Do the Existential Twist
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It is of my most humble (and consequently utterly insignificant) opinion that we’ve crossed a border that will eventually be our undoing. I’m speaking, of course, of that border which delineates traditional reality from the reality in which is encapsulated every thought, dream, nightmare, fantasy and cognizant artificial experience.
The goal I wish to accomplish within the sentences and between the words of this essay is to delve into the void of altered consciousness, conscious alterations and transcendental existentialism. Fortunately, it should be a completely and inexorably positive experience. My most malicious medium of tediousness are the false starts which I constantly experience. I’m always of the opinion that serious shit is about to go down, and yet when I close my eyes and allow the world to vibrate and flow within and throughout me in a holistic manner, I’m disappointed to the level at which I’ve failed to merge with the fabric of the universe itself.
Forgive me if this meditation has delved into a diatribe pertaining to the excesses of life as we do and conversely do no not know it. You see, it should be noted that while I expound upon the nature of fateful/unobtrusive affirmative passivity, I’m bringing to you live what goes on in the mental construct of my cranium, consciousness, or for the scientific community, “noggin.”
Where to begin? First, a point of order: this is not meant to be the simple meandering and lackluster, albeit tremulous to the point of being downright ambiguous diatribe. I do not wish for the human race to be suckling at the teat of phototropic luminescence. Those substances that might bring better insight for one person or more on the human condition, be it peyote amongst those originators of life and existence on the North American continent, random psychedelic pills under the sons of Kesey, Kerouac and Ginsberg, or acid with those damn Hunter S. Thompson kids. I only seek to be with myself as I journey across this great world that is actually put down straight on a wrinkle on my own furry, squishy, plural cerebellum.
Well, now. We’ve certainly got a theoretical essay going here. I’d alert the press, but they are (in my humble opinion, or IMHO as the current teenagers of our day would term it) evolved into that which possess no spine, no vertebrae and no coccyx. In essence, they are slugs: they slime their bosomy ways up and about rainy garden leaves, pushing purulent acidic goops and gabs on petals. They are also susceptible to the influence of good old NaCl, sodium chloride, or salt. Myself, I am a great believer in the power of salt. Parch me and hydrate me, parch me and hydrate me. Life is but a sequence of desires and fulfilling desires. I’m horny, I orgasm. I’m horny, I orgasm. I hunger, I eat. I hunger, I eat. I’m bored, I fill my time. I’m bored, I fill my time. I have excess energy, I run. I have excess energy, I run. I have unbridled joy for the world, I inhale, absorb and become life itself. I have unbridled joy for the world, I inhale, absorb and become life itself. I live, I die. I live, I die. The tragicomedy that is a whirling dance of planetary life. I will.
.
It is of my most humble (and consequently utterly insignificant) opinion that we’ve crossed a border that will eventually be our undoing. I’m speaking, of course, of that border which delineates traditional reality from the reality in which is encapsulated every thought, dream, nightmare, fantasy and cognizant artificial experience.
The goal I wish to accomplish within the sentences and between the words of this essay is to delve into the void of altered consciousness, conscious alterations and transcendental existentialism. Fortunately, it should be a completely and inexorably positive experience. My most malicious medium of tediousness are the false starts which I constantly experience. I’m always of the opinion that serious shit is about to go down, and yet when I close my eyes and allow the world to vibrate and flow within and throughout me in a holistic manner, I’m disappointed to the level at which I’ve failed to merge with the fabric of the universe itself.
Forgive me if this meditation has delved into a diatribe pertaining to the excesses of life as we do and conversely do no not know it. You see, it should be noted that while I expound upon the nature of fateful/unobtrusive affirmative passivity, I’m bringing to you live what goes on in the mental construct of my cranium, consciousness, or for the scientific community, “noggin.”
Where to begin? First, a point of order: this is not meant to be the simple meandering and lackluster, albeit tremulous to the point of being downright ambiguous diatribe. I do not wish for the human race to be suckling at the teat of phototropic luminescence. Those substances that might bring better insight for one person or more on the human condition, be it peyote amongst those originators of life and existence on the North American continent, random psychedelic pills under the sons of Kesey, Kerouac and Ginsberg, or acid with those damn Hunter S. Thompson kids. I only seek to be with myself as I journey across this great world that is actually put down straight on a wrinkle on my own furry, squishy, plural cerebellum.
Well, now. We’ve certainly got a theoretical essay going here. I’d alert the press, but they are (in my humble opinion, or IMHO as the current teenagers of our day would term it) evolved into that which possess no spine, no vertebrae and no coccyx. In essence, they are slugs: they slime their bosomy ways up and about rainy garden leaves, pushing purulent acidic goops and gabs on petals. They are also susceptible to the influence of good old NaCl, sodium chloride, or salt. Myself, I am a great believer in the power of salt. Parch me and hydrate me, parch me and hydrate me. Life is but a sequence of desires and fulfilling desires. I’m horny, I orgasm. I’m horny, I orgasm. I hunger, I eat. I hunger, I eat. I’m bored, I fill my time. I’m bored, I fill my time. I have excess energy, I run. I have excess energy, I run. I have unbridled joy for the world, I inhale, absorb and become life itself. I have unbridled joy for the world, I inhale, absorb and become life itself. I live, I die. I live, I die. The tragicomedy that is a whirling dance of planetary life. I will.
.