|
My Heart Is Full
2007-11-02 - 1:39 a.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
My heart is so
full right now.
I just want to get to a place where I can explain it all to you.
So you know.
So, maybe you understand.
And maybe by understanding what I'm saying, and what I've gone through,
maybe you'll understand me.
Or, more likely, you'll understand a part of me. I like to
think I'm simple, but maybe I'm more complicated than I give myself
credit for.
(And I kind-of despise ending a sentence with a preposition, but
sometimes its unavoidable. You've gotta' capture your fucking
voice. Just hope and pray your voice isn't fucking annoying,
like a twenty-five year old girl from the Valley. If it is,
write fiction. Otherwise, cut out all the 'like's', and 'you
knows' and 'sorta's' and 'w/e's' unless you're intent on annoying the
fuck out of your audience or any casual passers by with half a brain.
Put another way: just because you're a princess and
think you're cute, doesn't mean that translates into good writing.
NOTE: I'm not speaking of anyone who would likely
ever read this....as far as I know. Stranger shit has
happened to me, and I swear to FUCK if I got abducted by aliens or had
a spontaneous out-of-body experience, it wouldn't surprise me.
Fuck no. I'd be fucking RELIEVED. All the fucking
douche-bag teachers, coaches, bosses, and malevolent wanna-be mentors
that tried to mold me into a useful cog, make me bow, scrape and serve
the ruling class, all the fucking BULLSHIT they tried to fill my head
with, all the ABJECT DENIAL OF MY CRITICAL THINKING SKILLS, [ed. note
accidental caps] would be INVALIDATED, and I would revel in the
absolute PROOF that they were THEN, NOW and IN THE FUTURE ALWAYS WILL
BE full of SHIT.
So, yank me aliens. Visit me spirits of the beyond.
Come meteor from the skies, wipe us out. Nuclear
holocaust us all. Its all a waste of effort and its all a
fucking pile of bullshit and bore.
Paris Hilton is revered as a modern-day deity, but, of the general
public, I would venture no one would know the name of the scientist who
privately funded and guided the project to sequence the human genome.
Even less would know the two scientists who discovered the
structure of DNA. Far fewer could name 3 philosophers of
existentialist thought. Fewer still know string theory, or
the philosophical implications of quantum physics and the theory of
infinite universes based on quantum probability.
Do you realize what that means? How fucking LARGE that is?
It tends to explain why we exist, seemingly alone in an infinitely
large and infinitely expanding universe, a universe that is, seemingly
coincidentally, absolutely suited perfectly for human life. Because we ceased to exist in
all the other quantum probabilities that led up to this particular one.
Eventually, on the quantum level, the probabilities panned out.
Which goes back to a theory I had put forth nearly fifteen years ago,
when asked by friends if I thought there was alien life 'In an infinite
universe, all probabilities approach a 1:1 value'. Meaning,
in an infinite punctual moment, everything is possible.
Everything. Do you understand? In some universe, in
some way, we live forever. Humanity exists forever.
In some other probability, there are aliens. Ghosts.
Just about everything. Humans.
And there is so much we dont know. And everything I learn
only succeeds in making me feel dumber and dumber, and I realize that
there is so, so much I do not understand.
I no longer feel sheepish telling someone I dont understand something
they're trying to explain to me. How the fuck else am I going
to understand something in the least possible amount of time?!?
I have so much else I need to understand. Being
sheepish or proud gets me no closer to that goal. A goal I
will never achieve.
A sometimes friend once said to me in college "Argentum, you're a lost
cause"
I looked at him and said, "What nobler cause is there?"
I wasn't referring to myself. If you can make a stand on
principle, even making a stand in the midst of quicksand, for a battle
you know you will lose, are you not then the most principled of souls?
Also please remember that time, the physical, and distance is only a
vehicle to accommodate our minds in this punctual probability.
At night I have soared to places unseen and unwritten about.
Different worlds, different probabilities.
The ancient Chinese Taoist philosopher Chang Tsu wrote:
Once Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting
and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He
didn't know he was Zhuangzi. Suddenly he woke up and there he was,
solid and unmistakable Zhuangzi. But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi
who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was
Zhuangzi. Between Zhuangzi and a butterfly there must be some
distinction! This is called the Transformation of Things. (2, tr.
Burton Watson 1968:49)
How can you
prove what is real and what is a dream? What is real, but the
mind? Is he a man dreaming he is a butterfly or a butterfly
dreaming he is a man? How do you know? How can you
prove it?
In these places Ive gone, there is no distance, other than the distance
between hearts. There is no time, no physical. Both
are transient and fading. Ultimately insubstantial.
Look at the items around you. Will they exist in a
thousand years? A million? No. They will
disintegrate and be no more as energy transforms into matter and back
again.
But as always my mind, my soul wanders. I would like to
return my energy to existence, lose my ID, EGO, and SUPEREGO.
Lose it all and become one with the Universe, my energy
returning to the create and know no want or desire for eternity in a
Nirvana of bliss. I lack the will to meditate enough to bring
me this peace, and as such, my mind will roam, and my body will stir
against is frail limits.
I'm tired of suffering. And I see the degradation of all
around me. The degradation of minds and hearts. The
lies that spill forth from the machine assembled by our leadership,
those darkly amoral rulers we have that exploit us as they will, never
sating their desire for control, wealth and power. It hurts
in ways my flesh does not, as I feel I rant and rail against the bars
of my cage, but no one hears me. No one understands.
It doesn't have to be like this for any of us. The monkeysphere
doesn't have to be 150 people.
The only way to win is to love. Compassion.
Communion.
Against that, nothing can stand. And only our fear holds us
back. It holds us back from self-determination, from
happiness, from Nirvana of the heart and mind. It holds us
back from everything we can be as an individual and Society, and this
is what they prey upon to keep us apart. If we loved each
other as we love our family, there would be no war. There
would be no famine, crime, or slavery. There would only be
us, and we would find our endless fascination within ourselves and
each-other. There will be plenty to eat, shelter and clothing
for all. They prey on our fear to keep us separate and alone,
to keep us at each other's throats, like starved rats that fight
each-other for the crumbs, convinced everyone else is out to take them
down.
I will love you if you love me. And I won't curse at you if
you drive slowly in front of me, because everyone can be in your
monkeysphere if you let them. If you have the heart and
courage.
I love you already and you don't know it. You may never know
it, because you don't understand. You are blinded, deep
within the Cave, and that's the way they like it, mesmerized by their
shadow puppets on the wall, shadows of Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton.
)
My heart is full.
I want to explain so much of what has happened and is happening, and
will be happening, but I am not in a place to do that right now.
Maybe I am, I don't know. Regardless if I spill the contents
of heart right now, or in a few months, i will.
I will. And I hope that it will bring me a measure of peace.
Sadly, it will not bring me the peace I seek. I see
that now. Almost nothing will, not even merciful death.
I need to meditate more, and let peace overtake me.
Let it happen.
Sometime I will explain everything.
I am ok now.
To quote Kurt Vonnegut: Word of honor.
I am ok.
<3 <3 <3
|
