Think I've been haunted lately.  Out of the corner of my eyes, ordinary things look strange.  A fire-extinguisher on the wall in the gym looks like somebody standing there, leaning against the wall,  watching me.  It doesnt really bother me, though.

Perception is the key to reality.  One of the tenets of Bhuddism that the New Age'rs have picked up is something similar to this.  My brother is all New Age-y now, and forwarded me a link of a panoply of writings from a woman who channled a spirit named 'Seth', and had someone write everything said down.  Dreams and sleep have always fascinated me, and to read 'Seth's' explanation, amongst other things, was interesting, and like a smorgasborg of philosophy, I allow myself to entertain it from time to time.

'Seth's' position is that all of these dreams are, in fact, real.  In some different probability of reality they do exist, and these things happen.  Which is interesting, because it means a few weeks ago I ate a baby.  Delicous, that baby, very tender and juicy.  Well cooked.  But when I got to the bones, the little tiny bones, I gagged, and wanted to vomit.  I held it in, though.

The other notion that I have cherry picked and like to entertain from time to time is 'Seth's' notion of pets and animals.  He stated that we are all punctual expressions of one contiguous conciousness, meaning we are all one, and that your pet cat is simply conciousness chosing to express itself as cathood.  I like that very much.  I look at my kitty, Boo, from time to time, when I'm not jabbering at him nonsensically, and think of him as conciousness chosing to express itself as cathood.  And then I am very nice to him and show him extra amounts of love.  I think I should like to be a concious expression of cathood.  Or humanhood or whatever.  How excellent to be so well defined and innocent.

Still, out of the corners of my eyes, on the edge of my awarness of self and mind, things haunt me.  Macabre thoughts float through like tumbleweeds for no real reason, even as focused as I tend to believe I am nowadays.

Indeed.  Without illicit substances to take up my time, I get tons of things done now.  All I need is a filing cabinet and I will turn yet another corner.  I dont want to pay too much for a filing cabinet, though.  It is a tricky thing, this life, feeling the excasty of it all, bathing in the exquisite beauty, trying to make sure one doesnt pay too damn much for something.  Fuckers will rip you off left and right and drag you into the mundane.  And, of course, no salesman will ever listen to any argument as to the transitive nature of the physical anyway, and how all of this should be relatively free.

"Seriously, do you NOT see how all matter is simply on a journey from one place to another?"

"Listen, jerk off, either buy the filing cabinet or DONT.  Either way, do something or get the fuck out of my garage sale.  You're scaring the shit out of my kids."

Which would be the last thing I need.  No, no, I imagine a much more productive life and destiny, destination, for myself. 

Perhaps I should pay retail.  Retail tends to take the fun out of things, but I always get the feeling I am paying for convenience.

Still cant shake the haunted feeling.  Had the macabre tumbleweed thought as I walked into the garage how horrible it would be to find a bloody, dead, mutilated body laying there.  Yes, the impact itself would be horrible, but then I'd have to DEAL with it.  Phone calls to be made and, yes, EXPLANATIONS.  And I simply dont have time for that.  I can explain a whole lot, but a random body on your doorstep is not a situation that lends itself to eloquence.

Then I saw a strap hanging in the garage and thought of a noose.  Not in any specific way.  Just blandly.  Certainly not in regards to me, although it does remind me of the time my brother related to me that he'd fantasized about hanging himself in the garage so the 'rents would find him when they got home from going out on the weekend.  And he didnt say it overtly.  He was in tears at the time, I believe, and mentioned it in a negative sort of way.  Like, "Its NOT like I said I was going to hang myself in the garage for them to find me as they pulled in with the CAR..."

Which, in my mind, is an admission of guilt.  Most people just dont think things like that without some sort of prodding on someone's part.  That, also, would've been a tough one to explain, and jarring to see.  Thankfully, it never came to pass.  Because I never would have been privvy to the events of his lame-assed bachelor party.  Wow, did he lose his shit.

It was hilarious.  More on that later.  I still want to document the wedding as it happened, as it was.

For now, my mind tumbles with thoughts of songs and music.  And why exactly I feel this benign haunting more than usual.