Fear and Loathing with Petrels
Only one more day to survive... this past week or so I have danced in the sometimes dangerous territory of sleep deprivation... SOOO much work and commitments. But I love what I do. But it's sometimes nice... I go back, mildly, to that beautiful half reality when you don't really sleep. You are alert and your heart is pounding, yet your body writhes in its desperate wish for respite. I had a very magical time last weekend watching fear and loathing in las vegas for the first time and then going for a dark walk into the vast woods of Oglethorpe. Looked like I was on Dagobah. Absolutely surreal, I carried the call to embrace my animal side. There are definetly primal needs in the human race, many of which are either fulfilled with a walk in the woods or in the bed of whore. I decided that VD had no place in my master plan.
"There he goes -- one of God's own prototypes -- a high powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die."
and then, a memory comes to mind:
"It was a season of madness, but what's new? The music blared in repetition on the headphones... play count was at 459. The flutes danced seductively, enticing the mind. A chant in the track that meant simultaneously everything and nothing, very dichotomously Dickens. It was chanting the complete abandonment of reason and consequence, it was chanting a rejection of conventional thought, it was a chant that could not be denied. And I was flirting with the beauty of innocence, forgetting that I had already eaten from the tree of good and evil."
No point in this entry, just thoughts. Today I had some fantastic conversations with a Moslim and an agnostic-pagan on the nature of God and the divine and ultimate realities. Gotta love college. I never hope to lose my ability to go on fantastic thought journeys with others.
"There he goes -- one of God's own prototypes -- a high powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die."
and then, a memory comes to mind:
"It was a season of madness, but what's new? The music blared in repetition on the headphones... play count was at 459. The flutes danced seductively, enticing the mind. A chant in the track that meant simultaneously everything and nothing, very dichotomously Dickens. It was chanting the complete abandonment of reason and consequence, it was chanting a rejection of conventional thought, it was a chant that could not be denied. And I was flirting with the beauty of innocence, forgetting that I had already eaten from the tree of good and evil."
No point in this entry, just thoughts. Today I had some fantastic conversations with a Moslim and an agnostic-pagan on the nature of God and the divine and ultimate realities. Gotta love college. I never hope to lose my ability to go on fantastic thought journeys with others.