and I didn’t blink. Either I couldn’t sleep or I couldn’t wake up. Everything started around the age of seven. Slowly, I dropped out of life – unable to cope with the smallest problem, unable to settle down to activities or conversations with any purpose.
Once upon a time, my life was projected upside down on my retina. This is my interpretation of it for my mind feels like a set of fractured mirrors. I turn my back on the world. Feelings have been forced on me: something shoves me in the back when I am sitting, and makes me say certain things beyond my control. All is seen in the light of my own internal reflections. Here is a snapshot I took in the mirror just now:
I have just shot myself by accident. I appear awkward as I don’t like to remember my direct look. Any face in a fairground mirror is mine. Are you a fleck of gold? In time, I’ll tell if the light comes back at me. These are the fragments of a face; I have twenty eyes. Those are my hands. See what makes me tick. I start a laugh. From my view, everything is back to front and the long way round. We look into the glass only to see ourselves in it. The illusion is from our point of perspective. So I snap my direct glare again twice.
This is where I live. On the door is an old palindromic phrase, spelling the same backwards as it does forwards: ‘never odd or even’. I cannot work myself out even in front of a mirror. How to put on a coat is a riddle. I know I am in a photograph somewhere else in which my shadow is caught between me and another room. Whenever I look away, I lose myself. Don’t take your eye off me – I might not exist. By the way, that clock is ticking backwards.
I turn again to face the circle of the mirror but instead, there is a disc of solid black where my soul should be. Yet it is the multicoloured halo of my thought which astounds me. My name has false depth: I cannot distinguish its right from left. The time on the third stroke will be eleven fifty one and eight seconds. Pip pip pip.
Six days pass by the mirror. I pass the time in an odd grimace. Time goes right through my head like a sharp sound. I must be living upside down like in the curve of a spoon – as I can see through your eye but not through my own.
Where am I exactly? In reflection in your pupil. Give me time to take it in. Who am I? I am a shock of the brain; I live within your head. If I were you, I’d be whimpering by now. But really you are not me. You say something and I watch my face dropping and smearing. It smells of decomposition. I attempt to know my face by heart but in the end, I will see no-one other than you.
I have no idea.
There is nothing I can do about thought-theft now. I’ve been cut up. But what I write on paper presses through to the world beyond. If I stare at a point hard enough, I can see into infinity. My eye is a black hole in space; you’ll see me in the middle distance. That cuts both ways. So, I am well aware of bitter sadness – it is life’s bread and butter.
Everything is F%$#ING great! The IMOTIONHOSTING technical support is – well I’ve never talked to such intelligent and knowledgeable people - THEY make all other tech support people I’ve ever talked to ever sound like a bunch of DUMB ARSES! I had ANXIETY like a wild rat in a cage for the last few days and I felt like I had a coiled rattle snake in my stomach. Now I feel I can breath and dream again. This is all of our’s so let’s Rock & Roll!