it's so strange to think that i am not what i thought i am, what i've thought of as 'me' my whole life. all the traits about me, my tattoos, my eyes, my voice, my love of music. i am nothing.
imagine losing everything. what does that include?
my guitar, my ability to play guitar, to write music, to hear and appreciate beautiful music, queens of the stone age, my mom and dad, their love for me, my life, my hopes and dreams, opiates, women, food, sex, freedom, sleep, the ability to be happy, being able to fall asleep listening to music or watching a movie, slint, polvo, simply being comfortable, feeling safe. those are just the good things though. everything is everything.
what would my parents think if i was gay and why am i afraid of that? what would my friends and peers think? they probably wouldn't talk to me anymore. they would probably judge me (oh no!). what if they found out that i was really into raping and murdering little children? imagine what they would say, the reactions on their faces upon finding out. pure, unadulterated hatred mixed with the blackest, most vile disgust.
or maybe there would be disbelief.
freedom is an important thing to me. i've been locked up before and i don't want to be locked up again. it's not an enjoyable experience. i really take for granted my freedom. can i really be locked up though? who (or what) is being locked up? i never even had to go to the hole.
another thing that terrifies me is being physically restrained. when i was a kid i got bit on the nose by my mom's dog and had to go to the hospital. well the doctors had to tie me down while they did whatever they did because i wouldn't sit still. i was kicking and screaming and it was one of the worst feelings. i felt like i was suffocating.
i'm trying to imagine taking that even farther. what it would be like to be permanently restrained in a room with no light, no sound, no smells, nothing. unable to move or experience anything (except being restrained). that would drive me nuts. it would literally be agony.
Monday, October 26, 2009
intent
what is drawing me back into this? why do i keep wanting to look at this stuff and figure it out? am i not happy with my life? is it merely curiosity that is drawing me back?
'there will come a point where your intent strengthens, it builds up.'
i guess the reason i'm afraid to question my intent is that i'm afraid. i'm afraid that my intent won't be genuine and i will see that and realize that i'm just doing this because...i want to be different from other people or something like that. the truth is, i'm afraid that my motives won't be genuine and when i see that, i'll stop. i won't keep doing this.
and why is that such a bad thing? why would not doing this be so bad? because that would mean going back to my life, my meaningless, pathetic life, which doesn't make any sense.
so that's it. i'm trying to use this to escape from my life, from my self. if i had virtually unlimited money, beautiful women, respect and love from everyone around me, would i still be doing this? even better: say i had unlimited, pharmaceutical-grade heroin; would i still be doing this?
i really don't know. it's doubtful, because i am a pretty weak person.
what is drawing me back into this? where is this coming from? why do i keep putting myself in this position to look at this stuff, when it would clearly be easier to just drown myself and whine, and go out and have fun.
'there will come a point where your intent strengthens, it builds up.'
i guess the reason i'm afraid to question my intent is that i'm afraid. i'm afraid that my intent won't be genuine and i will see that and realize that i'm just doing this because...i want to be different from other people or something like that. the truth is, i'm afraid that my motives won't be genuine and when i see that, i'll stop. i won't keep doing this.
and why is that such a bad thing? why would not doing this be so bad? because that would mean going back to my life, my meaningless, pathetic life, which doesn't make any sense.
so that's it. i'm trying to use this to escape from my life, from my self. if i had virtually unlimited money, beautiful women, respect and love from everyone around me, would i still be doing this? even better: say i had unlimited, pharmaceutical-grade heroin; would i still be doing this?
i really don't know. it's doubtful, because i am a pretty weak person.
what is drawing me back into this? where is this coming from? why do i keep putting myself in this position to look at this stuff, when it would clearly be easier to just drown myself and whine, and go out and have fun.
Friday, October 23, 2009
how can no-self want to get out of self though? obviously, it can't. can it? why would it want to?
me, i, my ego does not want to be a lie anymore. yet, my ego IS the lie. so what's more important (to me), not being a lie or self-preservation? not being a lie is definitely more interesting. that's why it's so hard to get to the bottom of this stuff, because your brain is wired not to even THINK about anything that could lead to its death. which is why you have to force yourself to do it.
let's just say, that at this point, i really know nothing about no-self. not really, anyways. but i do know about my self. so i've got to get out of this madhouse.
i've got to get out of myself.
i need a fucking bomb.
me, i, my ego does not want to be a lie anymore. yet, my ego IS the lie. so what's more important (to me), not being a lie or self-preservation? not being a lie is definitely more interesting. that's why it's so hard to get to the bottom of this stuff, because your brain is wired not to even THINK about anything that could lead to its death. which is why you have to force yourself to do it.
let's just say, that at this point, i really know nothing about no-self. not really, anyways. but i do know about my self. so i've got to get out of this madhouse.
i've got to get out of myself.
i need a fucking bomb.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
unique
i can see how i am false. it makes sense to me, and it's interesting, but it doesn't infuriate me. obviously, i'm not upset about it. i must not really be seeing it--not clearly at least. and without that, i probably won't have the proper motivation needed to shrug off the man-suit. so i need to get upset about it. i need to find all the reasons it pisses me off.
who is really getting pissed off, though? the man-suit? i'm just the ghost underneath. i guess the only thing holding my attention right now is that i find all of this extremely fascinating. i'm not really mad about anything. not in the way julie from SIE is mad. then again, i didn't dedicate 15 years of my life to following someone else's imaginary bullshit. or did i?
what are all the things i believe in? truth, passion, honesty, respect, love...what else? why do i believe in those things? why don't i believe in falseness, laziness, disrespect, and hatred? probably because they don't bring about good feelings. but this isn't about good or bad, because those things are still just part of the dreamworld.
what am i afraid of? what am i hiding from? what do i not want to think about? it's like those things are buried so deep in my mind i don't even know what they are, that's how terrified i am of them.
Who am I?
i am zach. okay, this seems like a simple answer to the question. but i don't see anything wrong with this answer. hold on a minute, maybe i do. i am a name? just a name? nothing more than that? some made up word. that is what i am.
well that doesn't seem right at all. how can I be something that was made up? i can't have always been this thing obviously, but when did i become it? truthfully, never. someone else decided that this was my name either before or after i was born--i had nothing to do with it. so what did they do to pair me with it? say it over and over again to my face? teach it to me so that i would learn to come whenever called? like a dog?
no, i definitely can't be zach. it's just...a name. some scribbles. a picture. how can i possibly be a picture?
okay. so who am i if i'm not zach? it's weird to think that i have no association to that name whatsoever. that it isn't me, because i've always thought of it as me. ZACH. it's so familiar, i know it so well. how could it not be me? because it isn't anything. just a name. and it existed long before me, i certainly wasn't the first one to have it. i guess what i'm really asking is, am i unique?
am i the first me? i don't see how there could be possibly be more than one of me. there is no one that is exactly like me, and even if they were, they still wouldn't be me. i am...an individual... that sounds so pathetic. because i know it isn't true.
but still, i feel like i am the only me.
who is really getting pissed off, though? the man-suit? i'm just the ghost underneath. i guess the only thing holding my attention right now is that i find all of this extremely fascinating. i'm not really mad about anything. not in the way julie from SIE is mad. then again, i didn't dedicate 15 years of my life to following someone else's imaginary bullshit. or did i?
what are all the things i believe in? truth, passion, honesty, respect, love...what else? why do i believe in those things? why don't i believe in falseness, laziness, disrespect, and hatred? probably because they don't bring about good feelings. but this isn't about good or bad, because those things are still just part of the dreamworld.
what am i afraid of? what am i hiding from? what do i not want to think about? it's like those things are buried so deep in my mind i don't even know what they are, that's how terrified i am of them.
Who am I?
i am zach. okay, this seems like a simple answer to the question. but i don't see anything wrong with this answer. hold on a minute, maybe i do. i am a name? just a name? nothing more than that? some made up word. that is what i am.
well that doesn't seem right at all. how can I be something that was made up? i can't have always been this thing obviously, but when did i become it? truthfully, never. someone else decided that this was my name either before or after i was born--i had nothing to do with it. so what did they do to pair me with it? say it over and over again to my face? teach it to me so that i would learn to come whenever called? like a dog?
no, i definitely can't be zach. it's just...a name. some scribbles. a picture. how can i possibly be a picture?
okay. so who am i if i'm not zach? it's weird to think that i have no association to that name whatsoever. that it isn't me, because i've always thought of it as me. ZACH. it's so familiar, i know it so well. how could it not be me? because it isn't anything. just a name. and it existed long before me, i certainly wasn't the first one to have it. i guess what i'm really asking is, am i unique?
am i the first me? i don't see how there could be possibly be more than one of me. there is no one that is exactly like me, and even if they were, they still wouldn't be me. i am...an individual... that sounds so pathetic. because i know it isn't true.
but still, i feel like i am the only me.
killing yourself for curiosity
death is not the worst thing in the world for one simple reason: no one has any idea what happens when you die. so what's the big deal?
jed mckenna
i never wanted to be enlightened. i'd never even heard of enlightenment 'til i read jed's books, and even then, i didn't know what enlightenment was. how could i want something without knowing what it is?
jed's books were interesting to me. i wanted an escape, and that's what they provided--an escape into a fiction, and a very believable one at that. suddenly it was like a real-life version of the matrix.
anyway, i still think he had some good wisdom. i think the main point in his books is 'think for yourself.' what else can we do, really? don't let someone else tell you what to do, say, think, or be. just figure it out on your own.
a lie
i don't want to be a lie anymore--i can't be a lie anymore! i'm so disgusted with myself and everyone. the smell of fear is rank, and no one knows what they're doing or why they're doing it.
i won't be a lie anymore.
flushes of extreme melancholy
i'm tired, i'm tired of pretending to enjoy anything. why? why do we even try? why do we anything? i know there is no why, but still, i wish there was.
it's weird that we have choices and taste--why should one thing taste good to one person yet not to another? it's weird that we have choices...
what if i had a problem with having a problem?
i think my greatest fear is death and i feel that i can no longer shy away from this fear. i feel i must confront it fully.
i know too much!
i am done shopping the mental marketplace. i'm going to burn every thing i ever bought. the truth is, i don't know everything, but i do know a lot of things, and therein lies the problem. i know too much! lies, all of it!
why can't i just be perfectly content wherever i am, whatever i'm doing?
how i do kill my ego and why do i want to? i think i'm supposed to acknowledge the things that i'm too afraid to acknowledge. i want to because i don't want to be a lie anymore--i can't continue being a lie.
i need to figure out what my greatest fear is. is it fear of no-self? what would it be like if there was no i, if there was no me? can i even imagine that? is it possible to imagine something without there being an i?
what is love?
what is love?
love: a strong positive emotion of regard and affection.
so love is comprised of these two other feelings, regard and affection. what is regard and what is affection?
regard: a feeling of friendship and esteem.
affection: a positive feeling of liking.
what is friendship and what is esteem? what is liking?
friendship: the state of being friends.
esteem: the condition of being honored.
liking: a feeling of pleasure and enjoyment.
okay, things just keep getting broken down here...but i'm not sure we're getting any more precise. what is the state of being friends? it's when two people indulge in their fear of reality and cower behind thought together.
honored: respected.
pleasure: a fundamental feeling that is hard to define but that people desire to experience.
ah. now that's interesting. it's hard to define, but people desire to experience it. i guess it's just the way their brains are wired. in which case, good and bad is all relative.
enjoyment: the pleasure felt when having a good time.
my brain is getting tired, i have to take a break.
all you need is love
is being awake or truth-realized just like being asleep in a dream, only you know that it's a dream, so you're not afraid of anything because it isn't real? it seems what this process is largely about is getting over deep-seated fears. as far as i can tell, i am fear. because if you take away all fear, what is left? love? what is love except a byproduct of fear? if there wasn't fear, there would be no need for this tangled mess. if we weren't afraid of death or no-self, we would have no need to propagate this big fantasy world, therefore...where's the love? you have to have a reason to love. if you're truly not afraid of being alone, then do you really need love?
someone said that human beings can't live without love. i'm wondering, do i really need love? i imagine without it i would become very sad and depressed, and those are negative things that i've been taught to fear and run away from. perhaps i should embrace sadness and depression. love isn't real anyways, i can't prove it exists...do i really need something that's made up?
loving and being loved makes me feel good--makes me feel great, as a matter of fact--but...this isn't really about feeling good.
tooth decay
so basically i'm going to confront my demons one by one and hope that i've got enough guns and ammo to make it through the process. it's going to leave a blackened, bloody battlefield behind, and i can't imagine it will be the least bit pleasant. but i will persevere...nothing will stop me. i'm going to torch my sails and bomb my ship until i start to sink, plunging to the bottom of the ocean...and then i'm going to sink some more.
"just try to say something true and keep at it until you do."
something true... why does the ego exist? is it just a coping mechanism for our fears? are all of our emotions/reactions learned? i mean, obviously, but what about feelings? dogs feel fear...are they egoic creatures, too? but dogs don't plot and scheme against each other...maybe that just means that they're not smart enough. so fear must be built into us biologically...it has an effect on our physical bodies when it takes hold. increased heart beat, fidgety movements, weak feelings in the stomach... so that's the physical manifestation of it.
what is there to be afraid of? everything is okay just the way it is. my parents will die eventually--yes, i love them, but i have to recognize and accept this fact. they could disappear from my life at any moment, and that would be okay, i guess.
i am afraid that if i don't brush my teeth, plaque will build up on my teeth and cause decay and eventually pain.
why am i afraid of this?
well, for one, i don't like pain--especially tooth pain... for two, i have learned that it is a "bad thing" to have bad teeth, so i want to have good teeth, so that i can be loved and recognized by my peers. you know what? it doesn't matter how much they love and recognize you, it isn't going to change anything. say i had the ultimate love and recognition of everyone in the world--would it make me happy? or do you only want those things when you don't have them, like sex, food, sleep, or warmth? why would i want love and recognition? am i afraid of being unrecognized or unloved? would that mean that i don't exist? what if i was ghost, able to roam and observe the world, but not allowed to participate in it? that would be horrible...i would watch all of these people living their lives, doing whatever... why would it suck to be a ghost? because once again, i wouldn't be part of everyone else. i'm not really part of everyone else, anyway, because there is no everyone else. it's just an idea i've created in my head that i'm clinging to. there is no 'everyone else.' i am alone, completely and wholly alone...i just need a while to get used to the idea, because i still think in terms of being part of the human race.
what came before my ego?
if i get rid of all of my fears (i'm not sure if that's possible), will my ego go away, too? i think my ego is comprised of more than just my fears...or maybe not. maybe my ego exists only because of my fears. if my ego is just the collection of thoughts that runs rampant in my head and it's based on my fear, then will abolishing fear abolish my ego? is it even possible to kill the ego?
so far the only thing i know for sure is that i don't know anything for sure. there isn't any meaning to life and the only thing i can really prove to myself is whether i'll die or not if i kill myself...but i'm too afraid to do that. would that be proving it to my self, though, or would my self die in the process?
what makes me feel good about my self?
i feel good about myself when i receive validation from other people, people who are not my self. when someone tells me that they like the way that i do something or the way that i look, that makes me feel good about my self. why? because i want the love and recognition of other people. but there's no such thing...i forgot...i'm completely alone. why do i want those things? i want to be loved and recognized because i want to belong to a larger whole--i want to be a part of something. why? because i am afraid to be alone. so i trick myself into believing that i'm not alone.
has my ego always existed? what came before my ego? nothingness? how did my ego come into being? has he evolved and changed? evolved? yes, he's more clever than he once was, i suppose--he covers up his tracks better. changed? oh, definitely; the ego i am today is not the ego i was 10 years ago...although it is...
lonely
i'm thinking about how i'm totally alone in the universe and it sucks. i don't want to be alone, i want to have friends and people that love me. i guess that's just the nature of me...although i guess that's not really my true nature, because it was learned, after all. i am completely alone, and i hate to think about it, but i know i must. it is the truth and i'm done running from the truth. i don't care what it is, i want to face all of my fears--all of them! i want to know every little thing that makes me scared and i want to have a staring showdown deathmatch it. i'm burning all the bridges, so either face me and die or run.
i am completely alone, and i accept that.
the ego perpetuates itself with thoughts...thoughts upon thoughts upon thoughts upon thoughts. it's like we're playing this big game where all we do day and night is try and fill the void in our selves with thought. because the void is there, we just try and cover it up. we're not comfortable with the void for some reason.
further
i know this is about confronting my deep-rooted fears--the fears that act as support beams for this whole illusion--but i'm having trouble figuring out what those fears are. what am i afraid of?
i am afraid of death. i am afraid of rejection. i am afraid of...what?
okay, so i know that i'm afraid of death. how do i confront this fear? how i stare it straight in the face? how do i become comfortable with death? i could try sitting around with loaded gun pointed at my head but somehow i don't think that's what this is all about.
what is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me? would it be facing my own death or seeing the ones i love face their deaths?
why am i afraid of death?
i am afraid of death because i have learned to be. i have learned to be afraid of death from other people. the dream has taught me to be afraid of death. if death comes...sadness will follow, and that's what i fear...the coming of sadness. that's not right... i think i hold on to people and things so dearly that i don't want to lose them. i've got to realize that there's nothing to hold on to in the first place...i'm floating in an air bubble and i always have been...
when did i first become afraid of death?
i can't say for sure, but it seems like something i would've learned to be afraid of early on. when did i first understand death? was it at that same moment that i became afraid of death? death means, 'the end.' why is that scary? my memory doesn't serve me well enough to know when i first became afraid of death, but i know that i haven't always been afraid of death. there was a time when i didn't understand death...and it was at that time i wasn't afraid of death. once i understood death, i was afraid of it. i wonder how i learned what death was...i wonder what happened that exact day. i wonder which day it was, what i was doing...
what has to happen in order for me to feel the fear emotion?
seeing someone i love about to die, dying, or dead. realizing that that source of...emotional fuel, perhaps...is gone. what about seeing some thing i love die? for example, the death of music; what if all music died and never lived again. would that trigger the fear? in order to get over this fear, do i have to watch people i love die? there has to be a better way.
when did i decide to be afraid of death?
was it perhaps right after i understood what death was? maybe i wasn't scared of death when i first understood it...there was a period of simple acceptance...but no, that doesn't seem right. i'm pretty sure once i realized what death was, i decided to be afraid of it. i'm not sure if it was a well thought out, conscious decision...i was probably very young.
what is death?
death is loss; defeat. god, i can't fucking expect to live forever though, can i? i mean, seriously, everyone's going to fucking die someday anyway and there's not a damn thing i can do about it. am i stupid? i need to get a fucking grip--this fairytale world isn't going to last forever. i need start acknowledging some things. this--everything i know, every thought i have--will-not-last. everything i know will die, eventually, and i've simply got to accept that.
my mom's gonna die, my dad's gonna die--they might even die before each other. my mom could die in a car accident--imagine what that would be like...to go home tomorrow and realize that my mom is dead...to realize that i'm never going to see her again. we're obviously not our bodies, because i would probably see her body again and she would not be there. THIS SCENARIO IS A REAL POSSIBILITY...i need to accept it. it could happen...
i want to know that i'm making progress so that i can know i'm going in the right direction. how do i know if i'm making progress? i feel like i'm making progress...i'm already confronting some fears. i need to keep going, to think about the death's of every person i know. i need to imagine what would happen if everything was stripped away from me, what would that be like?
music is my life--what if i went deaf tomorrow? i would have no life, no passion--nothing would mean anything anymore. nothing would make sense. i would feel anguish and sorrow, hatred towards the world and everything in it. how fucking unstable is that thought process? this is a real possibility and i need to fucking accept it. i could go deaf tomorrow and never hear a sweet drop of music again...
what now?
ok, so i'm a fictional character in a dream world. everything i have ever known is a lie...great; what now?
what is true? does it even matter?
on the point and plane of existence
death awareness. i have just recently discovered this idea and i...haha...want to think about it more. so much damn thinking.
i am trying to figure out right now if i exist and it is seeming that i don't. how can i prove i exist? i have no idea... then again...does it even matter if i do or do not? i could ask who or what am i, but what does it matter if i don't exist? maybe it does matter, but first i have to figure out if i exist or not. do i exist? how do i find out? what is existence but another thought, another puzzle piece in the logic game?
"if you want to discover what's real, you need to go to the place that you have set off limits for life."
where is that place for me? where have i set off limits for life?
ego is...
'ego is a conglomerate of thoughts in memory.' that's how someone else put it and i like that--it makes sense to me.
i am totally and completely alone. there is no one here but me and there never has been. no matter how much i think i'm talking to someone, i'm not--not really. sound waves run through my ear canals and get converted into electrical signals in my brain. i react to those signals and rub my vocal chords together in learned ways and i think--the keyword here is 'think'--i think that i'm having a conversation, through that simple action/reaction. this exact same thing happens in my dreams--i have memories of it happening--but does that mean that those people in my dreams exist? it's all a fucking memory--without memory, the human would not function the way it does.
i am sooo alone and i always have been--i've just been pretending otherwise. why? why have i been pretending that i'm not alone? it took me all of ten minutes to figure out that i have never spoken to another person before--well, i've gone through the motions that define 'speaking' but what are they? still just motions, no different from the motions of eating a child. why is the thought of killing another person so scary? how is unloading the payload of a firearm different from doing anything else? the only thing that makes it different is thought. because truthfully, it isn't.
but what's really interesting is, knowing that, figuring it out for myself like that, do i believe it? does figuring it out like that overcome the fear of doing it? could i kill another person?
why does the ego try to perpetuate itself? why does it want to live so desperately?
real or unreal?
a question i found interesting that another truth-seeker (funny that i'm calling myself that now) asked some time ago: is the dream real or unreal?
how can i know? well, first things first, what is real and what is unreal?
real: having verified existence
there's the definition i find for real. so 'real' is a label you apply to something if you can verify its existence. you say 'real' if the property of 'existence' applies to an object in this big puzzle. is my skin real? first answer that comes to mind, yes. i can see it, feel it, touch it...sense it. so now we're saying that the existence of any one thing is contingent upon my sensory experience of it. next most obvious question under that pretense...is god real? well, i have no sensory experience of god...or what most people define as god... what do i define as god? an apple, a pear, some compost out in the yard, what does it matter to me? either god shares the same name as something i have had sensory experience of or he doesn't exist...or i've not experienced him yet. either way, does it matter? i could try seeking him/it out, but why? what's the point? does someone say that he'll bring me eternal happiness and peace, love and the answer to all things? what if i don't care about those things? well...maybe the answer to all things would be nice... but even then, how am i gonna know for sure if someone else is telling me...even if it's god? he still isn't me...or wait a minute... maybe i am god. huh...never thought of that.
if i'm god--who is, we've already established, not within the boundaries of definition--then i am everything and anything, which makes absolute and perfect sense! god is the only thing that seems to be without definition or verified existence (so far)...and lack of verified existence indicates irrelevance...except for maybe some observational fundamental questioning... this is all very interesting.
so, back to the original question: is the dream real or unreal? the dream being...my life as i know it? i can't say for certain...
it's funny; i wrote a paper in high school for my creative writing class about this huge quest-truth that i was going to go on. it was totally off-topic for the assignment, but the teacher liked it, writing, 'good luck in your quest for truth,' on my paper. i had no idea back then that this is what it would really be like.
who am i?
who am i? this is the question i keep asking myself but i can't seem to find an answer to it. i don't think i really understand the question. i don't know what 'who' means.
who: the pronoun who, in the English language, is the interrogative and relative pronoun that is used to refer to human beings.
who: the pronoun who, in the English language, is the interrogative and relative pronoun that is used to refer to human beings.
so the word 'who' is used to refer to human beings. well then, what's my identification number? zachary dean wright...i guess that's who i am. a name? and what more is a name than just an idea? what if someone had the same name as me? would we be the same human being? say there were two zachary dean wright's and one believed that acts of self-mutilation were cathartic and the other did not...are they still the same human being? i think we've figured something else out. 'who' isn't just a name; it's the name and all the ideas, beliefs, concepts, and bullshit that goes under the name. 'who' outlines the differences of people. just people?
who is god?
first of all, does god exist? because if he doesn't, does it matter who he is? i could say, 'who is jin-jin allah mangore char-la?' but would it really matter if he didn't exist? who is zachary dean wright? or more interesting...does zachary dean wright exist? because if he doesn't...does it really matter who he is?
why am i thinking about god in the first place? if i hadn't heard about god from other people, would i ever have given him a second's thought? it seems like so much interest and effort goes into maintaing this person that no one can seem to prove exists. and maybe he does exist--i'm not saying he doesn't--but does it really matter who he is if we can't prove he exists? i'm just glad i wasn't brought up being conditioned to not question his existence--i may have never climbed out of that hole.
say something true--i dare you
"just try to say something true and keep at it until you do."
how will i know when i've said something true? if the only thing i know is bullshit, then how will i know the truth when i see it? maybe that's what truth is--lack of bullshit.
what i'm wondering is, why isn't everyone doing this? why isn't everyone trying to think for themselves? why does everyone just let the thoughts, beliefs, and ideas of people far dumber than themselves walk all over their minds? maybe they're the dumb ones. is thinking for yourself really more intelligent? it seems more logical at least...
the only reason i can think of as to why people don't think for themselves is because it's scary. it's scary to have to figure things out on your own, to really look at your SELF. self. what the fuck is that? we talk about it like we know, but we don't. what is self? what am i? where am i? how did i get here? who am i? that's a question i don't know how to answer...
say something true--and don't be afraid to; if it ends up not being true, you can always try again. well, here goes...
i...am afraid to die. i am afraid of death. i am afraid of dying. if i were to put a loaded .45 to my head right now with the safety off, i would feel uncomfortable. why? what am i so afraid of? i have no idea what will happen if i pull the trigger. i suppose i imagine i will die...that or great pain will be inflicted upon me and i'll live, but mostly i assume i am imaging my own death. and what is death? as far as i know, it's something i've never experienced. is it the end? the end of what? me? what is me?
when i think of death, life comes to mind. my life. the things i enjoy--eating, drinking, music, sleeping, fucking, breathing--the people i love...and i think of them dying too, i guess. not really dying, but i think of losing them. do i really have them, though? do i own them? i know i derive pleasure from them, but does that make them mine? maybe they don't really exist, maybe it's all in my head...but i don't believe that.
why don't i believe that? there's nothing that says otherwise...well okay, maybe a few things that do. pretty much everything i know tells me that the people i know and the things i love are real--they exist! but as i'm coming to find out, the things i 'know' i don't really know. so should i really trust that instinct? i don't think i know how not to. it's easy to say yeah, forsake it, do the opposite of whatever it tells you, but how can i? that is the only thing i know how to do--trust in the beliefs, ideas, and concepts i've learned.
so what i can say is this: the only thing i know how to do right now is trust in the things i've learned, because with that...what is there? where does that leave me? afraid is where, and i don't know what to do with that. however, i think i owe it to my self to question the things i've learned since i can't remember ever putting them there in the first place...my beliefs, ideas, concepts... yeah, they're the things i know and love, but what if that love was a lie? would i still love them? i have to find out...i have to know for sure...
it keeps coming back
i find myself reluctant to make this journey, but somehow, it keeps popping up. i find myself reading about it, wondering, thinking...
sit down, shut up, and ask yourself what's true until you know.
that is my guide--my complete guide to spiritual enlightenment...which i'm not really even sure i ever wanted because...well, what the fuck is spiritual enlightenment? however, it does seem fairly obvious that i should be thinking for myself and this seems like a pretty good way of doing it. i mean, seriously, who the fuck cares what joe shmoe thinks? isn't what i think far more important? i'm not joe, am i? so yeah, thank you very much, i think i'll think for myself. here we go...
what is true?
where do i start? according to that dialogue between what's-his-face and what's-his-face (two people i have only an imagination of), it doesn't matter where you start. i have a question for myself (that's weird to think about)...
why do i want to think for myself? i don't want to live in the bullshit reality someone else made up. i want to be free. i want to find out what's out their on my own. how can i know for sure if someone else told me? even if 50 or 10,000,000 people told me, how could i know for sure? i could tell some joe shmoe that i make a million dollars a day painting landscapes, i've got a harem of go-go dancers that fulfill my sexual needs, and that he was going to die in exactly 666 days, but how would he know for sure? i could just as easily tell him i'm a poor chinese cook with a cocaine habit he can't afford and 36 parking tickets (which i also can't afford), but what's the fucking difference? he still can't know for sure. yeah, maybe he's more likely to believe one of those scenarios, but he still won't know for sure.
sit down, shut up, and ask yourself what's true until you know.
that is my guide--my complete guide to spiritual enlightenment...which i'm not really even sure i ever wanted because...well, what the fuck is spiritual enlightenment? however, it does seem fairly obvious that i should be thinking for myself and this seems like a pretty good way of doing it. i mean, seriously, who the fuck cares what joe shmoe thinks? isn't what i think far more important? i'm not joe, am i? so yeah, thank you very much, i think i'll think for myself. here we go...
what is true?
where do i start? according to that dialogue between what's-his-face and what's-his-face (two people i have only an imagination of), it doesn't matter where you start. i have a question for myself (that's weird to think about)...
why do i want to think for myself? i don't want to live in the bullshit reality someone else made up. i want to be free. i want to find out what's out their on my own. how can i know for sure if someone else told me? even if 50 or 10,000,000 people told me, how could i know for sure? i could tell some joe shmoe that i make a million dollars a day painting landscapes, i've got a harem of go-go dancers that fulfill my sexual needs, and that he was going to die in exactly 666 days, but how would he know for sure? i could just as easily tell him i'm a poor chinese cook with a cocaine habit he can't afford and 36 parking tickets (which i also can't afford), but what's the fucking difference? he still can't know for sure. yeah, maybe he's more likely to believe one of those scenarios, but he still won't know for sure.
holding a torch for truth
"it doesn't matter where you start. you could start by using ramana maharsha's query, 'who am i?' or 'what is me?' and then just work at it. just try to say something true and keep at it until you do. write and rewrite, make it cleaner and cut out the excess ego and follow it wherever it leads until you're done."
"this is about what you know for sure, what you are sure you know is true, and about what you are that is true..."
"if you ever have any questions or problems--no matter what the question or problem is--the answer is always exactly the same."
"sit down, shut up, and ask yourself what's true until you know."
what is me?
i am a creature of the universe. i am a being in a universe. i am a body. an organic life form. i am a bunch of cells and atoms. i am of the male species. i am a male. what can i prove?
what is me?
what makes me different than anyone else?
what is god? god is an idea created by man. does this make man god? how can man be anything other than man? is man just the creator of god? man is just man.
I WILL DIE SOMEDAY. i'm pretty sure about that. my grandpa died. am i my grandpa? no. then how do i know? i guess i don't, but it just seems so obvious...
"this is about what you know for sure, what you are sure you know is true, and about what you are that is true..."
"if you ever have any questions or problems--no matter what the question or problem is--the answer is always exactly the same."
"sit down, shut up, and ask yourself what's true until you know."
what is me?
i am a creature of the universe. i am a being in a universe. i am a body. an organic life form. i am a bunch of cells and atoms. i am of the male species. i am a male. what can i prove?
what is me?
what makes me different than anyone else?
what is god? god is an idea created by man. does this make man god? how can man be anything other than man? is man just the creator of god? man is just man.
I WILL DIE SOMEDAY. i'm pretty sure about that. my grandpa died. am i my grandpa? no. then how do i know? i guess i don't, but it just seems so obvious...
never left the womb
what would happen to a child if it never had to come out of the womb? never had to use its eyes or muscles... how would the mind develop? would it already be awake? what is the process of awakening? it seems like it's merely the deconstruction of all ideas, beliefs, concepts...pretty much everything the mind has absorbed over a lifetime. what if we couldn't think, we could only perceive? is that how the mind of a creature of lesser intelligence works?
salvador dali
'In order to acquire a growing and lasting respect in society, it is a good thing, if you possess great talent, to give, early in your youth, a very hard kick to the right shin of the society that you love. After that, be a snob.' --Salvador Dali
'Mistakes are almost always of a sacred nature. Never try to correct them. On the contrary: rationalize them, understand them thoroughly. After that, it will be possible for you to sublimate them.' --Salvador Dali
'It is good taste, and good taste alone, that possesses the power to sterilize and is always the first handicap to any creative functioning.' --Salvador Dali
'Take me, I am the drug; take me, I am hallucinogenic.' --Salvador Dali
'The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant.' --Salvador Dali
'The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.' --Salvador Dali
'There are some days when I think I'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.' --Salvador Dali
'The only difference between me and a madman is that I'm not mad.' --Salvador Dali
'There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.' --Salvador Dali
'The thermometer of success is merely the jealousy of the malcontents.' --Salvador Dali
'Those who do not want to imitate anything, produce nothing.' --Salvador Dali
'What is a television apparatus to man, who has only to shut his eyes to see the most inaccessible regions of the seen and the never seen, who has only to imagine in order to pierce through walls and cause all the planetary Baghdads of his dreams to rise from the dust.' --Salvador Dali
'Mistakes are almost always of a sacred nature. Never try to correct them. On the contrary: rationalize them, understand them thoroughly. After that, it will be possible for you to sublimate them.' --Salvador Dali
'It is good taste, and good taste alone, that possesses the power to sterilize and is always the first handicap to any creative functioning.' --Salvador Dali
'Take me, I am the drug; take me, I am hallucinogenic.' --Salvador Dali
'The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant.' --Salvador Dali
'The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.' --Salvador Dali
'There are some days when I think I'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.' --Salvador Dali
'The only difference between me and a madman is that I'm not mad.' --Salvador Dali
'There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.' --Salvador Dali
'The thermometer of success is merely the jealousy of the malcontents.' --Salvador Dali
'Those who do not want to imitate anything, produce nothing.' --Salvador Dali
'What is a television apparatus to man, who has only to shut his eyes to see the most inaccessible regions of the seen and the never seen, who has only to imagine in order to pierce through walls and cause all the planetary Baghdads of his dreams to rise from the dust.' --Salvador Dali
one situation i've always found myself to feel awkward in is clogging the toilet at someone else's house. i'm not sure what it is, but there's something embarassing about the whole thing. one minute you're expelling excretory matter from your bowels and the next...you're wrestling with the toilet, making weird slurpy sounds.
habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time. --mark twain
habit is habit and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed downstairs a step at a time. --mark twain
what is true?
i think part of this is learning how to actually turn your head and look at yourself--it's hard! it's hard to look straight at yourself, especially with murder in your eyes. start with a statement that is obvious, for example...
i love my parents.
is that true? do i honestly believe that? of course i do, because i'm afraid of whatever the opposite is. i do not love my parents. there is fear in that statement.
examine the foundation...
everyone dies someday.
this is a statement i am writing down that i either know or think is true. examine the foundation of the statement...
it presupposes that everyone exists. it presupposes that time exists. does time exist? what are the methods we use to verify the existence of something? sensory experience of a thing? most of the time we don't know something exists, we simply believe it does based on what everyone else said.
what is it to die? to become non-responsive? are we alive? when you die, what is dying? what am i? am i? take away my perception/experience of reality and my ability to communicate--do i still exist?
what is reality? i have no idea what reality is. i don't even know if i have the capacity to care what reality is. as far as i'm concerned it's just another arbitrary, made-up word. i don't think i could possibly care to wonder any more than that. back to the original statement...
everyone dies someday.
do i think that this statement is true? honestly, on an instinctual level, i suppose i believe this is true; i believe that i am going to die someday. why? it is a societal belief that i have learned and integrated into my self. it seems so obvious, i don't know how i can possibly ever rid myself of it. how can i know for sure that one day i am going to die? i can't, i just can't. the only way to prove it would be to try and kill myself.
i think the point is, i can't know, so why think about it? if i die, i still won't be proving anything to my self; there will be no self to prove anything to. i can logically sit here and say that there is no way i can know for sure whether i am going to die one day or not, but for some reason, i still believe that i will...
everyone dies someday.
i'm at a loss at this point; this statement is confusing and i don't know what to think of it.
so in my other post, i stated that my one dream was to have a finished cd of my recordings...orsomethinglikethat. well, i've realized that i've actually got two dreams: two things that would bring me unending amounts of happiness. the second one, is to smoke pot with all my mormon friends. because if they were cool with that, we would have a brand new relationship. fresh and chill.
i wish tyler would just think for himself a little bit, stop buying into what other people are selling. i wish he would abandon his mission, on his way home tomorrow, because he figured out how unprovable the existence of god is and therefore how not worth thinking about god is. what is belief? it's putting faith in something you can't prove. and why would anyone do that? because they are afraid; they are afraid to face reality. god serves the purpose of filling the idea of, 'what happens after death'? the biggest thing people are afraid of is no-self, hence, god.
on a more interesting note, what if they made cheese out of mother's milk? i wonder what that would taste like. one thing's for god damn sure: goat cheese...is fucking nasty.
i wish tyler would just think for himself a little bit, stop buying into what other people are selling. i wish he would abandon his mission, on his way home tomorrow, because he figured out how unprovable the existence of god is and therefore how not worth thinking about god is. what is belief? it's putting faith in something you can't prove. and why would anyone do that? because they are afraid; they are afraid to face reality. god serves the purpose of filling the idea of, 'what happens after death'? the biggest thing people are afraid of is no-self, hence, god.
on a more interesting note, what if they made cheese out of mother's milk? i wonder what that would taste like. one thing's for god damn sure: goat cheese...is fucking nasty.
my one dream is to have a cd of my recordings, but.. it's just too much work. haha, i'm too lazy to work toward something that would make me happy. i'm too...maybe lazy is the wrong word. maybe i'm too fucking tired to play this game. i don't wanna dress up anymore, or pretend. i want to not want. anything. ever.
actually, that's probably a lie to myself. i want the same thing any creature with neurotransmitters and neurons wants - to feel good. to make up a world inside my head with pleasure and reward systems that i can manipulate in order to feel good. dopamine, baby; serotonin.
it's funny, the idea that every human thinks there is something more to them; something permanent and stable - I. I is so ambiguous; volatile. take away all of the feel-good chemicals from a person and I is a completely different thing. unstable, non-permanent.
actually, that's probably a lie to myself. i want the same thing any creature with neurotransmitters and neurons wants - to feel good. to make up a world inside my head with pleasure and reward systems that i can manipulate in order to feel good. dopamine, baby; serotonin.
it's funny, the idea that every human thinks there is something more to them; something permanent and stable - I. I is so ambiguous; volatile. take away all of the feel-good chemicals from a person and I is a completely different thing. unstable, non-permanent.
ok, so I've figured out I.... that's a fucking paradox... I have to get used to the idea that I am a lie... me, lie. and since I am I, and I is killing itself... wow, i just realized how brutally painful this is going to be.
ok, so I is a bunch of beliefs, opinions, ideas. but is it anything else (this is what they meant when they said self-awareness; this is more like self-dissection)? what about emotion? what is emotion? is emotion?
off-topic but not really off-topic - actually, probably perfectly on-topic - what does it mean to exist? i keep asking these 'to be' questions (i.e. is emotion?) and how can i know if emotion is? is emotion? maybe i have to know what it is, first. of course... that assumes that it is already. hmm. is it? how can i know? emotions are chemicals that flow through the body. flow? what does it mean to exist? is to be to have choice? because if that's the case and emotions are, then they have choice. is that existence? if they do exist and they do have choice, then i obviously can't choose for them. doesn't that make them a separate physical entity?
what about god? what is god? is god, first of all? is he a being that sits around and judges other beings and condemns them? god created everyone equal. did god create himself? because if he did, then he's the only one, and in that case, he didn't create everyone equal. so someone else must have created god... that, or the more likely case - in which i still don't know - god doesn't exist. how can i prove that god exists?
god loves everyone equally. i'm not sure if this is relevant, because i haven't proven that he exists, but maybe this will help. if god did create everyone, he obviously didn't create everyone equally, so does god therefore love everyone equally? what is love? is love? does love exist? i don't know.
there's so little that i can actually prove... whoa... right there...
there's so little that I can actually prove... why? jesus, because I isn't about truth, I is just a dreamworld of lies. I can't prove anything, that's why I must die! to truly see, I must die. fuck! it makes sense!
for so long, I would say (it's so weird thinking of I in the third- and first-person at the same time) "there is no truth." and I was right - there is NO truth within the world of I.
so now the path shines clearly, the next step can always be seen, for it is always: kill I.
ok, so I is a bunch of beliefs, opinions, ideas. but is it anything else (this is what they meant when they said self-awareness; this is more like self-dissection)? what about emotion? what is emotion? is emotion?
off-topic but not really off-topic - actually, probably perfectly on-topic - what does it mean to exist? i keep asking these 'to be' questions (i.e. is emotion?) and how can i know if emotion is? is emotion? maybe i have to know what it is, first. of course... that assumes that it is already. hmm. is it? how can i know? emotions are chemicals that flow through the body. flow? what does it mean to exist? is to be to have choice? because if that's the case and emotions are, then they have choice. is that existence? if they do exist and they do have choice, then i obviously can't choose for them. doesn't that make them a separate physical entity?
what about god? what is god? is god, first of all? is he a being that sits around and judges other beings and condemns them? god created everyone equal. did god create himself? because if he did, then he's the only one, and in that case, he didn't create everyone equal. so someone else must have created god... that, or the more likely case - in which i still don't know - god doesn't exist. how can i prove that god exists?
god loves everyone equally. i'm not sure if this is relevant, because i haven't proven that he exists, but maybe this will help. if god did create everyone, he obviously didn't create everyone equally, so does god therefore love everyone equally? what is love? is love? does love exist? i don't know.
there's so little that i can actually prove... whoa... right there...
there's so little that I can actually prove... why? jesus, because I isn't about truth, I is just a dreamworld of lies. I can't prove anything, that's why I must die! to truly see, I must die. fuck! it makes sense!
for so long, I would say (it's so weird thinking of I in the third- and first-person at the same time) "there is no truth." and I was right - there is NO truth within the world of I.
so now the path shines clearly, the next step can always be seen, for it is always: kill I.
do i exist? first i must ask the question, who am i? i am a collection of ideas, opinions, beliefs, perceptions... where did they come from? better yet, why am i these things? am i anything more than these things? what if i didn't have these... ideas, opinions, beliefs, and perceptions... what would i be?
holy shit. i wouldn't be. I wouldn't be. wow. speechless.
who am i? if that's all that I is, what's beyond I? what's beneath the surface? anything? I can't even comprehend that. so what happens... if I get rid of I? better said: what if I commits suicide?
what if... anything?
ok, so obviously I am I. there is no existence of the self beyond that. so my self is this I, this thing, this collection of beliefs, opinions, whatever. did I choose them? what does it even matter? who cares what I did, I doesn't know anything. how can I be trusted? the only thing to do is kill I. there's nothing beyond that now.
holy shit. i wouldn't be. I wouldn't be. wow. speechless.
who am i? if that's all that I is, what's beyond I? what's beneath the surface? anything? I can't even comprehend that. so what happens... if I get rid of I? better said: what if I commits suicide?
what if... anything?
ok, so obviously I am I. there is no existence of the self beyond that. so my self is this I, this thing, this collection of beliefs, opinions, whatever. did I choose them? what does it even matter? who cares what I did, I doesn't know anything. how can I be trusted? the only thing to do is kill I. there's nothing beyond that now.
why doesn't possession exist? because there's no place for it to exist - possession is imaginary.
i don't know what truth is. as a matter of fact, i don't have the slightest fucking idea what truth is. i don't even know what i think truth is. maybe i think truth is just the things that i know. for example, i know that i hate advertising - it's total bullshit. it's simply the process of trying to influence other people to give you their money. it is someone else trying to get you to fund their pleasure. i guess in a way that makes me hate conventional spiritual teachings as well. guys like j. krishnamurti who says he holds no possessions, yet he sits on a multi-million dollar a year empire as president. what a load of shit! what a fucking load of crock! i guess it's the same thing that humans have been doing to each other since...well, since the existence of humans.
i don't even care about my parents anymore. they are stupid. they are unintelligent beings who still buy into the whole, 'there's room at the top,' prison. there is no top, forget about it, it doesn't exist. don't waste your life chasing your own tail.
i've been under the impression that truth doesn't exist for a while now. if truth doesn't exist, then what am i writing? i think the realization that i've come to is that truth doesn't exist within the world of the false self. there's too many inconsistencies. so maybe the truth does exist, but if it does, i haven't tasted it savory flavor yet.
so why am i doing this? why am i preparing to go through this whole process of self-digestion? because i can't not. now that it's been made obvious to me, how can i live in a world of lies and ignorance? nothing makes sense anymore, and i see why now. ignorance isn't bliss; ignorance is torture. the truth is, i'm stuck here until i get off my ass and crawl out. until i wage war on everything i know and believe. until i turn my life into a rocky, bloody, putrid, blackened battleground. i will sink, and then sink some more.
i don't know what truth is. as a matter of fact, i don't have the slightest fucking idea what truth is. i don't even know what i think truth is. maybe i think truth is just the things that i know. for example, i know that i hate advertising - it's total bullshit. it's simply the process of trying to influence other people to give you their money. it is someone else trying to get you to fund their pleasure. i guess in a way that makes me hate conventional spiritual teachings as well. guys like j. krishnamurti who says he holds no possessions, yet he sits on a multi-million dollar a year empire as president. what a load of shit! what a fucking load of crock! i guess it's the same thing that humans have been doing to each other since...well, since the existence of humans.
i don't even care about my parents anymore. they are stupid. they are unintelligent beings who still buy into the whole, 'there's room at the top,' prison. there is no top, forget about it, it doesn't exist. don't waste your life chasing your own tail.
i've been under the impression that truth doesn't exist for a while now. if truth doesn't exist, then what am i writing? i think the realization that i've come to is that truth doesn't exist within the world of the false self. there's too many inconsistencies. so maybe the truth does exist, but if it does, i haven't tasted it savory flavor yet.
so why am i doing this? why am i preparing to go through this whole process of self-digestion? because i can't not. now that it's been made obvious to me, how can i live in a world of lies and ignorance? nothing makes sense anymore, and i see why now. ignorance isn't bliss; ignorance is torture. the truth is, i'm stuck here until i get off my ass and crawl out. until i wage war on everything i know and believe. until i turn my life into a rocky, bloody, putrid, blackened battleground. i will sink, and then sink some more.
if i push that lamp hard enough, it will fall over. who am i? am i a name? i am just a little creature wandering around on a planet with not much idea of what i'm doing - like all the other creatures - but with a little more self-righteousness than most of them. that may or may not be what has led me here.
i wear a coat because i am cold. what is cold? it's a sensation; the lack of heat. cold - or the lack of heat - has a lot of control over my level of comfort. comfort? feeling good. feeling? good? good is simply something that i will naturally move towards, nothing more. why? evolution, i guess; something to do with biology.
i feel - what is that? i? feel? i am just a block of matter colliding with other matter - nothing more, nothing less. then how can i feel? what is feeling, anyway? it's a part of the dreamworld, perhaps. i don't know. feeling is...futile! hah! why do i feel things? things! so feeling involves me (whatever that is) and things. you can usually predict how a human will act based on how it is feeling.
so i'm going to feed myself into the purifying digestive fires piece by piece. it's going to be hard and i'm going to feel lots of 'things.' but when i'm done, i will be free. free from what? free of what? ignorance. lies. i will detach from the dreamworld, where i have to do things and i need to do things; i will wake up. i'll be done with it. i will wake the fuck up. unlike all these other poor bastards who think they've already grown up. These poor children that consider themselves adults. i'm one, too.
i guess the next question is or may as well be - why am i here? where is here? the point at which my body resides in the physical universe? i - my ego - am not really here. actually, maybe i am because my physical actions right now are definitely ego-based.
why don't i just kill myself and be done with the whole damned thing? of course, why not just live and see what happens? because i don't care; it won't matter after i'm dead! but i'm not dead now, so maybe i do care. what does care mean? to form attachment? what is attachment? it's a bonding between the ego and another thing. another false thing, of course. and since i and my ego are one and the same, i am forming the bonds. why? i guess i should be detaching from everything in this dream state. the whole point of this is to systematically kill my ego - my self. so...i need to look at the things i realize as true and recognize them as false. FALSE, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
write the truth. this table is black and has four legs. so it could be said that this black table possesses four legs. but how is that possible? how can anything posses anything else? we're all just moving around in a big cage. the only possession that anyone or anything has over anyone or anything else is that which is allowed them by the person or thing being possessed and by all other persons or things. therefore, possession does not exist.
i wear a coat because i am cold. what is cold? it's a sensation; the lack of heat. cold - or the lack of heat - has a lot of control over my level of comfort. comfort? feeling good. feeling? good? good is simply something that i will naturally move towards, nothing more. why? evolution, i guess; something to do with biology.
i feel - what is that? i? feel? i am just a block of matter colliding with other matter - nothing more, nothing less. then how can i feel? what is feeling, anyway? it's a part of the dreamworld, perhaps. i don't know. feeling is...futile! hah! why do i feel things? things! so feeling involves me (whatever that is) and things. you can usually predict how a human will act based on how it is feeling.
so i'm going to feed myself into the purifying digestive fires piece by piece. it's going to be hard and i'm going to feel lots of 'things.' but when i'm done, i will be free. free from what? free of what? ignorance. lies. i will detach from the dreamworld, where i have to do things and i need to do things; i will wake up. i'll be done with it. i will wake the fuck up. unlike all these other poor bastards who think they've already grown up. These poor children that consider themselves adults. i'm one, too.
i guess the next question is or may as well be - why am i here? where is here? the point at which my body resides in the physical universe? i - my ego - am not really here. actually, maybe i am because my physical actions right now are definitely ego-based.
why don't i just kill myself and be done with the whole damned thing? of course, why not just live and see what happens? because i don't care; it won't matter after i'm dead! but i'm not dead now, so maybe i do care. what does care mean? to form attachment? what is attachment? it's a bonding between the ego and another thing. another false thing, of course. and since i and my ego are one and the same, i am forming the bonds. why? i guess i should be detaching from everything in this dream state. the whole point of this is to systematically kill my ego - my self. so...i need to look at the things i realize as true and recognize them as false. FALSE, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
write the truth. this table is black and has four legs. so it could be said that this black table possesses four legs. but how is that possible? how can anything posses anything else? we're all just moving around in a big cage. the only possession that anyone or anything has over anyone or anything else is that which is allowed them by the person or thing being possessed and by all other persons or things. therefore, possession does not exist.
nothing matters. the only scope into which anything can logically and perfectly fit into is a perspective of oblivion.
ok, so i'm here and i don't know what to write. "sit down, shut up, and ask yourself what's true until you know." what's true? nothing. truth doesn't exist. is that a truth? that truth doesn't exist? because if that ('nothing') is true, then truth does exist. but is there any existing truth other than that one? i think that that might be true: the only thing that's true is nothing.
what the fuck do i write now?
the only thing that is true is that nothing - nothing - matters, at all...
i'm afraid of sooo many things i'm surprised i can even walk around a corner without jumping. and yet, somehow, i've covered it up in my mind so well that i'm barely even aware of it. even this, spiritual autolysis, seems like just another way of running away. suicide - an escape; spiritual autolysis - an escape; drugs - an escape; the military - an escape. if i even try to think about the things i'm afraid of, my mind instantly runs away, blocks it out. as soon as i try to deal with anything and i feel even a tinge of sadness for myself, my mind finds an escape. that is some kind of determination, though - the drive to find an escape. i am a being of complete and submersive comfort. i don't think about things that make me uncomfortable and i don't do things that make me uncomfortable.
what is spiritual autolysis? is it just an escape? it's crazy, because even though i have no idea what it is, it feels like the only true path.
it's weird, because, i'm realizing, the only things that i really want have to do with escapism. get some money, buy a house, grow psychoactive plants in the basement...escape. go to sleep and dream forever...escape. i'm like an escape artist - i'm a master at escaping from myself. except that i'm not. sometimes i can't escape, and it tears me to shreds. until i gotosleepwakeupfeelbetter.
i don't know if any of this is true, i'm only trying to write something...this is kind of like wrestling with my own mind, because i can't tell what i know and what i don't know. it's like impossible for me to be honest with myself.
what do i want? i have no idea. what is it to want something? i guess i should have asked this question: what do i ultimately want out of life? i don't know...i would say that i don't care about life that much, but i'm not sure that that's the truth. i have no idea what the truth is. i'm having a hard time differentiating between truth and non-truth right now.
either way, now i have a path to follow.
ok, so i'm here and i don't know what to write. "sit down, shut up, and ask yourself what's true until you know." what's true? nothing. truth doesn't exist. is that a truth? that truth doesn't exist? because if that ('nothing') is true, then truth does exist. but is there any existing truth other than that one? i think that that might be true: the only thing that's true is nothing.
what the fuck do i write now?
the only thing that is true is that nothing - nothing - matters, at all...
i'm afraid of sooo many things i'm surprised i can even walk around a corner without jumping. and yet, somehow, i've covered it up in my mind so well that i'm barely even aware of it. even this, spiritual autolysis, seems like just another way of running away. suicide - an escape; spiritual autolysis - an escape; drugs - an escape; the military - an escape. if i even try to think about the things i'm afraid of, my mind instantly runs away, blocks it out. as soon as i try to deal with anything and i feel even a tinge of sadness for myself, my mind finds an escape. that is some kind of determination, though - the drive to find an escape. i am a being of complete and submersive comfort. i don't think about things that make me uncomfortable and i don't do things that make me uncomfortable.
what is spiritual autolysis? is it just an escape? it's crazy, because even though i have no idea what it is, it feels like the only true path.
it's weird, because, i'm realizing, the only things that i really want have to do with escapism. get some money, buy a house, grow psychoactive plants in the basement...escape. go to sleep and dream forever...escape. i'm like an escape artist - i'm a master at escaping from myself. except that i'm not. sometimes i can't escape, and it tears me to shreds. until i gotosleepwakeupfeelbetter.
i don't know if any of this is true, i'm only trying to write something...this is kind of like wrestling with my own mind, because i can't tell what i know and what i don't know. it's like impossible for me to be honest with myself.
what do i want? i have no idea. what is it to want something? i guess i should have asked this question: what do i ultimately want out of life? i don't know...i would say that i don't care about life that much, but i'm not sure that that's the truth. i have no idea what the truth is. i'm having a hard time differentiating between truth and non-truth right now.
either way, now i have a path to follow.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
william seward burroughs
“Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.”
“How I hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity.”
"In my writing I am acting as a map maker, an explorer of psychic areas...a cosmonaut of inner space, and I see no point in exploring areas that have already been thoroughly surveyed."
“How I hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity.”
"In my writing I am acting as a map maker, an explorer of psychic areas...a cosmonaut of inner space, and I see no point in exploring areas that have already been thoroughly surveyed."
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
people and their fantastic ideas
some guy left this comment on this article i was reading. it's absolutely brilliant...
"I actually had this idea to buy a big chunk of land and a plane, let people who want to commit suicide get on board, give each one of them a parachute and let em jump. If they don't open it it's free, and all of their belongings go to their families. If they decide to pull the lever they owe me 5% of whatever is on their bank-account. If I could find a legal way to go through with this, I'd soon be rich and saved many lives."
-[http://www.cracked.com/article_15658_ten-minute-suicide-guide.html]
"I actually had this idea to buy a big chunk of land and a plane, let people who want to commit suicide get on board, give each one of them a parachute and let em jump. If they don't open it it's free, and all of their belongings go to their families. If they decide to pull the lever they owe me 5% of whatever is on their bank-account. If I could find a legal way to go through with this, I'd soon be rich and saved many lives."
-[http://www.cracked.com/article_15658_ten-minute-suicide-guide.html]
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