Let Them Come

Flow comes to mind here. At no point should expectations be raised. Co-ordinate desire with the pleasures of the flesh? Is this possible? No. Desire is, by definition, a non-physical entity.
Who would guess that I waded through the cold uphillness of the path to get here?
Make up words and write them over top of other words. Do it Now!
Essential freedom of thought in this place.
Can a pink melodica change the face of things? Maybe it can. Accept the reality of that possibility.
Keep contained within yourself the seeds of greatness, and trees cannot coagulate into full-grown entities.
Compositionally speaking: the human character is perpetually separate.
Hopeless recombination!!!
Can you re-consult oracles?
Will they tell you something different? Or
can they? Are they forced to tell you consistencies?
Do words have to be linear, or is it simply to aid in comprehension.
It’s funny the power music has. Start a tune. Maybe people don’t know it, maybe they do. It turns out that I can play “Caress Me Down.”
Convince yourself that which isn’t… is. Consultations are free
in Birmingham.
“Love of mine, someday you will die, but I’ll be close behind, and follow you into the dark.
No blinding light, or tunnels to gates of white, just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark.”
“The light wraps you in its mortal flame, abstracted pale mourner, standing that way against the old propellers of the twilight that revolves around you. Speechless, my friend, alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead, and filled with the lives of fire, pure heir of the ruined day. A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment. The great roots of night grow suddenly from your soul and the things that hide in you come out again so that a blue and pallid people, your newly born, takes nourishment.”
Misunderstood significance runs rampant here. Does it mean? Yes. What does it mean? Recognize the fleeting and let it be fleeting. I hate Coldplay. I love having a pen in my hand… comfort. Free play meaning fluid. This place is where you learn to accept the fleeting reality that is human existence.
Obvious, isn’t it, the radical shift in tone?
Brainwaves have this way of jumping around, especially when channeling the sub-conscious that is entirely unpredictable—a bit like the path of a tornado. I think only the consciousness is allowed to concentrate. It would probably defeat the purpose if our sub-conscious was allowed to concentrate. Its job is to move quickly and file everything. It is the most efficient secretary ever conceived. Then, when everything is filed, it turns itself around and around like an enormous rolodex, speed reading everything over and over and over, faster than it is possible to comprehend, until it comes to understand whatever it is it’s possible to understand.
It throws the trash away into dreams—or at least the stuff it doesn’t want to deal with anymore—which is why dreams are usually so entertaining and useful.
It makes people pop into your head at precisely the moment they are supposed to. Over a week ago I received an email from a very dear friend that lives in New York City. It was an important email. It had a lot of information in it, and it certainly required a response, but not immediately. Time wears on, and a couple of days ago, for no reason whatsoever, her name popped into my head as if the sub-conscious was done sorting through whatever it had needed to sort through and the appropriate time for a response was now.
What is that about? How can we get more in touch with this mysterious brain process? Can we? It’s probably not worth it. We would never be able to understand it anyhow.
Let it be what it is. Those simple words are all too difficult sometimes, aren’t they? It is almost human nature to want to mold things, shape things into an image of our own, but the reality is that things, left to their own devices, are usually better off without human interference. Most endangered species wouldn’t be endangered in the first place, and nature has this funny way of knowing which animals ought to survive and which oughtn’t that is so outside the scope of human knowledge that…
A thought: can humans be said to be a part of nature? We are the only animal that attempts to mold nature to our own will. We keep people alive that, in the natural order, would die. We mow down trees and plants to build ghastly metal structures. We destroy the beautiful to erect the disgusting. Perhaps this is the essential fallacy of humanity: we ARE a part of nature. We have just spent so much time attempting to convince ourselves that, somehow, we can win. There are ways to defeat little bits of nature here and there, but nature likes to give us little warning signs like hurricanes, typhoons, tornadoes, tsunamis and volcanoes that ought to illustrate how quickly Mother Nature could tear us down to our real size (which is pretty puny if you think about it) if she so desired. To her, time is nothing. The average human lifespan doesn’t even register as a blip on the surface of her history or her future. The sun is going to die. OK… IN FIVE BILLION YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!! Some quick math: what’s 5 billion, minus 100 (and we’re being VERY generous with a human lifespan here)?
499,999,999,900. That is a very big number my friends.
No. Humanity won’t last that long I’m afraid. All is pointless, hopeless, and fleeting. BUT THAT’S ITS BEAUTY!!! That’s where the beauty comes from, not this immortality everybody thinks they want. In immortality, all is pointed, hopeful and enduring. If only for the fact that, to me, living in a state of hope forever sounds like the worst torture anybody could endure, it seems like the dread of the knowledge, the truth, that things will come to an end, seems like a far, far better thing than living in the dream world of hoping that they won’t. So let them come, whatever they be. Let them go, whatever they are. Let them do whatever they will.