…reads the headstone marking Charles Bukowski’s grave.
If you know this, huzzah, there — I may approve of your taste in literature. If you know what it means, or can figure it given the fact (this one) it’s not the last bile from all Buk’s drunken puking… Let’s marry sometime.
If you have to make a conscious effort — if the enterprise is what you would call “effort” — you don’t have it. As in what it takes. As in passion. Compulsion. Fixation.
And so it goes… My feeling about enlightenment and the obligation to teach others. Nevermind that my meditation borrows enough from CBT to make bp-control likely possible for most. But not to boast, but to be truthful, not even a person with fibromyalgia pain as all-consuming as mine was would have the will to do what it takes to go painless.
Let us not forget that I exacerbated everything about my Asps, lost the ability to forget anything, retroactive to age 5, am aware of my subconscious and so lost internal monologue and have five disparate thoughts meandering at all times, answer yes/no questions with a discourse beginning in prehistory, have discussions that could come with bibliographies…
…But yes world, I EFFING WIN MOTHERFUCKERS! I do not feel pain. I’m chewing my tongue like gum right now, having turned it down a bit too low, because of the sensory deprivation.
I used to sweat like my scalp was a god damned showerhead. Not an exaggeration mid-July waiting on the Metro in DC. Now I have anhydrosis.
I do not feel hot nor cold. …This allows me to always wear what I want and rock the buildings of this town down to bricks fool.
Oh yeah: And people find it notable that I speak clearly, but not at all loudly. This is because I speak at a level that seems reasonable. Normals conversing… truly it seems you fuckers are shouting in one another’s faces. Even though what you’re conveying is usually crass but at best obvious, no at best is something you think is whispered and is something sincere. The things you make confesions of… Bagatelles…
OK. So, if you’re not on your way to The Truth followed by The Peace of it, you will not know these things. Chances are you can’t take step one and meditate obsessively on death because you can’t think of it because you don’t think about it because you’re a coward and you’re weak and maybe even weak enough to lay money with Pascal and go in for some kinda god — kinda like the Chrsitian one (Jesus was a very awesome man, so sorry, that means you get the mean one, YHWH, I AM THAT IS, what have you) but is cool with you though you think of yourself as imperfect, as constantly in error, as faulty, etc, which is a pantload and not recommended by a guy who got someone else his psych PhD (abnormal psychology, specifically a Recipe for a Multiple Murderer: Genetics, Trauma, Psychopathy) but made it good enough it could not be defended by him because he was a cheater and I didn’t mean to but knew I was and when done he could not get the thing inside his skull.
I got the money, of course. Which he’d offered at the start of the thing. It would not have occurred to me…
OK, also I confess and mine are worth hearing that I’m rather sure Asps and savantism and supersmartypantses make enlightenment easier to attain.
…In that it was a thing I needed to attain without knowing I was attaining anything. One day one realizes one is filled with brilliant white light… One day nothing changes and you understand it all as a unit and it is what it is and lions lie with lambs (an awkward analogy in which lamb should go and gazelle take over)…
Also, my thing is more than Peace. I hate to say it, but fuck it, all truths bout me nowadays seem so motherfucking vainglorious (and chasing after wind)… Were humanity ready, I’m one of the few who knows Nietsche well enough to know what the ubermensche is and does and could fit the bill.
…In maybe 20 years popular culture will realize the dithering evil it wantonly went about since the twilight of the gods and be as mature as a 16-year-old me, unable to retreat to deism, and so not like me at any age prone to nihilism (which Nietsche was not because it is the thing he identified as eating away at human’s little minds and allowing things like Americans allowing the US to become a place true fucking Americans would fight with the only right it has left in the Bill, the Second, and do so with the amendment for the second time ever according to its clear purpose.
But oh well.
You will keep pain, ennui, anger, incomprehension, ignorance, hate, etc etc etc.
I’ll keep burning Old Town nights bright as day.
Oh — it seems I will live out my life appearing to be in my 20s.
Think of me next time you stub the hell out of your toe. Think of me getting my lower leg slammed by car door and how it caused me to erupt in laughter. And limp a few days, sure, but only because it wouldn’t move properly.
Silencio! No hay bandio!
in accord, alienandroid enterprises
Silence! There is no band!