Vay Zha Due
I took a look at the version for the winamp on this puter and got a burst of memories that I had no chronological placement. I think it was a dream and it had a constance to it; a feeling of longevity and lastingness. I felt like I was in an early chapter of a very long book. At present I am feeling very necessary, even though I am quite seanonally depressed.
The headaches started the last few days. I hope they don't get any worse. I have plenty of bright lights, but I keep forgetting to turn them on before it gets dark. The depression is so gradual and subtle at first that I might be in a deep head-fuck before I have a chance to pull myself out. I am a tropical creature.
Underneath this front of a personality is a works of untold mind riches. How do I "guess" how much we are going to spend at the store when we don't even know what all we are going to buy? {I was just a few pennies off and I think that is because I rounded to the nearest dollar.
I will listen to my Enigma and Santana and Pearl Jam. I will Listen; even to the things I cannot hear. Sidestep my opinions and interpretations. I will refrain from further explainations. This seems to be my duty and mine alone.
A paradox envelopes me as I progress. If I am to "figure it all out" I can't have that untention in mind. I have to be completely outside of any goal. Open. Listening. Aware without the awareness obscuring my senses. I can't even consider my senses as valid. There must be a self-less thought. Yet this is part of the paradox. I can't rely on this assumption. I may or may not be aware. I will start from the beginning, but I can't assume that I have found the beginning when I do. I must always be uncertain.
I start to remember a point of selfawareness before my inscription, which is most certainly before my conception. I am finding my Artex. There is a tendril. This is not me. I peek above the water's surface and I am blinded of myself by my "self".
The headaches started the last few days. I hope they don't get any worse. I have plenty of bright lights, but I keep forgetting to turn them on before it gets dark. The depression is so gradual and subtle at first that I might be in a deep head-fuck before I have a chance to pull myself out. I am a tropical creature.
Underneath this front of a personality is a works of untold mind riches. How do I "guess" how much we are going to spend at the store when we don't even know what all we are going to buy? {I was just a few pennies off and I think that is because I rounded to the nearest dollar.
I will listen to my Enigma and Santana and Pearl Jam. I will Listen; even to the things I cannot hear. Sidestep my opinions and interpretations. I will refrain from further explainations. This seems to be my duty and mine alone.
A paradox envelopes me as I progress. If I am to "figure it all out" I can't have that untention in mind. I have to be completely outside of any goal. Open. Listening. Aware without the awareness obscuring my senses. I can't even consider my senses as valid. There must be a self-less thought. Yet this is part of the paradox. I can't rely on this assumption. I may or may not be aware. I will start from the beginning, but I can't assume that I have found the beginning when I do. I must always be uncertain.
I start to remember a point of selfawareness before my inscription, which is most certainly before my conception. I am finding my Artex. There is a tendril. This is not me. I peek above the water's surface and I am blinded of myself by my "self".