Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Day Ten: Journal of Infinite Testimony on The Sea, Lost, Found

You get on the ship to go out into the sea. The ship is at the dock and you're getting on with all the others. Everyone is dressed as if they are going to get wet. It's cold. The air that you breathe is so crisp and nice as it goes through your nostrils into the lungs and then you exhale and you can see your breath take off and fly away and disappear into thin air. Everyone is going out into the sea to look for something you are not sure even exists but you know that this is where you want to go. This is what you want to do. The captain asks if everyone is aboard and you're packed to the brim on this little ship. So many mixed feelings you have about going out into the middle of nowhere with all of these people around you and no chance of escape once you get out there. No one knows anyone on this ship. You look around you and there are all these faces you have never seen before. All these feelings arise even more of helplessness. The ship sets its course and heads out of the mainland. You look at the land and watch it slowly disappear behind you.

The more you move outside of the familiar terrain the more terror you start to feel inside of you. Who are all of these people around me? Why did I get on this ship? What exactly am I looking for? Are all of these people on this ship with me looking for the same thing? We move further and further out to sea. There's nothing out here. Open sky and a vast flat landscape of blue ocean on all sides. The people start to gather in small groups and discuss things like politics, religious beliefs, scientific discoveries, tragedies, triumphs, climbing mountains and then falling down them. They ask silly questions about the existence of non-existence and why does rain feel wet and other such nonsensical ideas about ideas.

This is the usual conversations in my dreams. In my dreams on the open sea on this ship with all of these people they show me newspaper headlines of buildings collapsing, people screaming, obituaries. The people start talking louder and louder and louder. So loud that eventually no one hears anyone. So loud that you can't even call it loud anymore because it becomes one giant frequency of sound. The captain points off into the distance and I look and see a storm brewing. Lightning. Big waves. Pouring rain. We all start panicking seeing all of this right ahead of us. What do we do? There is nowhere to go. There is nothing to do.

The ship starts getting tossed around by the big hungry sea. We all start huddling together. Waves crash onto the boat. We start slipping. The rain pours harder and harder. It tears us down. The sky turns grey and gray and grey. The waves start to overpower us. They start crashing onto the floorboards of the ship. The captain becomes mad with some odd delight in this maneuvering the collapsing sea. He smokes a pipe as he becomes more un-satiated.

More he screams. More! MORE!!! His eyes turn red. People are screaming. They all try to run but there is nowhere to go. Everyone is piled up on everyone. The waves are pounding people off of the ship. People jump ship. Woman and children scream for each other. They hold each other. Man jumps overboard. Another woman overboard. Another man. No one is talking anymore. No one has anything to say. Its happening. They know it's happening now. Everything they ever talked about. Everything they ever wished for. Every aspect of an aspect of an aspect. Every devilish grin. Every invitation for disaster. Every thought about the end of everything. Every creative thought and feeling about the destruction of creation.

The sea is taking its victims. It swallows them whole without a second thought. It doesn't have time to think. This is nature. This is natural. I stand there in the center of the ship and watch this all happen. The ship is getting tossed around. Everyone gets thrown overboard over a period of time. The rain slowly stops. The waves slowly disappear and its just the captain and I now. The infinite sea all around us and we are all alone. The sea swallowed everyone. We drift on as the sun slowly sets over the horizon. The captain comes down from the ships helm. We talk for awhile while he smokes a pipe. We go down into the ships belly and make some food.

Everything is now calm and clear. We hear a loud crash and head back outside for a moment. We crash into an island.

There is a man standing in the distance with a light in his hand.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Day Nine: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Seeds, Sprouts, Trees, Moneys

A seed falls from the sky into the fresh soil that has toiled. It sits there as the sun gives it sunshine. The clouds come in and it starts to rain. Pools of water start to collect in the soil and the seed starts drowning in it. The seed starts falling under the soil as the water penetrates it and opens it up. As the water crashes onto the soil it covers the seed. The seed is buried inside of the soil. It stops raining. The night comes. The seed sits under the soil and rests with the moon. The wind blows. The sun comes up over the horizon and gives its light. The seed feels its warmth under the blanket of the soil.

Then suddenly the seed starts to open little by little as a sprout slowly pushes its way out of the hard shell. The soft sprout keeps pushing as the seed gives birth to something new. Something it never knew it had inside of itself. The sprout pushes harder and harder. The clouds come in and rain on the soil and give it water. The sprout drinks. The moon comes. The winds blow. The morning comes again. The sun warms the blanket of soil. The sprout pushes out again. The seeds shell breaks. The soil moves. The clouds come in and it rains soaking the sprout. The sprout drinks and grows bigger. The sun shines and warms the soil. The sprout pushes itself out of the soil so it can see the sun. The moon comes out. It sits silently. The wind blows. The sun comes up and warms the sprout that is starting to grow into a plant. Limbs start appearing. Green tender limbs.

The clouds come and it rains. The plant drinks. The plant turns greener and greener. The moon comes out. The wind blows. The plant grow more and more. The sun comes up and warms the plant. The clouds come in and it rains. The rain falls to the ground and collects in puddles. The plant drinks the water. The winds blow. The moon comes up. The plant grows into a small tree. The small tree sits silently. The sun comes up and warms the tree. The tree grows bigger. Leaves appear. People come in and clear out other trees next to it. The sun comes. The clouds come and it rains. The tree drinks. The moon comes. The tree stands in silence. The winds blow. The sun comes up. Homes are built. Grass is grown. Driveways are poured. Mail is delivered. The lawn is mowed. The tree has grown much bigger. The sun has given it warmth. The rain has given it a drink each day. The moon has shown it silence. The winds have blown to give it air. The sun comes up again.

The people eat breakfast as the sun comes up and gives it warmth. The tree grows more. The sun shines as the kids run around on the grass in the yard. The leaves fall. The kids go inside and are tired. The moon comes up. The tree silently blows in the wind. The home turns into many houses. The people grow into many people and families. The mailman delivers so much mail now that is from the trees. The tree grows. The rain falls. The wind blows violently. The leaves fall. The people make a city. Everyone is bustling here and there and everywhere. Everything is cement. The tree is alone. People walk by. People drive by. The mailmen are delivering bucket loads of mail that have come from the trees. The moon comes out. The tree grows bigger and bigger and bigger. The city grows bigger and bigger and bigger. The people need more and more and more and more.

The cars drive and drive and drive. The buildings grow so big that the sunshine doesn't shine in as much anymore. The leaves fall. People fall in love. People work. People drink coffee. Trains go back and forth on the tracks. Neighborhoods burn down. Neighborhoods are built. Everyone is busy. Time flies by. The sun comes up. The buildings block the sun. It rains. The trash falls down in rivers. The people make the city bigger. Computers take over everything. People don't think anymore.

No one knows what to do with anything anymore. People consume. People die. The trees die. They take the tree and make money out of it. People lose connection with nature. City officials fill in the hole where the tree was with cement. The one dollar bill turns into a million dollar bills and then into a trillion dollar bills and then into a gazillion dollar bills.

No one thanks the tree. The tree that plays so much of a role in the lives of everyone in this world.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Day Eight: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Going Up Up Up and Going Down Down Down

You move from one location to another location, to another location, to another location. You walk here to there from there to here and back to there again. Your up, your down, you're all around. One minute lost in the air and the next crashing to the ground. You fly towards the sun, you fall back down to the earth, you fly to the moon, you fall back down to the earth again. You jump into the ocean. You swim onto the beach. You jump into the ocean again. You swim to the bottom. Gasping for air. Holding it all in to see what is down there at the bottom. You swim back up to the surface again.

You sit still in a room and everything is moving. You move all over the place and everything seems like it has never moved. You look out one window in one city. You look out another window in another city. You meet this person. You meet that person. That person meets a person who knows the other person you just met and that person knows a person you have always known. That known person knows another person who knows another person who is a doctor. That doctor knows a nurse. That nurse knows a millionaire. That millionaire knows a security guard who knows someone who works in a coffee shop who sells coffee to someone who plays guitar in a band who used to play music with someone else that you used to know. This thought leads to this emotion as this emotion leads to this action. This action leads to this opportunity. This opportunity leads to this place as this place leads you to this person who present another opportunity that leads you to another opportunity. That leads you to another place that leads you to another person that leads you to another place that leads you to another opportunity.

You jump back into the ocean and swim to the bottom. You see a light. You grab onto it. It brings you through a cave. The cave shows you an ancient city. The ancient city still has people there. They never left. It is the old civilization. It is Atlantis. No one knows your name but they remember your face. You remember their faces. It is a beautiful place. They bring you under the ground of the bottom of the ocean and there is yet another civilization, more ancient than the one that you have just met. They teach you about all of the times you have incarnated down here and have gone to the surface only to come right back to the origins again. They teach you all points of time, no points of time, folding space and time together. Implosions. Explosions. No-plosions.

There are a few still who have incarnated who want to know the truth about everything. How everything is interlinked even the most absurd things are interlinked. The future is the past, the past is the present the present is the future and the past and the present. The one consciousness that you are cannot be created nor destroyed. The story never ends, never began and is now happening.

Below the Atlantic and below the Pacific's is yet another civilization. They don't speak. They have no use for tongues but under there you can hear the loudest silence ever known to any man.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Day Seven: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Narrowing It All Down To Be With You

I have been you and you have been me. Me has been someone else as someone else has been another that I never knew. Someone arrived. Someone left. Someone stayed in the same place. Anyone I knew before I no longer know and I no longer know anyone I will know because it hasn't happened yet. Anything that hasn't happened yet might not happen because I do not know what is going to happen until it is happening. While it is happening, it has already happened the moment I have written down that it is happening. This makes it possible that I have already died. I am dying and I have also yet to die. I have died as everyone over forty-two billion years. I am dying now as we all die. Both you and I. I and you. You that you know yourself to be. You that you think yourself to be. You that you will never be. You that you already were. You that had been here, there, everywhere and nowhere. I that I had been, I that I am, I that I will be and I that I never was, will never be, could never be, should never be, would never be, was. I was Joan or Arc burned at the stake. I was Hitler taking over a whole race.

I was Zeus. I was Charis. I was Elizabeth Bathory. I was Vlad the Impaler. I was Nosferatu. I was the beginning of time. I was time itself. I am no time. I am no mind. I am all that was, is and will be. I was the camera. I was the file. I was the cabinet. The government. I was the psychic. The psychiatrist. The communist. Socialist. I was the banner. The planner. The image. I was you and you were me. I was the lens. The film. The trace. The copy. Disgrace. I was atheism. Hinduism. Magic. Tragic. I was every father, mother, child, sister, brother. I was the sun. The moon. I am pure awareness. Pure consciousness. Pure Love. Pure devotion. Pure evolution. I am one with all and all is one. This is what it is. I am not any of anything anymore that you think I am only I have the eyes to see me. You are the thing that you think I am. I am the thing I think you are.

I am done TRYING to do things. Trying to make things happen. I am the thing I was looking for. I had left but now I have been found. I can tell you anything that is not and everything that is but it won't make a difference. The stick has been removed from my eye. The burn has been healed. This is an example of a paragraph that depicts many ideas of things that were, things that are, things that may be. Possibly. I am the center of the wheel that doesn't move while it spins around and around. I am the ship that sails around the world looking for something that never will be found. I am the conversation that goes in one ear and out the other. I am the father that is also a mother, a son, a lover, a brother, a grandfather. I am forty-two billion years old and I am ageless. I am the clock that has stopped ticking. I am my own contradiction. I am my own best friend. I am my own sadness. I am the joy. I am love. I am everything under the sun. I am you.

I move when I never do. I see what I never saw. I taste what I never ate. I digest you. You digest me. I am a sand grain in a deserted sea. I am the depth of the ocean. I am everything undiscovered. I am everything uncovered. I am every lover. I am a tear. I am laughter. I am a scream. I am a dream. I deal with you. I steal with you. I feel you. I thought of you. I spoke of you. I called you. If I call, please answer. If I knock please answer the door. If I give you enough know that there is always more. If I confuse you then know that there's more to make sense. If you thirst then it will be quenched with more thirst. If you hunger then know that you will be fed with more hunger. If you think yourself to be then know there will be more to be.

It was already decided. Everyone has ideas. No one has any idea.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Day Six: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Dreams of Other Worlds At War

In dreams in sleep things happen that go beyond the wildest of imaginations, the wildest of conceptions, the wildest of sweet anythings. This wild imagining took place in Baghdad. I have no clue how I got there or what purpose it was for me to be there. There were children running all over the grass and the palm trees were swaying in the winds. Old women were coming back from the market with bags in each of their hands. Some men were working on their cars in driveways. Others were watering the lawn, getting the mail. It was a calm peaceful, serene day.

I was walking down the street and bumped into Roxanne on the street. We both were very surprised to see each other. I had walked from one direction and she had walked from the opposite and somehow in the middle of the intersection on this fateful day, we had walked to the same exact spot.
This was very interesting because in my living life Roxanne lives in Brooklyn off of Atlantic Avenue where there is a whole different kind of life going on. Where there are gypsy cabs always hailing you for rides over the Manhattan Bridge. Rasta guys selling weed and incense but always incense first. The train at this area is a hybrid of so many stops all coming together only to take back off again in different directions. It's a bleak neighborhood. So here she is. All dressed up in a yellowish white gown, pearls in her hair, diamonds in her eyes. We walk for a little while catching up as if it has been a millennial since the last time we have seen each other. It was like a whole lifetime had passed and we had a lot of catching up to do. It was a very beautiful dream.

The sun was slowly setting. The night time breeze was breathing its air. Then from out of nowhere. Missiles starting to land all around us. Demolishing little kids. Everyone started to panic. Everyone starting running in a million different direction. Kids were hiding behind stone walls. People were running in and out of their homes. Cars were parking and taking off into all kinds of directions. We started running together to find a shelter. Kids were peeling up the grass and hiding underneath it. It started to get kind of crazy the dream. Things that don't normally happen in real life started to happen.

Tanks started flying off the ground. Gravity started going in the other direction. It started to lift everything up towards the sky. We found an underground bunker and went and hid inside. There were other people in here. We made new friends and waited it out. There was a small window in the top of it and I could see out. I watched gravity start to lift everything up. Missiles. Tanks. Guns. Military people. It only lifted the things that were causing the war. It lifted them so high into the sky that there was nothing left other than what had already been there before it happened. Then at some moment, there was a bunch of lights in the sky and everything blew up.

Roxanne and I held each other in the bunker and waited for a moment when we could go back outside. I woke back up on the living room floor in San Francisco. It was interesting to have been in one place somewhere else and then wake up into another place all in a few moments time.
This leads me to wonder if dreams are real and if we experience multi-dimensional experiences at the same exact time. Do I have other me's that live according to what those wishes are to those other parts of my psyche and self and after they have their experiences both past, present and future? Do they return otherworldly information to me that benefits my growth and acceleration in the current present awakened life I have chosen to live?

These experiences bring up a lot of questions about reality, dreams, other times and places and experiences. Are there many other parts of me functioning to serve other purposes? These lucid dreams have been happening to me ever since I was a child. Sometimes, I write them down and other times I just ignore them and don't care about what they are about or where they have taken place. Other times I wonder if it is just my brain taking all of the different information that I have read, experienced, conversations about different topics with different people piecing all of them together to make a story that I can follow in dreams so I have a story to tell in an awakened state.

It seems my city will not be ravaged anymore in either state. This city has been unearthed.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Day Five: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Pounding Headaches That Leave You Feeling Like Smashing A Hammer Into Your Cerebral Cortex

Drip, drip, drip goes my serotonin into the extraneuronal space. It leaks like a water faucet. I can hear it. The pattern it makes. The empty sound all around. It's like Chinese water torture. I am being tortured by the second. Drip after drip after drip and there's nothing I can do about it. My iris swells. My eyes are killing me. My brain feels like a massive lump of dead weight inside my head and I want nothing more than to smash it as hard as possible into the ground or with a hammer. This is what it is like to be intelligent, so intelligent that your brain is constantly thinking, constantly firing off synapses.

A constant lightning storm. Floods of thoughts. Tsunami of dreams. Memory after memory after memory of this life I have lived so far. Of other lives, I have lived before this one. Germany. Beirut. Italy. France. Man. Woman. Heir to the throne of ancient queens. A peasant in the street. Mobster losing bets. The Little boy in the holocaust. Rocks. Nazi's. Boats. Colorful dreams. Mountains. Rainforest's. Gunfire in the Vietnam war. People running screaming. Airplanes crashing. Buildings blowing up. Submarines at the bottom of the ocean. The airliner's sinking to the bottom of the ocean. 100 ad. 200 BC. 3010. Tokyo sunrises. Buildings that make no sense architecturally. The subway. The airway. The highway. The low way. No way out of here. No exit. No entrance.

Conception. Millions of sperm swimming. Fucked in the back of a 57' Chevy. Fucked on the side of the highway with a blown tire. Sleeping in nightmares. Buried alive. The color blue. The color red. World disasters all over. Scripts. Prophecies. Duality. Alice in wonderland. Malice through the looking glass. Brothers. Sisters. Mothers. Cousins. Grandfathers. Grandmothers. Great Grandparents. Great Great Great Grandparents. Cavemen. Lotus flowers. Mud. Buddha. Krishna. Christ. Famine. Sickness. Disease. Pearl Harbor. Wet diapers. Babies running around the streets without anyone. Seven years old. Eight years old. Nine years old.

3.14159265358979323846264338327950288. Golden spirals. Lemniscate. Magician. High Priestess. The Devil. Death. Life. Water. Air. An atom. A capillary. The sun. The moon. The ocean. A river. Meditation. Lamentation. Fear. Love. Heart. Brain. Homunculus. Ridiculous. A sentence. A word. A paragraph. A book. A novel. Fiction. Truth. Lies. Movies. Real life. Stories. Bank accounts. Money. Poverty. So many things. Not enough things. Health. Doctors. Nurses. Hospitals. Clinics. A penis. A vagina. Eyelids. Open. Closed. Out of business. The news. The weather. Belief. Religion. Faith. Hope. Authenticity. Fake. Blasphemy. Unknown. Paradoxical. Intrinsic. Part. Whole. Broken. Tossed to the side of the road. Abandoned. Left for dead. Lack of anything else to say. Too much talking. Too much silence. Space. Matter. Star systems. Movement. Rest.

Vampires. Wolves. Gold diggers. Harlots. Concubines. Whores. Drag queens. Brooklyn. Manhattan. Queens. Bushwick. Williamsburgh. Alphabet City. All of the women, I have ever been with. All of the women, I will never be with. All of the people who know me. All of the people who don't know me. All of the people who think they know me. All of the people who see me and stare. All of the people who don't give a care. All of the people that matter. All of the people that mind. Friend. Acquaintance. Stranger. Pharaoh. Capitalism. Socialism. Ism. Ain't. Is not. Will never be. Could have been. Should have been. Would have been. Past. Present. Future. Descript. Nondescriptor.

The alphabet. The numbers. Winners. Losers. Black. White. Strong. Might. Dark. Light. This way. That way. Anyway. No way. Etcetera. Etcetera. Never ending. Ending one day. Forever. Never say never. This can keep going on and on and on and on and on. This is what it is like when your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and other lives you have lived also flash before your eyes and words. Things. Places. Locations. Everything. You wonder why I have a headache. Aspirin. Tylenol. Advil. Chicken. Turkey. Pheasant. Duck. Rice. Cous Cous. Indian. Moroccan. Muslim. Allah. Steeples. Churches. Mosques.

Creation. Destruction. Structure. Discipline. Alaska. Antarctica. Egypt. NYC. Los Angeles. San Francisco. The holy trinity. Shiva. Brahma. Vishnu. Kali Ma. Sai baba. Lakshmi. Goddess. Things I left out. Things I forgot. Things I remember. Things I don't know yet. Things I think I know. Things I will never know. Purity.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Day Four: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Boxes that Box you In, Working Outside the Box and The Disappearing Box Trick

When it is sunny you would say it is not raining. When it rains sometimes it is sunny. When it is not sunny at all and it is raining; it is raining and not sunny.

Now most people in the the first, second and third dimension would utilize this information and we would be correct to say that these are great illustrations of obvious observations. Obvious observation. So obvious that they are overlooked. When it is sunny, it is sunny. That is what other people would say. They wouldn't worry about the fact that it is not raining. If it is not raining, well then it is safe to say that it is not raining. When it is not sunny and it is raining then you know that you will need to bring an umbrella if you are going to go outside, otherwise you may get wet and it'll be some time before you will be dry due to the fact that the sun is not out.

The most paradoxical thought in the world happens when it is neither raining nor sunny. When and where does this happen? This happens in the fourth dimension where all things are possible. Anything is possible in the fourth dimension because as obvious observation has stated before, it is obviously observed. I have spent much time in the land of the fourth dimension if you would call it that and have watched weather patterns that make absolutely no sense and landscapes and terrain you would never be able to understand.

Have you ever seen a shag carpet lawn? or a lawn made of broken glass. Lawnmowers that fly and mow the clouds in the sky? The weather man doesn't even report the weather anymore. It's more of an argument channel where three different people tell you what the weather is going to be like that day and through a series of debates and judicial legislatement the weather is finalized for point five tenth of a second. That is why the weather is never accurate and will never be. The argument can continue on forever and it does.

That is why in this land you will notice the sun, the clouds, the moon is constantly moving in and out at the same exact moment. There are no zoos, parking garages, or any type of enclosed spaces because the animals can run very fast, can fly very high, the cars turn into atoms every time you get out and all you need is a pair of tweezers to pull an atom out and turn it back into a car. Enclosed spaces are useless because the moment you have a wall up, it falls back down and then when it falls back down it turns into a floor.

Our walls are what we cannot see; invisible walls. You can see right through them. But they are there for the protection of outside forces.

In this world, everyone knows that everything is absurd and ridiculous all around you so it reminds you of this every single day. It shows you that it is so ridiculous by showing you these hilarious scenes. Wherever you go.

You walk through the park and you watch mimes scream only you can actually hear it this time. It sounds much like the way your stomach screams when it is hungry but slowed down in a time signature that can only be heard for less than a second.

The trees dance to the music that is played by the people who play lots of different types of music, sometimes they dance so much that the leaves turn into money and everyone is a winner.

In this world there is no beginning, no ending, no sadness, no drama, it is all nothing because you realize that all of it is a charade. Method actors all playing a part. Some of them are more convincing than others. In this world, there is no such thing as anything that is ever finished.

So for this world, you will have to figure out the rest of the story on your own. This is not the ending of the story. There are just invisible words after this sentence.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Day Three: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Subjects That Subject You To Rethink Your Analysis

Where I am from everyone lives backwards. The ass is in the front and the other genital parts are in the back. This makes making love a very interesting thing to do. Two people must enter from the rear entrance in a very forward like manner. This is enabled by passive aggressively playing a game of battleship; first, to prove who is who. Then, to prove what is what. Then, to prove where is where. Then, to prove why is why. Then, to prove how is how. Then, the captain of the ship is somehow resurrected and if the ship comes back up from sinking and you bring everyone back to life, you are the winner.

Afterwards, you collect a small specimen of semen and vaginal fluids from tubes and deliver them back to both of the organs and then put the tubes back into their packages. Once delivered to the organs a heightened feeling of ecstasy slowly works its way into a slow breath and a slow breath into a soft purr. You work down to a point where you finally open your eyes, unhitch organs, touch skin, kiss slowly, roll around a few times and then end up putting your clothes back on again. You kiss a little bit more. You extract a drink from your mouth back into a glass and end up pouring it back into a bottle that is labelled Merlot. You talk about all kinds of nonsense. You both walk out of the bedroom of where you had just extracted the whole situation as if you had discovered something you may have left behind. After that, you walk out of the house, into a car and drive to a store that sells wine. You bring the bottle back and the man at the counter pays you to put it back onto the shelf. You then get back into the car.

Then you walk backwards from your arrival at home to where you extract a very fine dinner. You put each morsel back onto the plate, then back into the oven and then back into the boxes which they came from. Then you push your chair in. You take the groceries out of the fridge and cabinets and return them back into bags. You open the garage only to find a car hidden inside. You walk into the car and the door slams open for you. You look into the front windshield and back out of the garage; it closes itself. Then you both say hello to each other as if you had just met for the last time.

You drive. Everyone drives backwards. They hit the brakes to go and the accelerator to stop. The traffic cop is always blowing his whistle telling you-you should have entered before you left but he's just as backwards as forwards can be. You drive to the grocery store where you get paid to return everything back onto the shelves of the store. You walk back out of the store empty-handed. You slam your door open and get back into the car and drive backwards out of the parking lot.

You arrive back to work. You finally leave work only to find that your boss has so many finished things for you not to do. You turn your computer on and erase all of the words from the word documents and excel spreadsheets. You un-shred all of your documents. and place them back into folders which then get placed back into filing cabinets. You put coffee back into your coffee cup from your mouth and let it drip back into a machine that fills itself back up. The coffee then gets really hot and turns back to water.

You walk back into the cafeteria where the trash hands you your lunch back into its containers. You then sit back down and put the food back from your mouth back onto the plate and then return it to the kitchen where people put it back into very hot containers that have steam going back to water.

Cups of coffee fall out of your mouth and back into the cup. You extract 2 lumps of sugar, half & half and you return them back to the place they are always sitting in before you had arrived to fill them up. Then you talk about how it is going to be when you get back to the place that you started from and how you will return from that vacation that you have already gone on in some northern part of the country where snow always rises back into the clouds and then the clouds somehow disappear back into the sky and everything turns blue.

Then you sit back down into your cubicle and the computer shows you how to put all of the email messages back to where they immediately disappear without a trace. You then sit for awhile sending messages back to their start and look at pictures of people that you once knew. You get up to go to the bathroom. You walk into the bathroom and extract a wet paper towel from the trash and dry it with your hands, then you put water back into the spout.

You walk over to the urinal and piss ends up going back into your organ and you finally feel full again. You walk back to your cubicle. Your computer turns itself off. Your coat falls back onto your back. Your boss waves for you to leave and you walk down a long hallway and everyone is going back to their cars where the doors open up and you get back inside. A cigarette falls up from the ground and ashes itself back to life, then a very large flame from a very large lighter goes back inside and falls back into the glove compartment.

The radio turns itself on as the key turns the car on itself. Everyone drives out of the driveway and everyone arrives at destinations where they walk back inside of their houses. Their wives kiss them goodbye and they sit together extracting coffee from their mouths as well as scrambled eggs, buttered toast and apples. Then the milk is filled back up. The eggs end up back in the shells. The refrigerator becomes full again. The wives end up walking back up the stairs, the husbands end up putting the shower water back into the spout, along with filling up bottles of shampoo, lathering soap back into the bar. Toothpaste ends up falling back into their mouths, the toothbrush ends up back in the holder and the toothpaste is put back into the tube.

The husband walks back into the bedroom where the wife is covering her naked body back in the bed. The husband takes off his robe and dismounts back into the bed. They both say Good Morning and they go back to looking terrible again.

They close their eyes and roll around for many hours while the Moon comes up and the Sun goes down. Every sense becomes nonsense. Nonsense making sense.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Day Two: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Nothing and Other Ramblings

If you make a really long introduction people may or may not read it or even into it. Maybe. Yeah, that's good. That sounds really intelligent. Even the title of this story I have yet to make up. Read the title again. It sounds like it was written by someone who likes long titles. Don't worry though. It's not me that wrote it. It's someone else. Someone else very far away from another planet. The planet has no name, no face and no one lives there. How do I know you ask? I was the only one there. Many have tried to land there before me but have never made it. It's a very long deep space travel to get there and there is always the possibility of getting lost along the way.

It's a treacherous journey with no guarantee that you will ever find your way back home. No maps, no guides, just open space. Stars. Planets. All that space filling up the void. Every now and again if you are lucky you see a shooting star or burning things that flare up and fly by. You inch deeper and deeper into the depths of the unknown and when you least expect it you find the planet I am talking about.

It's not the kind of place you go on vacation or you settle down into but who really knows other than I. I am like a satellite still flying out there picking up reception from other far away places still hearing the distress call that keeps calling me to you. Lately though I have realized that it's not a call of distress, rather it is a call for a connection.

This all happened when I went to take a nap last year. I remember it. I was laying down and I just passed out really fast. Then I took off like a flash of lightning but slowly at the same time. I left out of 5 stories of brick and mortar. I flew through clouds. Birds. Planes. Gravity changed.

Going through the earth's thick layer of ozone was like passing a thread through a needle. It takes a very precise entrance and exit at the same exact moment. Then no noise. Nothing. Floating like anything that floats but weightless. You never land. And thus began the entrance to everything I have been talking about.

Bear with me. Synapses firing from memory. Electrical. Conjugation. Words. All this space and really nothing to write about. Writing about nothing. About anything. Desperate to communicate. Crash landing onto the planet after light years of travel which happened in the blink of an eye. You blinked and I blinked at the same exact time and at the same exact time I was there and gone but it took a whole year to catch up with it.

That's the tricky thing about space travel. You go in and out the door at the same time. You fold a protein. It folds you. You inside-out at the same time as you outside-in. You collapse on yourself and yourself collapses on you. Everything happens all at the same exact time. The creation, the destruction, the beginning, the end, the light, the darkness, the chaos, the silence, the complex, the simplicity.

I wrote this already but haven't even started at the same time. I already finished what I haven't even begun. My future self already arrived and left. My past self never made it back from the return trip and here I am. Message from a remote place. Message from glass that has yet to evolve from sand. If you understand this then you already understood it and if you already understood it then you have yet to understand it. That is what happens when you go through all of the ideas of how everything is, was and will be. You sift and sift and sift through the sand looking for something, anything and nothing all at the same time. You get just that. You get something out of it, you get anything out of it and you get nothing out of it.

I am constantly explaining what this means to you but does this even mean anything to you. I know you're there watching me write this. I see you. I make believe I see you. I imagine you seeing me. Does that make you real? If it does do you think you could stop staring at me. Just for a moment. Ok, now your not staring. Thank you. OK, I'll stop telling you what to do. Will you stop telling me what to do? Wait that is not you. I know. On and on and on and on. I get it. I completely understand it. I can keep writing and writing and writing and writing and writing. This. That and the other thing. Over and over again. Ok, let's go outside today. We have been inside for far too long.

Integration of the anomaly. That's fine. I can give you everything you want. But you will have to want everything that I will give to you. I'm sure you understand what this means. It's ok. Some people will think you are crazy. It's totally fine. There is a balance between everything. Some people will think that you are not crazy and some people will not know what to think of you and some people will know what you are talking about and some people won't know a damned thing you are saying and some people will say that you are saying things that you are not saying and saying other things that are being said to the things you are saying. We don't have to explain anything to anyone.

There's no point in trying to understand just what it is anyone is saying or you are saying and if saying it is saying exactly what it is that saying is supposed to say. After it is said then it is said and isn't that good enough? Otherwise, you wouldn't have said anything at all and still something would have been said.

If you have read this then hopefully it was good enough to read. If you read this line here, then you will have read everything that was before this line and if you read everything that was before this line then please pardon the appearance of some sort of mentation that started off from a long sentence that took place forty-two billion years ago but just finally saw the light of day.

Your ancient creatures await you. Please write us a postcard to everywhere you will go. Clean those pyramids out of your eyes. Take a bottle of water at least once a day. You will understand everything at some point when you stop understanding what you are trying to understand. Let's stop here for today. This last sentence will end with a period. Please tell me everything is going to be ok. Ok.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Day One: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on A New Beginning Towards The Same Place Again

So there I was. Sitting there. Motionless. Docile. Mute to the loud and noisy chaos of the busy world. You wouldn't even know if I had been there if you weren't looking. Of course, you were though because you could still see. You have eyes. Lucky for you.

So you were standing there and we saw each other in the room full of people and maybe you heard it or maybe you didn't. I'll never know due to the fact that I will never know anything other than the things I saw, the things I said, the moments I made as well as the sound of everything all around me.

How do I write about anything that makes sense? 
How do I express what it is that is so expressionless? 
How do I start off from the ending and make the beginning again?
Endless burning questions of eternity. 

It used to be that I had too much to express and I felt like a mess now it's the exact opposite. There's nothing that feels right. There's nothing that seems like anything. Maybe these are the true thoughts of the dead. There is life to these thoughts but how much can I take them. 

Where will they go? So many questions. I am all out of answers. I was clever once. So clever. I was the most clever person I knew of. Then I met you and everything changed. Every little thing changed in an instance and I have never been the same since. I don't even know what to write anymore.

There are so many stories inside of my head. Filled to the brim with so many memories but I know that is all they will ever be. Just past instances. Declarations of how time passes. How you watch it and how it all runs away whether you are sitting here with me reading this or if you are running halfway around the world or in another galaxy.

There is no other world. There is no other place. These dreams are just vague notions. Glimpses into the frame. So there I was rambling to my dead self. Talking to that part of me like it knows what I am trying to say. Like it knows what I am doing. Like it knows where I am going. Where are we going anyways? Where do you go when you are just visiting. Does it matter if you see the sights, taste the taste, smell the smells. I already know that I inflict this same sermon to nowhere and I love it. I must. I keep repeating it to myself.

Hell, I made it this far down the line. What am I really trying to say? I'm trying too hard I can see it. I am writing this so that I can impress you. Whoever you are. You're out there or are you? Do I just make you up so that I can surprise myself every time? Every time. That is an interesting statement. You will want to read this with something that doesn't make sense. Like something useless. Something you put upside down or backward for the purposes of it serving no function. Like putting all of your furniture in your apartment upside down, mainly for the looks of it. Imagine that. Inviting everyone over. Impressing them. 

See I come up with clever ideas, don't I?

Too much in the self but not full of it. Just curious. Curious to know the processes going on in the background. Seems like that is how they came up with the idea for the computer. Process monitor that has now made our thoughts so precise that there is no more imagination. Is that why we turn to drugs? Hallucinogens. To hallucinate otherworldly things. There's a contradiction, didn't I just get done saying that there is no other world but here I am telling you all about it.

Don't bother reading this. It's not going to help you make any sense out of anything. You won't get any closer to knowing who I am. Maybe I like it that way. An enigma. Yes. A paradox. Perfect. Or maybe that isn't it. Maybe in the end there is really nothing to know because it's all a story anyone can make up. A story we can all tell. That sounds good. Ok, go with it. Perfect.

Here's the story. A guy in his late twenties ends up going through all of the thoughts in his brain so that there are no more thoughts anymore. Nothing happens for some time. Only the things around him. He walks like the ocean sways over the earth. He can communicate anything but doesn't know what it's like to make it up anymore. He only knows how to live it. So how does he tell you about it?

He tries to define it. He tries to explain it but you won't understand it even if he did because you will only take what you want from it. You will only hear what you want to hear. See what you want to see and then you will turn a blind eye to the things that you would never want to know. Isn't that inevitably what we are all afraid of anyway. To be misunderstood. It's going to happen. It's not like anyone understand anyways.

What do we really understand? Do we really understand each other? Do we really relate or are we just agreeing that we do? Will all of this come true or is the vacuum just cleaning up all of this electronic syntax errors?

A man was born a man, made into a machine through a machine and now slowly escapes the machine to go back to being a man. I could see those headlines somewhere but you will never see them in the newspaper or in anything you would ever want to read.

Is this what they call genius? Pure madness? Sparks coming from the machine. Light upon light getting brighter and brighter? So bright it burns up the whole thing. So bright that you can't even describe it any more. So bright that you're on the way to being a star but not the Hollywood kind.

The kind that people see but rarely speak to. The kind that knows it's there but doesn't tell you it is there. The kind you take for granted because it's easier to. You think it will always be there so you never pay attention to it. You only do when you start to feel older. When you start to feel like time's arrow has shot through you and you realize all of the things you have said, all of the things you have done have you standing still instead of spinning in circles like it used to be.

Don't mind me, I never minded you. We just have to talk about these things sometimes even if they never make it anywhere. That is the thing about rambling. Eventually, you get to where you are going but not a minute sooner.