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Tuesday, 29 January 2013

A lonely Walk



A man without a sense of direction wanders aimlessly into the face of the judgmental city as they busily hurried along their business to return home to their sweet sanctuary after a long day of work. The sun has completely lost into the abyss of the night as darkness leaves the city lights blinding the citizen from the beauty and wonders of the starry skies. The veins of the streets are pouring with reds lights like a sea of slow paced vehicles. The wind stand still as the weather decide to take a day off from its usual downpour. This aimless man stares at it all in awe and disgust at the uselessness of it all. This man believe not in fate or destiny, he believes not in the administrative power of global economics, he believe not in the system of faith or any sorts of man-made desires, he only believe in the dynamics of purely random probabilities of the universe.

The smooth symphony of flapping plastic bags that floats with the gentle wind echoed into the dark park singing the secrets of the night.


My brain went dead. No functional synapses available to process anything new that is given to me. I was not at all here.The fuzzy dreams I had from my afternoon's nap have left me in a dazed and confused state of mind that perfectly emphasized by the lingering effects of the magical herbs which I had recently inhaled. If I was to ask to talk to you now on subjects of the empty conversational small talks  I would be dumb at the sound of your voice. Nevertheless my brain is uniquely programmed to be absent minded in my present environments but always busy with countless activities that is yet somehow unforeseen by my conscious thoughts. In the world, the bizarre irrational and illogical world of sub-conscious there is a whole fairytale yet to be told. Honestly I am just too lazy to write it all down for I rather live them all in my head. Over and over again. Like a good old film that you never get tired of watching.



Laziness is the barrier of all great men and it is every mortal worst enemy. One day I would learn to overcome this but that day is not today. Due to the lack of conscious activity in my mind this entry on my journey is a boring and which kind of entry with no regards to convey any message or to bewildered your minds with beautiful rheumatic usage of common words. IF you somehow reading this then forgive me for wasting your time. Right now I cant think of anything in particular but yet everything that I ever did in precise details and the consequences of that action has a rippling effects on the collateral acquaintances of my social life. I often wondered why people would stare at me and now I realized that they are not used to a person who is free from their little world of money and mundane life. They stare at me for I have understand the little ripples of history and had removed myself from the equation but yet still manages to contribute in their daily life even in the tiniest way possible. Or maybe they stare at me because I don't dress they way they want me to. Or maybe they stare at me because I am always so stoned. Sometimes I wonder if I'm even alive to begin with, whether we at all have any freewill. And other times I feel like we are all dreaming all the time.



 I am not like you. I am what you would call as mentally ill. It has nothing to do with drug abuse or alcohol overdose, no it all began before I did any of these activities. I am plague by audio and visual hallucinations which I know for a fact aren't real or possible in this know reality. Call it memories of previous life but there are times where I could recall memories of a future life, call it premonitions. I do not belief in such superstitions. Then you might call it dreams or vivid wild imaginations for it randomly pops into my mind during my waking life but how about me falling asleep and waking up in a different reality of a life then returning to my present life three days later. A reality such as my ex-lover was still mine or a reality where I am not even on earth but space-bound. According to my family and friends that three days I was living a normal life like how I would behave but I have no conscious memory of it. Does this mean my conscious mind was drown in dreams and imagination while my subconscious mind controls my physical daily life?


Still this doesn't explain the countless voices I keep hearing that supposedly from another reality and those visual hallucinations casually enters the fragment of my eyes. Are all these different lives and memories are just my imagination? Then why are they so real? You might think I am crazy. You might think I am lying for it is easier to dismiss my claims and return to your life than believing in such stories which is almost impossible for me to explain with such a weak validity. I believe I am traveling through space time continuum using my brainwaves conscious frequency to jump parallel realities. Mad idea, i know but it feel a lot better than saying I am a Schizophrenic nutcase that should be locked up in a mental institution. I don't blame you for not believing but don't judge me is all I can say. When I doze off and almost ignoring your presence understand that my perception is obscure by my predicaments. Maybe what I remember and seeing is true. Maybe its just the fragmentary visions of my imaginations. Or maybe I am just too big of a dreamer.


Maybe it is all just a dream. But I am constantly haunted and tormented by how vivid it is and how vague this reality has become. I fear not knowing which reality I would wake up into and I fear I might just get stuck in a place I rather not be. It ruin my previous relationship with a girl I dearly loved. I kept fearing to wake up from a sleep thinking that she was all but a dream. I kept having deeper hallucinations of another reality and stuck there for a long period. I fear when I return she would be gone and she did.... My paranoia on things gotten way out of hand, it resulted in chasing her away. Told her that my conditions were getting better and I managed to controlled it but the truth was always on the contrary. Funny how that was nearly two years ago but yet things haven't changed. I could never fall in love with a girl for fearing to hurt her in the same way. I fear of falling in love for I fear it could all be a dream. This is why I smoke the cannabis, it helps me stray away from these visions of paranoia and keep me calm but at time i do smoke a little too much. This situation of mine had ruined my job life for I have a hard time perceiving time in the concept of human life.


I have become a traveler of time, space and reality due to this condition. I have become crazy and unsteady. I have no grip on the sense of anything anymore. So why do I still write? Why do I still do anything anymore? I dont know. I just hope in the reality of my voice is heard because the saddest thing is that I cant prove anything. I write because its the only way I know I exist. Its a piece of my mind of moment that would soon be lost in time. I am ever changing. I am impermanence. I am nobody. This physical body of mind is continuously changing every single cell everyday and in seven years I am a new person. My mind is too changing as I grow more mature with time and experience of life. I am not who I was yesterday and will never be the same tomorrow. Thus my writings are the only constant in my life. This is why I write.


It is not easy for me to convince you that I am not crazy and that everything I am hallucinating is nothing more than the leak of parallel universes for these theory is based upon the unprovable hypothesis of String Vibration in the tiniest quantum particles of the universe. In order to really show you what I see, I have to calculate the equations which most scientist are still figuring out even if they somehow manages to calculate it. There is still a question of how and why do I see these parallel universes and you don't. Why? Perhaps it is easier for me to accept that I am mental and just a lucid dreamer so I could easily be accepted into your world. But I have never like your world anyways. Maybe that is the reason why I indulge myself with these crazy thoughts. Maybe I am just some guy who cant accept and live in your harsh cold world or maybe your world is delusional and cant accept the truth of mother earth Gaia. Maybe.


Reality and Truth is a matter of perception. That being said, it is impossible to call anyone mad for in their eyes, in their reality you are mad. Truth is we are all mad and we refuse to believe it. That is the only constant reality and the only constant truth. We are all mad with different ideas of delusions. Mine just more intricately planned with aesthetic beauty. This is what I realize with my lonely walk in the park at night staring at the stars..

Monday, 28 January 2013

The Kill



I feel a surge of adrenaline sprung from the back of my mind and down my spinal cord radiating a warm waves that connects back to my arm causing the next actions possible. This warm feeling of anger and hate or any other suppress thoughts flooded out in an addictive rush of none filtration of the human conscious mind. This is why they do it. It is not just the feeling of a triumph over a perfectly executed plan, its the warm flowing bloods of your victim. No it is the warmth. The warmth of turning a haunting fantasy of the mind into a reality of pure pleasurable moment. That is why we kill. That is why I kill. I could feel it now. A momentary bliss of inter-dimensional awareness of each details of your surrounding environment. It is the closest any human being able to truly understand the meaning of Life and Death.


The puddle of blood in the mashed up porridge of bones and flesh where the face used to be. The irritating face of sick boils, Oh i see your face no more. I see your eyes no more, Those Judgmental eyes that you so often focus upon this innocent creature that is tortured by your glaring pressure of your ideology of a perfect human society. No more eyes for you to judge my dear friend. Your lips bruised and torn like a tissue in the rotting sewers. Your lips will speak no more, I hear your words no more. No more lies of your fear-fueled medias that so often whisper the intoxicating songs of the ignorance. No more of those. I stare at the filth on the floor and into the deep red sea of nature. Into the blood, I stare and from the blood, I understand. I understand the power that drives my actions. Its the nature of our blood hunger past. We crave blood more that other animals. Worse than the Vampires, Men has become.


 

I Hate It Here



Do you want to know who I am?

Do you really want to know what you have done?

Do you really want to know the truth of my predicaments?



Who am I? I am the product of our civilization. I am the outcome of generations of bad decision and poor luck. I am the children of your broken dreams. I am the victim of your greed. I am fucked up. I could hear my poor old mother weeping on the phone with my tired but strong sister. Why is she weeping? She is a recovering ex-junkie who has a lying cheating husband who play mind games that is pushing her suicidal tendency to a critical point. Drunk !@#$%^&* who is beating up a suicidal junkie when her spirit is broken. What an amazing example to teach my poor !@#$%^&* of a brother, barely old enough to even understand the difference between superman and god. A seven years old boy's night is not filled with bedtime stories but rather the tears and shouting of his fucked up parents.



No surprise though from a heritage such as mine. From the father side, here is a struggling family out of the racism regime who broken home they build. A sweet lovely grandmother alone and sick in an old folks home, lost contact with her own daughter due to petty arguments, a son lost in the eastern lands due to denial of his roots, a rich successful youngest son who is too busy for a friendly visit. Oh how her late husband could see them now, his struggle and sacrifice in the war from not only the bullets of his enemies but the scorn of society against their beautiful affair of cross-traditional marriage. He would cry to see his wife alone and loveless. Poor way for an old soul to die. !@#$%^&* had it easy in comparison to my mother's side. Here is a family who past would make soap opera drama and tragedy sonnets look like a child's stuffed puppet show. A sixty years old woman working minimum wage for a big !@#$%^&* super rich company that puts in oil in your car for high price but pay their workers to the lowest cost. She works tirelessly for that oil  so she could feed that lazy !@#$%^&* step grandfather of mine and feeding all her useless kids who is even thought married but yet cant even pay for that fucking cigarettes they burning their lungs with. Useless little cunts getting fucked up and knocked up before even the age of 16 and forced into marriage because this fucking country scorns at the idea of an abortion but yet find prom night dumpster babies to be unresolvable problem.



Fucking relatives just waiting for my sweet grandmother to rest in the grave so they could inherit whatever !@#$%^&* left in her accounts. This is the reason why I dont like family gatherings. Fucking cannibalistic family tree.



My sister. My darling strong female. You sacrifice your dreams for us all. You hold this fucked up house together with your ear of tolerance to our bullshit. The spirit of the great queens of Africa ships brightly in your decisive mature decisions. Like a mother sheltering her young in the war. You are Nefertiti with your commanding voice but yet you whisper the words of Cleopatra to have your ways, you are ever so caring like Mother Theresa. And though you may have lost your minds with your delusions of haunting spirits but like the Joan of Arc, you continue your fight. You are the embodiments of the spirit Gaia. I always love you. Your suffering as these vermin rob you of your youth and innocence. I swear to you my sister, my brother one day these Babylonian systems shall burn to the ground and we shall all be free in the land of Promise. One day you will never need to hide your pains anymore, one day a man will hold you and protect you with his love and give you the proper attention and affection that you deserved. One day you will kiss a man who will love you more than i could ever give.


My brother. My poor brother. You are so young. The future is yours. How unfortunate you are to be living in the height of these invisible jail of our minds. Our ghetto, our trench-town is being more and more dangerous.I will do anything to ensure that the Lion of Judah would roar loudly for you and your generation. A Rastafarian life is tough but you will not have to face it alone. I will always be here to ensure a spliff is yours to spare. They rob us in this Book of Life but remember it was written that we shall prevail. We are now slaves of poverty chained onto the debts of man-made monetary economy. But exalt yourself and catch the fire to keep you warm for my arms will always be yours to hold. You are my future. You are the reason why i keep fighting. You are the source of the flame that will burn Babylon. Mon Petit Frère. From the first time I hold your tiny fragile little fingers, the very first time I saw your small scared eyes spying through your little eyelids to see mine,  I knew you would be the death of me. I knew i would die for you. You are everything I cannot achieve. You will be stronger and far superior that I would ever be. 13 years apart we are, its like having my own little son that is my brother. You will change the world in ways that I have yet to imagine. But in order for you to do that I have to be strong and help you to survive and break down the defenses of our enemies. 


We are Soul Jah. We are in the Jah Army. No more troubles, no more wars and No more Confrontations. We want peace. You shall have a new world of joy to play on. We are the troops of freedom. Every single one of us who is against the immoral system of greed from the corporate monetary agendas and materialistic propaganda that poisons the minds of millions through their controlled medias and fear mongering through the corrupted religious belief that tries to save your soul that is never lost in the first place. It is in you that the kingdom of heaven is found, your soul have no Original Sin for curiosity and knowledge is the path to enlightenment and not the blind faith that they preached. We are part of this universe. We are one with the forces of nature. We are Jah. But we too are the Devil. The universe is constant balance of the Ying and Yang. It isnt about taking sides but respecting the importance of both criteria. We can find harmony in this. You my young brother shall restore the equilibrium of mankind with the earth and the universe. Your generation have to. You are our last hope. Our father may have given up on the dreams of the sixties but we shall not. My generation have to rise up to ensure that yours will paved a new road for mankind. They have lost the importance of us but we shall not forget yours.    



If I die to see you become a great and honest man I would have succeed my purpose in life. Even as young as you are, you always have faith in me even if have not in myself. I will always be there for you. Sabali. Patience. That is all I can do right now. I cannot rush and make the same mistake like the generations before, My generations maybe blinded by these medians of brian dead content but I believe in a higher power, the higher power of Human Spirit. I believe in Jah. I believe the truth will overpower the lies. The world is too fucked up but I will count my blessing. We are the true hustlers, we are the real swaggers. It is not the clothes that you wear or the style that you talk but how you struggle from every sweat on your backs to gain some recognition and a better life. That is hustling and swag is the style of how tiring it is to hustle but yet we keep it cool and always have a smile on our face. That is hustle and that is swag. Not these fakers. But i guess there are better terms we could always use such as the Working Class Heroes. Its not too late for a change.

 
We will realise that the most important things is not this petty little arguements and useless conflicts of green pieces of paper which will never do us any good. If we are to change we need to broden our minds. Focus on the real peaceful teachings of the prophets. Then Buddha shall smile again, Jesus will not die in vain, Moses effort wont be useless, Mohammad will be remembered and Abraham can smile again. It is not what sets us apart but what holds us together. Love. Love is all that they preach. We will not argue over useless disagreement who can we love. We will love everyone once again. Love and Peace. That is the most important thing. Science and Art will be respected at their highest status again. We will feed all the mouths in the world without killing our planet Gaia. We shall not pollute and restore our everlasting energy in a safe method. We shall conquer the stars. I hope.



My tragic past and present maybe shocking to some but by any standard this is a common life on this society across the globe. Some life is easier and some life is harder. Either way we are all fu.cked up. As long as the rich are getting richer and the poor getting poorer, this is the only result of life that will come out. A dysfunctional family trying to hold on. A dad drinking his mistakes away from the debts of his credit cards, A mother losing affection of her husband turning to hard drugs for a sense of alive, a student sister trying to hold the family together, a baby brother oblivious but in danger and a suicidal boy knowing it all and hating it all before he even begins. This is the life that they have caused. This is the life that you had caused. Money and Greed. Power and Corruption. Violence in the media. Fear in the Church. No love can be found in this system. No morality could be drawn from their agenda. Only pain. 



We should stop blaming one another and help to fix this species. Before we help other animals it is time we help our own human beings. If not for ourselves, then for our brothers, for our sisters, for our sons and daughters, our future grandchildren. For them. This world doesnt belong to the old but rather the young. This earth is was never made for us, we are made from this earth. Let us ensure that we could survive. Let us ensure that the youth of tomorrow wont have to utter the words : I hate it here.
   

 So who am i?
I am the voice of your child.
The Voice of your mistake.
The voice of hope.
The voice of the future...



Thursday, 24 January 2013

Living In Lucidity


Time is an illusion. Its a matter of a conscious mind making sense of things. When we look into the quantum world of the tiniest particles in the atomic structure of the universe we find things to be very different from what we would normally perceive as normal. A quantum particle can be everywhere and nowhere at the same instance, only when the researcher tries to collect the data then we would find the particle to be in a fixed spot, thus it is only relative to the a person point of view. Time is relative. Time is an illusion. If you do wish to use the standard understanding of time in its dissipating nature of Planck cycles then the present for me now is the mid-January of 2013. As the winters began to slowly fade in the northern hemisphere and the heat of the southern hemisphere starts to restlessly sway to balance the temperature of the planet, i sit here in the equator wondering and reflecting on my journey.


With the sound of Dub Fx in my headphone, i feel in peace with my life though this isn't where i planned to be or where i wish my life is heading to but it is where i need to be. From a year long of weed smoking, heartbreak recovering, starving artist of a bohemian tragedy, directionless journey of expanding the mind and venturing into the unknown depths of scientific equations of a spiritual sort, i have to say it wasn't a bad year. But this year its different i have to learn to control. I have to learn to cage my inner wild horse and free-bird for just a year to collect proper amount of cash so i can start doing what i wanted to do. Backpacking, Hitchhiking, Gypsy living, Running Free. Just a year of torture that's all that i need to do. After all what is a year anyway if time is just an illusion? Beside I got something else to explore this year when I'm caged up. Throughout the entire year of 2012, i have been understanding the possibility of parallel universes using the understanding of string theory plus the research i have made into the electrical components of our brain in its waves of complexity with the help of Aldous Huxley i have learned that one's mind can be easily amended to a different state of consciousness. Now i know one would find it mad to even think that we could jump from one plane of reality into the next parallel universe using the perception altering drugs but i beg the differ.


Soundtrack if you like one : Dub Fx - In my Head

Maybe i have dwell too much in my own madness of my unstable mental health or maybe its real, i cannot be sure anymore. Maybe i am no longer in the same reality as i was before, maybe i am still. Maybe I am really going mad but whatever the reason is, nothing is the same for me anymore. I do not see the world as how i did. I do not understand the logic of time for i have seen my past, my present state and every possible future of my decisions in a single instance. In every single moment of my waking life. And every night i have harder time distinguishing my dreams and reality. It is not because my dreams are as boring as my waking life, no it is much much more beautiful. But my dreams have become so comfortable and lovely that i have began to detest and reject the waking world. Even as i arise from my sleep I do not see a strict line between dreams and reality, it is getting blur for i began to see my dreams in reality and my reality have become my dreams. Maybe i should visit the psychologist but that's the problem isn't it? I have done to many research papers for the psycho-analytic students that i could easily understand what is their perception of my condition and my fucked up mind uses these information and knowledge to f.u.c.ked up my mind up even more. Oh my dear Carl Sagan, i have dive into madness searching for a truth. Science have only confirmed that my madness is legitimately plausible, that i could have been traveling through parallel universes but how can i prove it? How can you prove the unprovable string theory?


Maybe its no longer a matter of evidence but belief. Huh funny how religious i sound talking about a scientific theory. But Science and religion should have never been separated. It is the two side of the same coin. Whatever you wish to belief, i do not deny you the pleasure of the comfort but i shall tell you what i have experience. Call me crazy or call me imagineer, I cannot care less. The first time I figured out how to really jump realities was using the aid of marijuana but that was to simple. It was a reality completely the same with slight difference in the perception of time. I think they called that feeling : Stoned. Then i jumped up the drugs to vision inducing hallucinations of LSD, like i needed another hallucination said my brain. But the real proper jump i made from one parallel universe to the next was on 21 December 2012. Say what you want. Say what you belief. World Ending, World shifting its paradigm. I jumped on that fateful day with a simple meditation. Not even a long one too like those monks but a simple quite peace of mind without any thoughts or any help of drugs. I sat on the comfort of my old sofa stroking a puffy ginger cat, thinking of nothing and becoming nobody.


Empty. Silence. The image of the flower of life sparked in my mind.


A sharp electrical twitch in the joints of my fingers that quickly spread down the back of my hand and vortex-ing around my wrist and up to the elbow and shoulder blades before consuming my entire body with the warmth of the twitches. The warmth soon turned to heat which is then is buried by the cool air of my surrounding and restoring comfort. The coldness becomes unbearable as my body shivers to the bones which in turn sparked a sharp electrical twitch. This cycles continues in a loop.

  Meanwhile my sight of my present state was too altering in a unique fashion. The image collected from the both sides of my eyes separated itself and goes unbalance, tipping on the tip of my nose give a fish-like vision of a curved visual. Its like a single picture being stretched into a dangerous breaking point of flexibility. This curvature of reality restores its balance before focusing away from my nose and zooming into the distance and into a perspective of an outer body dimension. The visual that I was witnessing was in an amazing splendor of colors which were distorted the original and enhanced by a psychedelic mad scientist. This dimensions of visuals is then stretched and chopped into multi-visual beauty before turning into a spiral motion. Honestly its hardest to describe the visuals that i saw. I can just sum it up in one word : Beautiful.


On another note, my ears was in tune to every single sound to my surroundings. I was able to focus to any single source from the purring of the fat cat on my lap to the flapping wings of the ravens outside but often my hearings in the distant standpoint of things. Not even from my ears but from a wide shot view of everything. It often goes with the visual perception of my transition, like a perfect soundtrack to a movie scene. The sounds all jumbled up like a Pink Floyd album being played from the hands of Ravi Shankar and the voice of Bob Marley but remixed and dubbed by DUB FX. A crazy symphony of voices of influential people and perhaps even notes to buy the cat food just mixed up in a perfect harmony of distortions. The loudest sound you will ever hear is the beat of your heart and the electrical twitches of your brain synapses. 



The transition of one reality to another is like having your consciousness being melted into a liquid state and having it flowing and dripping out of a tiny water pipe into a puddle of a new universe with new frequency of consciousness.  A slow but steady realization of your new surrounding which was so odd before has now become a familiar setting. Your mind has gone through a tine tube that has puncture two parallel universe together like a wormhole for your consciousness. A quick almost impossible according to what you have known but nevertheless it is the only explanation why you feel like this. Why i feel like this. This is the best and only reasonable explanation that my tiny little neuron's sparks could conjure. That is what i felt like. That is how i feel like. Listen to your thoughts said my thoughts. Then you would realize how you have punctured reality into a new world which is the single greatest thing you had ever done and perhaps the first to ever do so but i doubt it. It feels like Neil Armstrong stepping on the moon but on a completely different universe.


But how can i know i am not just still in my own universe and my own reality? Maybe because one minute i was stroking a fat cat and the next I was in a van.


soundtrack if you want....i am obsessed with DUB FX right now...

The scent of the magical green herb sway gently upon the tumbling waves of smokes that filled the old compact van. As the orange tinder sparks in the tiny pipe and at the end of the joint dances to the tunes of the Rasta vibration. The van itself occupied with seven individuals with amazing background stories and eccentric personalities of their own uniqueness. But my eyes, my red bloodshot teary eyes which has just found its comfort in this new surrounding could only stare at one soul who shines like an angel of a lighthouse in a dark night attracting the attention of this lost ship. She was perfect from the moment she steps into my memory down from the rusty old van of illusion, barefooted onto the harsh hot pavement of the industrialized city that have become my constricting reality. Her face glows brighter than the tropical sun that is piercing through the wet heavy monsoon clouds. Her simpleness is her most exotic value of her personality. She dressed in a flower child manner of the long forgotten Woodstock dream of the sixties with her gypsy tales of adventure. She is true beauty of a woman and nothing in comparison to the war-paint girls in the criticizing beauty magazines. Her name was the sound of my beating heart. Her features were genuine and her smile was uplifting. She told me stories of her travels and though she could barely understand me and I could barely comprehend her weak English, there was moments of connectivity with stolen glimpse and Marley's rhymes.


She is the nymph of gypsies. Wandering in and out of my mind. Oh what fate lies in the future is none of my authority to speculate but yet she smiles carelessly. Keeping her arms wide open to embrace the challenges ahead. Her naked feet enjoys the touch of mother earth's skin, whether its the wet mud of the village hills or the hot harsh pavement of an endless road. I can hear the bells chiming its tune to the beat of the dance as she sways her body to the sound of the rhythm. The bells that wrap loosely on her ankle adorns her delicate beauty. Though barefooted on the wet ground her steps are ever more ferocious in delivering each and every steps with accurate sharp postures of a strong spirit but yet in the smoothest transition. She dances like a nymph in power of the fire that is before her and slither with the waves of the green smokes. Her loose tight brown hemp-made pants emphasize her body movements. The velvet cloth that wraps around her neck slither around her bare arms and floats with the wind, leaving her seductive curves in the prying eyes of her spectators. The piercing on her perfectly fit belly sneak under her small white singlet giving a pleasurable guilt. Her first breast was and is too juicy to describe in mere words. Oh how i love to have loved her...Unfortunately this is all nothing but a memory of my past. The last happy memory I had.

She gave me a reason to live in my miserable life and showed me a way to living free from this society prison of the materialistic city. She shed a light unto a life free from the monetary system of greedy injustice. She show me Gaia. No wonder I keep jumping into that memory. That was the closest I have even been to someone who is truly free. Or at least my memory and perception of her that of a girl who is bathing in total freedom but no matter what her true predicaments are in this plane of reality. I know i shall always jump back into that moment to find a peace of mind. Perhaps that memory is strongest for another reason. That memory was the last time I ever saw my mentor smiling next to me. Oh how I have fucked things up in my life. Now with this new understanding of realities and with the ability of jumping in and out of memories and realities with or without substances isn't exactly a great achievement for me. It is no doubt an amazing lucidity trip that is beyond any kind of drug abuse that i have ever experience. I mean its like time traveling, its like walking in the cupboard and stepping out into Narnia. Just imagine how amazing that must have felt for anyone, one minute you're outside your house trying to stop it from getting bulldoze and the next minute you are hitchhiking across the galaxy in your bathrobes using a towel as your main defense. Its bloody epic that feeling of jumping realities but its no good for my social life, work life and... fu.ck it..its not good at all for my present life in this reality.


Something dark to explain myself

I mean i am already mad with my mental condition but now i could do this? F U C K, i am going insane but the Quantum Theory of the Universe with its string theory and parallel universe states the contrary.  Let me explain my condition. Perhaps you might understand a bit more of what I am writing about. Let me explain the inner workings of my brain and the tremendous chemical imbalance that has impacted my perspective of reality, thus altering my consciousness.  Let me explain to you my mental illness.



A brain is a complex infrastructure of chemical secretion and electrical impulses of networking neurons. The entire connections of your brain sparking neurons are what your consciousness made of. Every tiny details of your delicate organ is the composition of your awareness, thus the composition of yourself. You are that tiny spark, your spirit or soul or consciousness is nothing more than that tiny spark. In addition, your brain effects your entire body since it is the command center. That is why mother nature has protected this most delicate, unique and beautiful evolutionary masterpiece with a hard tough skull or cranium. A protective shield for this fine work of natural artistic expression. There is no good or bad side of the brain, none is complete without the other. Though we could live with one side of the brain but our entire understanding and personality with be drastically altered. Thus it takes the entire brain to make what you are, that is why the world is not split into two good and evil but rather a blurry gray patch of both world. Because in every single one of us there is a cognitive dissonance of opposing idea. This is the way of the universe, a competitive struggle between two sides of the coin which one could not exist without the other, this is the balance of the yin and yang, of matter and anti-matter. Now with that understood any slightest defects can substantially manipulate your mind in a drastic measure.



It is possible that every individual has its own unique chemical balances of their brain with their own unique frequency of brainwaves but unlike a fingerprint which doesn't do jack s.h.it  to your personality, the uniqueness of the brain composition creates the various amount of personalities in this world. That is why no two individual is alike, not even identical twins are the same. Thus if a part of your brain is behaving in a rather unusual manner then your entire perspective and personality will not be the same again but you wouldn't even know anything about it, you wont see any difference in how you would normally behave. To you everything about your new world and your new manner seems the familiar but you are not. Of course there is no basic guidelines telling you whether you are sane of not but there is a proper understanding of a healthy brain. But then how would anyone know whether they are in a healthy brain since the symptoms are hard to realize? How can you really tell whether you are insane? True it is very difficult for anyone to tell us if were are mentally ill or not and even if they do tell us would we believe them? Are you sure they are not insane telling you that you are insane? Of course when you finally realize you are insane it would be a bit too late for recovery. That is why understanding science is so important to me. Science is the poetry of reality, it is beautiful if you really understand it. True it might destroy many of believes and fairytale but you would feel relief to be awaken to a whole new world full of immense probability that would make angels look like a little butterfly in a garden filled with tea drinking unicorns.


Frightened at first of course. I mean everything I ever thought the world was and every belief I had which i have invested my whole soul into was nothing more than a fake scam of my mind. But then you realize its okay, i know i was mad but now i can change with the new understanding of reality I could separate the hallucination from what is real. I could enjoy it all, life is much more beautiful once you know the truth but wait maybe this is madness, the belief you had once was the truth and this new acceptance of reality is the mad one. Maybe you are just guilty. You feel undeserving of this new perspective to understand that you are actually mad, I mean there was a heavy burden lifted from you to know that the visions you seeing are just in your head and not real but a bigger burden is then placed on you. The question is why? Why is the sane, the insane, the logical and the irrational are living side by side in your brain. You tried to find and equilibrium, you try to find a balance and began to accept both worlds. Like Buddha said, the middle way of understanding is the only way that the sitar's string will vibrate the tune of life. Too loose it will be too sloppy to make a sound of logical statement, to tight then the string will snap from the spiritual aspect and live a life of a square. But again I'm sure we all felt this before or maybe only me, i am not too sure. Maybe we are all mad. Maybe you don't understand a single word i am saying.


Maybe this part might help clear that confusion. Like stated earlier, every single chemical secretion in your brain impacts your consciousness and personality. When the chemicals are tampered by medications of any sort it would change for a temporary moment depending on the dosage. From the tiny caffeine rush of a coffee or when you are completely drunk from alcohol consumption, whether you are high, stoned or trippin balls son! That crazy as.s sh.it acid got your inner Chakra of your brain's chemical running Helther Skelter till you be hallucinating a biatch name Lucy flying in the sky with Diamonds. Now all these altering consciousness stimulants do magical wonders to put your mind int the state of clinical madness but their effects are often for a limited time only. And thought you might never view the world again after trying your first LSD or DMT or any kind of drugs but you are not mad. (YET)


 So why do i conclude i am mad? Maybe i am just a super druggie junkie journalist in an open top Chevy making my way to Vegas with fear and loathing on my mind? Well for a starter seeing visions of a fuc-king purple dinosaur singing his pedophile theme song every time i took the bus back from high school way back before I even touched drugs was a pretty convincing argument. That terrified me a lot. Bloody Barney and his freaky dicky purpleness...Maybe I had been hallucinating these visions since I was born but I didn't notice. Such a strange abstraction from reality often do escape the mind of any ordinary overly imaginative young boy. Heck, my childhood was awesome without the need of a computer games or any toys. I had friends which i think now was just imaginary. Sad little lonely boy playing with his own imaginations. Surely i didn't think twice about my visions. I loved them.


 But as we grow older we tried to put those childish things aside, especially when we reach high school, we try to be more mature by talking about girls boobies and butts. For many it was an easy transition but for my imaginary friends they just couldn't let me go. So they evolved with my age. From a scary multicolor aliens with antenna heads and a television in the tummies, to a sexy amazonian warrior chick hungry for some penis. It wasn't all that bad. But of course i couldn't control these visions. It comes to me when my emotions are the strongest and most out of control. Sadly for me my teenage years was a depressing suicidal one. I would make Edgar Allen Poe writing look like a Kenny Rogers collections. I was an emo-clown as my friends used to call me but i wasn't those Gothic kind of kinds who wear eye-liner and cut themselves with razorblades. No. I was the kid who for the fun of it hang myself and tries to drown himself in the bathtub. Favourite spot the rooftops. I cant really do cutting wrist and all. Didn't like pain. But if you read my blog i guess you could see the transitioning of my hallucinations. So no need for a history lesson on someone you don't even care about. But what the fu.ck am I rambling about then? I dont know. Do you know?



"So whats the point me telling you this story? To tell you I am mad? Nah i bet you already knew that by the look of me. To tell you that I could finally jump realities? You do that all the time when you fall asleep and dream. Someone who is mad like me surely able to jump realities even better than anyone one else but do i really need to? Do I really need another excuse to become mad? Or perhaps I tell you this in order to explode your mind with flashing images of transcendental understanding that could only come from immense abuse of substances that alters your perceptions of reality? Nah you can get that from your local drug dealer. I really do not know the point of anything anymore. I do not know why I even care to write, I do because I got nothing better to do. I leave you now. I bet you need some time to think about everything and nothing. Goodbye," said the homeless dude in the crowded bus station. " You know what, maybe I shouldn't have took the Brown Acid back in summer 1969."



The hippy took his bags and faded away into my mind as I sit here stroking this fat cat seeing that the time have only past a minute or so. I said to myself "That was one lucid imagination."




PS : Blogger is starting to censor vulgar words example: fu ck fuck
        so if i wrote the vulgar words in a strange manner do understand. FUCK CENSOR-SH.IT!!