2 Faults

Not Perfect, Not God

So I killed my own sister. Or half-sister. I'm guessing she had a different dad. But I don't know that. Her name was Sarah. Or Sara. I forget. I could look up her grave, and read the gravestone. I've never been. Sarah Salazar. I remember that. There was an army commercial with a soldier in his uniform, with the name Salazar, that reminded me, long ago. I like to think of myself as a psychiatrist. It seems like a fun job, being involved intimately with people's mental lives. A military psychiatrist seems like the best gig. Hardcore and real. So that's what I am, in my own head. I am a pacifist, and aware of the hell of war, and the need for peace between individuals of all stripes, gangs of all colors, countries of all flavors. My dad gave me an “I hate the dodgers” t-shirt when I was a kid. We went to a demolition derby, at the Dixon May Fair, when I was in college. His all-black Model A Ford was named “Ozzie.” And I remember looking at Soldier-of-Fortune magazine, when I was a kid, at the nearby hobby store. I brought home a stack of porn magazines from a flea market, that I hid from my dad, and was going to sell at SI (but instead just gave them away). I could have been expelled! 

Anyway, I was a lector for the Newman center at Davis, while I was an undergrad at UCD. I always considered the Eucharist to be symbolic cannibalism, so Hannibal Lecter, from the book/movie Silence of the Lambs, was relevant in multiple ways: cannibal, lector, genius, hardcore. I've always wanted the insight, brilliance, and lethality of a “monster” like HL. Happiness and love, but also an instrument of hell for evil people, enemies, those who would restrict my freedom, those who hate me, causes of suffering. Vengeance and justice, embodied in the form of a Godly assassin, a living vigilante nightmare for the cruel, brutal, depraved, and wicked. But I've moved beyond this, this desire for violence, this eye for an eye that leaves the whole world blind. I've had my fill of satanism, vampire mentality, demonology, and obsession with the dark, death, murder, revenge, and hate. I was immersed in this, for years, getting satisfaction from movies and music, and being rather solitary, despite the company of my telepathic voice, taking medication for psychosis and schizophrenia. My birthmother, Annette Riddle, is schizophrenic, too. I knew this, and told the doctors, when they diagnosed me; maybe... I'm not, or maybe I shouldn't have told them, leading to the conclusion of hereditary mental illness. Or maybe Annette is happy, telepathically communicating with her friends, in Eugene, OR. So maybe one, both, or neither of us has an affliction! I've related to mutants on x-men, Harry Potter, vampires, neo, antiheroes like HL, Pai Mei, even Sauron and Kaiser Soze. I've willingly let the movies I've seen become personal, hypnotic, and living within me, within my mind, within my mental life. My latest gig has been being none other than God Himself. When will I grow up, and be a boring person, the man I really am, and nothing more? I've been the body politic. I've pondered being a “global telepath.” I've taken everything personally, seriously. But I'm moving toward Buddhism. Why, the Buddha, of course. How could I be anything but? Well, everyone has a buddha nature, so it's not that big a deal. But narcissism, egocentricity, and self-absorption, of someone who wants to be the alpha male, big dog #1, president, etc. can make life interesting, even if it's all a delusion, a farce, role-playing, mental masturbation, and utterly pointless.

So, first I was bipolar. They prescribed lithium, a mood stabilizer. But the highs, the mania, why would anyone want to lose that? Every test in school has a deadline, a speed component, and thinking and speaking quickly, while being happy, that's what I remember myself as being, not someone who vacillated between unhealthy extremes of depression and unrealistic elation. Basically, I think I just annoyed someone by being happy, and ended up getting medicated for it. There's a t-shirt with a happy face, with a bullet-hole in his forehead...so that, in a nutshell. Since then, I've identified with the buddhist “no-self” and seriously considered there's no “me” there, in that maybe I'm channeling the thoughts and experiences and realities of everyone else, including maybe animals, if not insects. I'm a microcosm of the greater world. It's the perspective of a mystic, an adept, or maybe Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. The question remains, am I the cause, or the consequence, of society around me, or both, or neither? How am I different from everybody else? I'm plainly weird, but how weird? I've defined myself by books more than movies or tv, more recently, such as Neuromancer, or that story I've never been able to find from one of the Year's Best Horror and Fantasy series. Ah, life.

So anyway, Sarah Salazar (SS!) was my sister, who I met after my birth-family hired a detective and located me in the dorms at UCDavis when I was a sophomore (wise fool). I got a call from my birth grand-uncle, Mel Lindley, Annette's mom's brother, who lived in Paradise, California. Elba Davenport (Annette's remarried mom), also lived in Paradise, in another home. SS reminds me of nazis, Eugene reminds me of eugenics, and Paradise reminds me of Hell, Norway (there was a fire in Paradise that made the news, a few years back). Hell is a real place, too! (It snows there). Sarah lived in Lancaster, and unlike me, hers was an open adoption, and she both knew and lived with her birth-family, in Paradise, off and on. Sarah was beautiful, younger than me, age 17 I think, and I was excited to know her and make and have a friend for life. I drove down to Lancaster, where her family live(s?/d), and met some of her family, before -after promising to drive safely- driving her in my brown Honda civic, on the way to Davis first, so she could meet my roommates and see my college, and then Paradise, with her belongings in the back. We didn't make it. I crashed. She was ejected, and died. I hope she's in Paradise. I don't believe in souls, or a heavenly afterlife, but still, I hope she's there, on the off-chance I'm wrong. I think it's just a dream people have, or -in some cases- need to believe in, that can be simulated in dreams. Morpheus is the God of dreams, and heaven is just the projected memory (presence?) of the deceased, whom some of us choose to believe are still alive, and inhabiting some actual heavenly realm, and not just the brain/imagination of a dream-God that's telepathically/psychically-broadcasted to us as we sleep. Maybe both or neither, in some sense? It's interesting to think about. So, anyway, I was speeding, driving at night, on god-knows-what freeway, when she lit up a cigarrette in the passenger seat. Which was stupid. I thought I'd try one, too. Which was even more stupid. Then she lit the cigarrette, with my head turned, which was when I veered left, onto the gravel in the center, which caused me to over-correct, and flip down the embankment on the right, ejecting her (no seat-belt). I found her by a tree, unconscious, with labored breathing . I got a cut on my left elbow. I ran to the store nearby, losing one of my sandals in the process (eve and adams?), and started cpr when I didn't feel a pulse or breath, until the ambulance arrived. A helicopter came, and reporter(s?) with cameras, too. It was in the middle of the night. The police drove me to the hospital, where they eventually told me that she had died (I'm not sure when). I called my parents, and my dad came to pick me up. I forget the town we were in. I saw it on a package of prunes, once. But I forget the name. My dad drove me to the crash site, after buying trash bags to put her stuff in, and we picked everything up. Take me away was a song on a cassette of hers. We brought it all to her parents' house, and I apologized and explained what happened, to her family. Her dad was angry, and a woman (aunt?) was also angry. I cried, deeply, in the car with my dad. I returned to Davis, and resumed my job as a student housekeeper. I told some of them about it, and one guy thought the accident must have been sexually influenced, like a blow job or something. It wasn't.

Anyway, it was a nightmare. I shouldn't have been speeding, she shouldn't have been smoking, or not worn her seatbelt, I shouldn't have asked for a cigarette, I shouldn't have taken my eyes of the road, I shouldn't have veered left, I shouldn't have overcorrected, and (maybe) I shouldn't have attempted cpr. That's a whole lot of error (7 or 8). Jeezus. I sometimes think it wasn't my fault, like maybe it was David, in my head, punishing me / pre-emptively killing my reputation, for being pro-life, or not gay, or being dark, or god knows what. I really am sorry. I told her family that she told me a joke, which was true (but left out the part about the cigarettes). Death-sticks, as star wars called them. I kind of considered myself as like darth-vader, screaming down the freeway in my tie-fighter. I'm hardly a jedi. The only time I've ever sword-fought was with noodles in a swimming pool, and I got smacked in the face! Sarah's family got like a million dollars, I think. My dad luckily had insurance. I bought a card to send the family, thanks for your understanding I think it was, but I never sent it. As you might imagine, it was also rough meeting with Annette afterward (years later?), when I took Amtrak to Oregon. I haven't talked to her since, although I've looked online and believe she's still in Oregon, somewhere (else). So I'm hardly Hannibal Lecter, either. I married Sara Brown, and she drove a black honda, with an srs airbag, which is all weird. My name in Spanish is Isai or Jesus, but I'm hardly the messiah, either. That's not to say maybe I shouldn't give it a shot. ME 2!

My blog says I'm God, but for now I'm going to try being a middle-aged man, without a girlfriend or wife, living alone, and trying to climb his way out of hell into health and sanity, as a brother, son, friend, dog-walker, and roommate, interested in life, almost everything, really. Well maybe I've outgrown roller coasters. The crash, I've said, would have been fun, like a rollercoaster, if my sister hadn't have been unbelted/ejected/suffering/killed. Honda means deep in spanish. So i've been a deep thinker, like the Han, duh (ethnic chinese). I won't think anymore when I'm 6 feet under. I'll only be 2 feet under. Unless I'm buried with a wife and child. That would make 6. I'm interested in travel, music, movies, nature, dating, reading, the news, comedy, exercise, vegetarian cooking, restaurants, writing, a few tv shows, martial arts/self-defense, dogfish (pro ultimate frisbee), plays, religion and spirituality (rituals, variety), maybe getting another degree, meditation, and yes, drugs. I want to look good, feel good, be motivated/dedicated (m.o., dead cat!) to goals objectives discipline to etb etr, and be healthy, wealthy, and wise. I want love. Maybe I need to come clean about some stuff. Lover = hell over. IN LOVE=NO EVIL. Hell is he will, well is we will. So get social, be a part of a community (cum-unity?). Fall in love = fell. Ugh. Fell street is in SF. Suck fuck city. There's a Jessie street, too.

The woman I was dating at the time of the accident, Ellen Covington French, is now Ellen Trainor (ET!). She could have been Ellen Teshara, also ET. Covfefe? I have a possible interpretation! Fe =iron. Or faith, in spanish. Faith twice, right and left. Co =company. v- vampire. Do vampires have no reflection, or shatter the mirror, or both? I forget, lol. I'm overweight, and have a gut I want to lose, muscle I want to gain, flexibility too, on the way to some form of martial mastery, ideally. But I'm 46 years old, maybe too old to start this shit. I'm an ancient one. Who wants to be in the company of a vampire, anyway? Only Havelock Vetinari and Woland. Ok, not an immortal. Just me, JLT. Hopefully not jailtime (!) I've also wondered if my driving was influenced by anyone else who might had poor reflexes. I guess I should move on, accept full responsibility for the death of my only blood-relative, other than Annette (I'm honestly not fully certain she's my birthmother!) (I haven't met Richard Stollnitz, although I've been given another name for a possible paternity, too.) I'm grateful for self-driving cars, and am glad I didn't have sex with my sister, or end up being an assassin, like I was honestly tempted to become, despite being the boy who had been awarded “most kind” in grammar school (st. stephen's). I'm glad I survived, and was with Sara, even though that's over, too. Every day is a new day, and I guess I'll start over, March 24, 2018. I can still play around with being God. It may seem crazy, but I think I've hit on something good, helpful, and wise.

The other thing about me, besides the accident, was I spent 10 months in jail, charged with assault and battery on a police officer. Or police officers, since I was wrestling with like 3 of them. There was a group of like 10 of them, all told. This was in Sacramento. God's country. I had stopped taking my medications (I forget which ones I was on at the time), and was living in a room and board that wasn't very healthy: there was no caretaker living with us, the quality and quantity of food was poor, and there were tenants who were really messed up (one was using needles), and one of them wanted to fight me, which I have never done (except for a short , mad, tussle in grammar school). I don't know why he wanted to fight me. I told him to call the cops, and he did, and then I got on the phone, and told them that I had killed someone, which the police dispatcher didn't take seriously (rightly), but I was crazy, and insisted they send police over, because there was a body in the house (a lie). Was that a crime? Lying to the dispatcher? A free-speech infraction, or violation...they don't call it that. I believe I was under the assumption that everything would be fine when they discovered nothing was actually wrong. But I was having heavy delusions of roommates spotting aliens in the sky; that I destroyed 2 universes just by thinking (my brain had two electric “pops” that I interpreted immediately in this way, for some reason); I had called my mom a bitch the day before, on the phone, I think; and I retreated from the police (“here, look where the body is!”) while they had lasers trained on me (!!); and then I gave one cop my right wrist to handcuff, while not giving him my left, to see if I could escape him (I was thinking of it as a chance to have fun -i like wrestling- and also a way for me to train the police (!)); and then, when they finally subdued me, I was looking out of the police car for that spaceship I had in mind from the day before). I needed to be on medication, or go to the hospital, or somehow extricate myself from that house, that roommate (eric), or the police, who had a station nearby, and whom I was actually happy to have there, because I was thinking of myself as more of a cop than a psychotic patient or criminal, and Eric was the real criminal, anyway, for instigating a fight, in my view. He had a pet bunny, I remember. White. So I went to jail, including time at Atascadero State Hospital, because I was deemed “incompetent to stand trial,” where I ate well, met some interesting people, got to play basketball and pingpong, learned the difference between G/NG/NGRI, went to buddhist services, saw a few movies, and used their library. I bought a radio, while there, and an it's it almost daily. My cells in Sacramento were trippy, I remember, because I saw all kinds of representations in the paint on the door, among other things (like string that could be made into a garrote, or the light settings that could be adjusted to create different feeling-tones, or the toilet that could be transformed into a telephone (no joke!)). Also, it seemed like I was in a chinese submarine, waiting to be visited by Stalin, or seeing a punk Hitler in the mirror... Well, anyway, that is all behind me, and I hope and pray nothing but sanity, health, love, friendship, and happiness await.

Manslaughter looks like man slaughter (like a slaughterhouse for humans?!), or man's laughter, but this was a girl's tragedy, nothing funny about it. So I killed my own sister (not intentionally, of course), and went to jail for hitting a cop (I gave the officer a half-hearted gut punch, the “fight” was never serious).

Not much of a God, eh? Compromised, you might say. Or human, like everyone else.

Maybe I feel subhuman, possessed even, and am trying to make up for my mistake.

quote
The man who makes no mistakes does not make anything

a way to pass the time

(while listening to electronica)

 

a- 

army mAn, arnold, avery, awake, al madrigal, albertson's, aspercreme, assiduous, assassin, assault

b-

brad, bigger, bear, bar, bat, baggins, beggar, blasted to bits, beaten w a baseball bat, burned, bloody

c-

cream, cash, cookies, crowbar, cherry, child, chicks, cheese, chi, chimp, corner, crash, carver, crud

d-

death, david, dumb, dig, dag, dog, dork, drumbeat, destruction, depreciation, devil, depressed, dem

e

luckE, ellen, erin, error, ergo, estrogen, empire, everyone, ed, education, eminent, egg, elton, ear

f

fargo, fuck, frickin fracking, fart, fear, fussy, fact, inFection, farce, flatulence, fee fi fo fum, fag, flat

g

grade, god, gore, great, glass, glare, greed, gregarious greg, graduate, grave, green, golly gosh, G-unit

h

happy hall, heaven hell, his holiness, heather helen, horticulture, hades, hagrid, hogwart's, hemp

I

improve, igloo, interest, imp, important, impermanent, implacable, imminent, insurance, integrity

j

jesse, jello, jaguar, jinn, jump, jasper, jordan, jordie, jigsaw, jerry, john, jonathan, jose, joseph, jam

k

kit kat, kaitlyn, kathy, katrina, kaspar, killing, kerry, kaiser, kkk, kevin, kickin' it, kim, klaus

l

love, larry, lore, lorin, last, lump, lick, live, lathe, lorax, limp, listen, list, lately, lucky, lava, log, lid

m

move, marry, mo, modus operandi, mick, mike, mic, microscope, miguel, michael, mark, marketplace

n

no, nil, nothing, nowhere, no one, nobody, nada, nick, narcissism, net, nipple, nasty, north

o

orgasm, orange, ornette, olaf, ok, okay, oliver, okra, oprah, over, ominous, ontario, ollie, old, ostrich

p

pick, pluck, pucker, piss, poop, problem, probable, process, protractor, professional, police, plastic

q

question, query, quicksand, quiver, quaff, queer, queen, quill, quiet!, quash, qua, quack, inQuire

r

rap, revenue, reed, really, rotten, ricardo, rich, rico, rations, ratings, rob, rock, rod, role, ream, rheem

s

suave, swap, switch, swath, sum, sick, sally, serenade, sara, silly, stupid, strings, sim, simple, suds

t

trick, truck, trust, trial, tribe, triceratops, trivia, trains, thanks, this, thick, tim, terrorism, tick tock, tuck

u

ugly, urban, ultraman, uriah, ugh, usually, umpire, untrue, unwise, United, uncle, uv rays, us, untie

v

victim, vampire, values, vicki, victorious, vanquish, vim and vigor, val kilmer, vicious, vice, vladimir

w

wash, wish, water, wicked, wave, wild, wet, windy, woolly, within, without, wick, wimp, wine, winter

x

x-acto knife, xtra, xmen, xylophone, xander, x axis, xray, ex-wife, xox, xerox, xian, xeno, xlax

y

yellow, yarn, yazmin, yazidi, yore, yank, yonder, yolanda, yin, yang, yucky, yummy, yard, yak

z

ziljian, zorro, zlebnick, zz top, catch some z's, zigzag, zinfandel, zero, zeff, zyprexa, zydis, zambia

In Love

A World Without Evil is Possible!

You could, of course, take away laws and police and jails and prisons, but evil would be gone in name only. You could take away everyone's weapons, but it would be easy to make more. You could scare people straight with fear of God, or rather fear of his agent the devil, who is the reason people fear hell. God doesn't want there to be a hell, or anyone to suffer there, or for the devil to have anyone to punish. But freedom is God's gift, so villainy remains a possibility, and therefore hell is necessary. Nothing lasts forever, but a thousand years of hell sure would seem like it. Humans only live a hundred years, give or take, but the promise of thousands (or millions) of years of bliss in a heavenly afterlife is a powerful incentive. If this were made clear, no one would ever cross God again. If the pain of hell were made evident, and the bliss of heaven made known, everyone would be perfect angels.

But only if the mind of God were known, his rules clear, and the law of what resulted in heavenly reward or hellish punishment perfectly understood, by all of humanity, in all cultures, and in all languages, for all time. But instead we have lawyers. We have politicians, in parties. Happy criminals, and miserable kindly folk. We have a mess. We have mortality, and little to no belief in an immortal soul, and heroin bliss and soldier hell, as well as thousands of gods, and even more devils.

What to do? Keep people separated into their own private, exclusionary utopias. A heaven of every flavor, something for everyone. People are different, and enjoy different things. But I am God, and this is what I want: no hell. Truly, heaven is simply not being in hell. If you've ever been there, you know what I mean. It doesn't have to mean heroin and sex on a tropical island. Masochists have their own little world of happy pain. But the rest of us are happy with friends and endorphins and restaurants and movies and music and hiking and camping and sex and comedy and tv and internet and magic and sports. Plays and museums and leisurely strolls through parks and people-watching and naps and libraries full of endless worlds of creativity and imagination.

Maximized happiness would entail no threats (security), universal healthcare (including free gyms), a social safety net guaranteeing a certain level of comfort (no homeless), and of course literacy, to enjoy the entire oeuvre of current and historical escapist delights. Nature and horseback riding, staying warm and dry in the rain, or sunbathing, or splashing around in a pool, or relaxing in a hot tub, or poetry readings, or listening to Joe Frank, or learning/teaching, or making crafts, or getting a massage, or going sailing, or maybe even besting an enemy in combat. Look good, feel good. Early to bed and early to rise. In love. Love is really everything, the last word: loving, loved, in love. Heaven and hell, in binary, comes down to the difference between Torture vs. Love-Bliss. Have a nice day, and a pleasant tomorrow, and may all your christmases be white! No evil=love! 

(in love=no evil, same letters :-)

Portland

vs. stay in Berkeley

I'm contemplating a move; not an easy decision.

Portland:

So, I have many possible futures. I am faced with a choice between two places to live: Berkeley or Portland, OR. I imagine there is a seemingly infinite number of other places I could go, as well. In any case, I'm content where I am, and feel no need or compunction to change anything (yet). But it could be fun; it might even be better! There are SO many factors to consider, in what could be a simple flip of the coin!! But, to do this intelligently, I'll make a list, and check it twice, and use my brain instead of trusting my future to God or Chance.

Weather, family, libraries, rent/wifi/utilities, gym, kp, wag!, food, gtu, kalx, social/dating, SPA, sanity

that's about it, in a nutshell.

Novelty, variety, challenge, change, mixing it up, curiosity, and budget/comfort are important.

Love? Should I pray on it? Ask God and my guardian angel and the powers that be for guidance?

Maybe I should trust that I'll be totally fine, anywhere?

What am I trying to leave behind? Insanity;

annoying, stupid, mean, ugly, rude, ignorant, unhealthy, fat, criminal, deluded, incompetent people

What am I looking for, in a new situation?

Sanity, love, friends, kindness, joy, health, laughter, security, safety, and fun!

I want to learn, master, teach MASD (martial arts, self defense)

I want to read a book/day

I want to lose my gut, gain muscle and flexibility

I want sanity and wealth and comfort and new friends and bliss

I can do all this now, anywhere

wants

I want unlimited data

I want sex

I want longevity and book list completion

I want to travel

I want to be published

I want peace

I want to be free from want, enlightened, with equanimity-

without ignorance/delusion/greed/suffering/attachments/craving/aversion

I want to set an example

I want to make the world a better place

I want to live, that is to say, live!

I want to be creative

live until you die is the only way to stay sane

doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is insanity

stay? (leave: it's all good?) taco, rover, junie, kaleb, poutine. Mountain mike's.

I don't want to leave Marlen, Julie and Sam (n Miette), Teresa, or $740.00 rent, in Bkly!

Wag, free food, gtu, kalx, campus library, local public libraries, gym, kp, ike's, family

____

also,

I made this list of Berkeley attributes/virtues, to compare/contrast Potland to-

-libraries (Cal, GTU, bpl, link+)

  albany, oakland, sfpl.  (Bkly has 4 branches, 1 central, and 1 tool library) 

  I could use the Cal library as a non-student if I have a research project...

-friends (roommates, dog owners), and family

-weather

-bkly free clinic (dental), MHA (mental health advocates, nearby)

-religious variety (shambala, cs, unitarian, holy hill, glide) 

Portland has Kaiser, and Wag!, and libraries, and restaurants, and religious variety, and parks (520 I'm told!), and wetter weather (not a problem for me), and museums, and gyms.. (and Reed)

In fact, I'm told it has "everything but family for $400/mo rent" -Sara

    i've never been there (yet)

if i don't go, Sara and Pierre will rent out the "in-law" unit, air bnb

I have to look into seeing if Oregon offers similar health insurance. 

My current wifi/utilities/rent package of $740-/mo is pretty good. 

   Hard to walk away from, actually.  Plus the weather.

SF has 52 museums, GG park, glen park;

bkly has tilden, ymca (with pool), GTU (a pleasant, relaxing place)

(bro)Greg and Liz, nephews ben and declan/mom n dad/cousins/aunt and uncle

msj (mission san jose, where i volunteer)

Sara, Pierre, and Augustus just returned from Portland.  They looked at a few properties, didn't make any offers, waiting for "the perfect house."  So it could be awhile.

Stephen Hawking

On God

Here's a quote:
"When people ask me if a god created the universe, I tell them that the question itself makes no sense.  Time didn't exist before the big bang, so there is no time for god to make the universe in.  It's like asking directions to the edge of the earth; the earth is a sphere; it doesn't have an edge; so looking for it is a futile exercise.  We are each free to believe what we want, and it's my view that the simplest explanation is; there is no god.  No one created our universe, and no one directs our fate.  This leads me to a profound realization; there is probably no heaven; and no afterlife, either.  We have this one life to appreciate the grand design of the universe; and for that I am extremely grateful."

I agree.

but
i have difficulty with the conception of time.
  (of course there was time before the big bang! just as there was space)
  (something for the 'spacetime' to expand in!)

we direct our own fates (largely) so in that sense we are our own gods.

there is an "afterlife", in the sense of our dna persisting in our children, and our art, quotes, books, influence, etc.

GD
grand design
grand designer
gunned down
good day
gandolf?
gigantic dunce!
general disarray

MIT

Moron Idiot Tard

universe-city

I.T. -information technology

(inform the nation, the planes are in formation)

(techin' all, oh gee), (teach without an A)

eye tea, something for another horror book by Stephen King

physics of soda- fizzics.

physics is plural- what is a physic?

mathematics- counting Matt's ticks

addition- tabulating the restaurant bill: add it on, a dish in

subtraction- submarine traction (the wheels on it, before it gets launched to sea)

multiply- eating fruit (being fruit-full)

and having sex (no birth control!) and making babies

divide- god (G-D) is the great divide, division is a military term

(for getting sliced in two by a sword?)

motion – drug dealer selling ecstasy (move e),

e-motion (the feeling after taking ecstasy)

the modus operandi of kicking someone in the shin

light- a particle that floats on a wave

thought from dizzy smart people- light-headed, bright

gravity- being very serious about the earth being flat

an angry small vampire (gr a v itty), or a victim that's just a little angry

spacetime- kevin spacey says “that is me!”; no, it's me, says Timmy.

or the right time to fill up some space, at a snail's pace

energy- a nerdy master of ceremonies (a square emcee)

maybe you can see why I didn't go there, lol

Stupid Smart

wicked good

stupid
delusion, confusion, ignorance, foolish, incurious
dense, dull, dopey, dolt, dumb, slow, simple, shallow, thick
idiot, moron, fool, imbecile, vacuous, vapid, obtuse
scatterbrained, weak-minded, feebleminded
blockhead, fathead, numbskull
ignant, retarded

smart
knowledgeable, wise, understanding, truthful, enlightened, omniscient
intelligent, sharp, brainy, bright, brilliant
thoughtful, discerning, shrewd, astute
questioning, curious, engaged
percipient, perceptive

Genie genius

Genius and Stupid Ignorant Fools

A genius can play a fool, but a fool can't a genius. I know, because I'm average, and sometimes a genius and other times a fool. A genie could make me a genius, and 2 other wishes, presumably, according to common knowledge, as we all know about genies somehow, of course. It's The Secret for kiddies. The universe rearranges to give you what you ask for, want, need, and imagine. Well, I ask for omniscience, endless wishes, and unending love-bliss. That should keep me happy.

What wishes do I anticipate asking (prior of course to the omniscience)? No nukes. Unless they're needed to repel an alien invasion, or omniscience informs me they'll never be used, because they really are an effective deterrent, in a MAD (mutually assured destruction) defense strategy. Time travel and eternal youth and immortality, so I won't have to spend eternity floating in space after the sun blows up, or getting more and more decrepit, so that I'm blind as a bat and have no teeth for the rest of eternity. Teleportation (another name for time travel) maybe could take me to distant planets, too, which might be fun. Especially if they're inhabited by fun aliens. And finally, morphing ability! I could experience what it's like to be any animal, vegetable, or mineral. I could be an amoeba or a brontosaurus, a fly or a blue whale, a killer bee or a parrot, a T Rex or a mosquito, a chihuahua or a great dane, anything, anything at all. I could live inside a construct in which everyone is what they want to be. Or just me. I could try different kinds of utopias, paradises, heavenly kingdoms, dreams, worlds, planets, universes.

That shit might get old. I could live countless lives as a mortal. I could raise families, work the whole gamut of gainful employment, struggle from day to day like everyone else. Nothing would be off limits. I could be a supervillain, or a kind and loving and compassionate and forgiving deity. I could be one one day, and the opposite another. I could play different roles, act, be different things, for ever and ever. I could sample having different bodies, different dna, different levels of athletic or combat ability. I could win every olympic event. I could be a devil. I could write the songs that make the whole world sing. I could read every book ever written. I could have an unlimited photographic memory. I could freeze time, and enter and exit the flow of time at will. I could use 100% of my brain, or live life to the fullest. I could be creative, and scientific, and imaginative. I could be vastly wealthy and on an intelligent regimen of drugs for the rest of my life, for the synthetic kind of bliss. Or I could follow the wisdom of all the world's religions, and find happiness in universal love, meditation, sex, endorphins, good nutrition, and things like music and movies. What's better? Being Bill Gates or having a lifetime supply of heroin? Waterskiing or lsd? Rock climbing or meth? Going to a standup comedy club or reading a kid's book. Do it all, I guess. Life is short. Or is life long. I don't actually know. Live every day as if it were your last, I've heard. But that might be a little crazy, if not criminal. So maybe just try and complete your bucket list in the 100 or so years you might have.

It might be fun to do nothing for a hundred years. Just veg and be a couch potato, watching tv, eating pizza, and sleeping a lot. To each his own. The perfect soldier, if you want to go all Hollywood.

I don't want to be aggravated and angry and irate and irritated and mad crazy insane hater, which is just the default mode of being possessed by the devil all the time, or just having him in your head, pushing your buttons. Calm tranquil bliss of enlightened equanimity and kind loving compassion of a happy buddha is a world of difference, where friendship and amity and comity and camaraderie and joy supplant the dukkha of pain agony suffering torment misery anguish despair, for a jolly old soul who's been through all that and learned the error of hatred rage wrath fury, and approaches oblivion with empathy and firm awareness of impermanence instead of ignorance and delusion and clinging. Got all that? A healthy aversion to danger and death is only natural, but no one lives forever. So don't worry, be happy. Be good, better, best. Loving, loved, in love. Happy, cheerful, positive, fun, funny, alive!

OR
Do what thou wilt?  Just be yourself.  Just be.  Or kill yourself.  It's up to you.  Why should I care?  It's your life.  (I actually think that would be tragic).  Do everything once?  Make as many mistakes as you can? lol.  That WOULD be a kind of approach to wisdom!  You only live once.  Do what you want.  Or not.  Do what I want!  Make a difference.  Mad.  Subtract.  mom and dad.  Be good!  Don't be bad.  Or, be bad!  Be deliciously evil!  Blow up the outside world.  Kill em all, let god sort em out.  Be all that you can be.  Don't be good.  How banal and trite and common.  Break all the rules.  Be a monster.  Be interesting.  Don't be boring.  And so on, and so forth, you get the idea.  There's a marketplace for ideas, shop and choose betweeen polarities and opposites, as you wish and will.  For the sake of argument, don't be blindly obedient, but weigh your options, and preserve your God-given FREEDOM to live as you wish, in the pursuit of happiness, even if happiness is a warm gun (so sang the beatles), and your freedom leads to incarceration, ignominy, and even capital punishment.  Or do nothing, nothing at all.  You might have noticed that committing crime doesn't automatically make you insane.  Criminal behavior is usually sane!  The law recognizes that life is hell.  Unless it's heaven.  Figure it out, make it so!

Tired

I am tired, so tired. Not exhausted physically, just done. Done with life. The blade runner soundtrack is on my headphones. It's raining. I'm, as they say, under the weather. I don't want to go anywhere, do anything, see anyone. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to meditate. I don't want to read. I just want to sit, and breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inspire, expire. Respire, perspire. I think I think too much. Half the time it's not even me thinking, it's my voice. It's draining. It's hell. Fuck you, I'm done.

associations

Hale and hearty, hail, ins, spire, spyer, res, pire, ire, prr.

Healthy, ice rain, immigration and naturalization service, insurance, church spire, espionage, reyes sacharoff, fire (for such as burning witches at the stake), ire and irritation and anger hatred rage wrath fury, cat (katy perry's cat! Kitty purry)

I don't have to go anywhere. The enemy is within. A constant struggle. Life sucks. Ugh.

So breathe, just breathe. What is that, Dead Milkmen? Yup, thankyou internet. Beige sunshine, off metaphysical graffiti. I know the other one, too. Anna Nalick, google says. Both good.

Br eat he (cold food man), or he as in he he, laughter. Cold food, hahaha. Like a sushi burrito.

Just me myself and I, at the computer, listening to youtube and tapping away, keeping company with my thoughts, words, associations, verbal deconstructions, echoes of musical memory, and of course whoever else might be in my head. For now, it seems like only me. Thanks for the moments of sanity, asshole. Headshocks, as my mind folds in on itself. My voice keeps saying 'I hate my mind'. It wants me to hate myself. There's apparently no barrier, so whatever nevermind. I don't want to think.

Kurt Cobain and Nirvana. Some stupid rap song thinks there's a triumvirate within. The holy trinity. Me, myself, and I, that is. Maybe that's the way out, the enlightened perspective.

Headshocks, chest pains, voice. Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Mouth, pussy, anus. Loving, loved, in love. CLU (3, 12, 21). Si, all you!

Good vs evil, evil vs good. Religion, politics. right vs left. It's all good vs. It's all bad. Sane, insane, unsane. God is good, and god is everywhere. Incorporating, integrating, amassing. Nothing evil. Neo.

Make reality you (big me big me ya, agent smith), or make you reality (incorporate, introversion, can't beat em join em, prayer-warrior). Change reality, change self. Both. Neither. It's all good.

God, reality, love.

change or adapt

scared and sacred

fear of god, fog of war

stimulus

bmw (books/mags/websites), ted (trivia/education/dating), bb ma sd (bodybuilding, martial arts, self-defense), my s (swim yoga meditate), video, my t (youtube, tv, movies), bmw (blog, money, write).

Rest, restaurants.

For the sake of argument (god never loses, evil never wins)

'there is some wicked evil sinful turpitude' says my (evil) voice (stfu, david)

i'm just a person, not a god. Maybe a part of god. But I don't even really believe...

however, goodness and love and reality exist, though, and that seems to be all god really ever is.

Death and pain and suffering and sorrow and regret are all a part of life/reality.

You shouldn't need the threat of hell to be good, in my opinion.

Hinduism, I've learned, considers atheism a path to God.

(God, godliness, holiness, enlightenment)

Catholic Mass

intellectually stimulating, but emotionally barren and zombie-like,

with simple and childish music, imo

Satanism could be a path to God, too.

Especially if “it's all good”, and “god is a man of war”

sads

Dominance and submission... equality

sing and dance, said and done

sick and diseased, sad and depressed,

schizo affective disorder, social anxiety disorder,

seasonal affective disorder, separation anxiety,

standard american diet

fats

fingers and toes, false and true, fit and trim, fido and taco

wwwww

wet wild windy woolly weather

question

is a photon wave an expanding orb? Does light “bounce” (say, off a wall)

Annihilation quotes (I read it yesterday), by Jeff VanderMeer

lots of self-alienation: neurological hitch-hikers, desolation tries to colonize you, self-immolating desire for truth, binding you with hypnotic suggestion, the world at war with itself, seeking oblivion, masks and veils and interferrence, nowhere and everywhere, knowing everything and nothing, unsettling sensation as of something creeping under the skin, modified human cells, doppelgangers, some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer for long enough, death- still here even if utterly transformed, narcissism of the human gaze, fear of god/hell/unending pain and sorrow, the end stages of some prolonged form of annihilation (as life itself!), rat- realizations, adjustments, transformations, hosts and assimilation, “i knew less than nothing about myself, whether that was a lie or the truth.” (!!)

the tunnel and lighthouse reminded me of “going deep” (honda) “stairway to heaven” (led zeppelin), the bright (adidam), christian symbology/metaphor (the way, truth, light), birth (coming into the light), self-immolation (buddhist monks), buffy hellmouth, star wars sand opening, cthulhu, a movie with an animated boar... plus some dreams I had.

I'm not really suicidal.  Never have been, hopefully never will be.  But I am a bit sick of myself.  Although I love myself, and consider the annoying part an external intrusion.  So it goes.