these are strange days—quiet, uncertain, waiting for the words to come. a writer dismantled. he retires after all the years of star treatment. he was lucky to fall in. an old lady was asked if she’s enjoying signing all the autographs. she’s liked it so much she reached a point where she started signing other people’s names. I wake up these mornings and take in a new world and spread new ink. new world says, “kind of you to see me as new… really, I’m all about constant change to which you must adjust or be thrown clear.”
but I’m experiencing new things, at least as a man in his thirties. I surprise myself, how far I’ve come. the future is unwritten, scary, uncertain, perhaps brittle. my present is pattered with meditation and readings of the psychedelic.
I can’t preach Scientism cause I don’t believe it. I can’t preach Buddhism cause I can’t understand it. The only thing I can preach is the felt presence of immediate experience which for me came through the psychedelics, which are not drugs but plants. It’s a perversion of language to try to derail this thing into talk of drugs. There are spirits in the natural world that come to us in this way and so far as I can tell this is the only way that they come to us that is rapid enough for it to have an impact upon us as a global population.
–Terence McKenna
to break away and be by one’s self is something that can truly be appreciated and comprehended when older, more mature, and weathered by various heartbreaks and setbacks. enter the thought lab. like you, right? ah, new world cutting in. the landscape. burned up city. ruination.
thought there’d
be a revolution
of meaning here
but that word
revolution got
itself all worn
out by advertising firms
you are one step
closer to being
back alone
all by yourself
again
this I
realize
feeling sorry
sorry for yourself?
feeling the
weight of things
the comedian tries to
make a go of
processing
catastrophic events
the joke
slips
out of
place
been dealt a bad hand?
maybe
maybe so
born and raised in
robot factories
coveted position
in the robot factory
distractions
in the robot factory
rejection
in the robot factory
all out of
robot oil
fired, swept under
carpet
who? who?
glad to be
rid of…
so n’ so
who?
forgot
I forget
oh I forget
forget it now
what’s it matter?
gone
GonegOneGoneG
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