Suppose you didn’t believe that you really did exist.
Suppose you believed that you didn’t really exist.
Holding on to yourself as your body starts to shake, you imagine the following.
You walk down the sunny boulevard in your new polka dot dress., with the skirt that flares out, and holding a small leather pocket book which you clutch to the side of your body even though you are smiling a faint smile.
And in the crowd occupying a café along that wide boulevard, you catch the eye of an appealing someone—and you think to yourself as you stop, smiling, your back to the sun—this is the one who will certify my existence.
And you stand there, smiling faintly, with the sun behind you, making your hair frizz like a golden halo, and the crowd on the boulevard is moving past, in all directions at one, but you are not moving, and the eyes of that man are upon you, and slowly, very slowly like honey dripping from a spoon into a cup of frozen tea, your physical self dissolves, and disappears like a slow fade, in front of his fascinated eyes and deep consciousness.
And the actual disappearance of your physical body—it could happen! As if it were melting into the world of sunlight behind you. It could happen!
And then—would you exist, finally? Or would it be necessary to keep telling the stories of your life inside your lifetime—even if you didn’t exist, would those stories exist and then—who would it be that was existing?
Pretend you were alone in a room, and suddenly, spontaneously, your body caught fire, and within seconds, all of your body was consumes by flame and turned to ash, within a few seconds—all but a left foot in a clean red shoe, untouched.
It could happen—it has happened before to a few bodies—that pure fire.
And if it should happen to you, what stories would remain—untouched like the left foot and the red shoe?
Is that why your body shakes and the stories go “knock knock knock—can I come out please?”
Do I still exist?
Suppose you were in bed and began shaking. The whole body—shaking.
Does that mean you exist or you do not exist.
Find out please!
Ask yourself an important story that has no importance because it really did happen—
So does this mean you exist or you do not exist, and what is the importance?
Ask yourself if you believe in this story more than you believe in other stories you could not tell.
Ask yourself if you believe you exist more at these moments, when your whole body is shaking, more than at those other moments when your story is being told.
Inside which of those times are you existing and is that really important?
Remember—if you disappear by fire—or if you disappear by time, slowly making you melt into nothingness against the sunlight—
or if you disappear into your own story which you are telling to stop the body from shaking--
remember—you will never exist more than now, right now,
--so which of those options is the option you chose by letting the world that is not you make that important choice—
for you alone.
Suppose it was the case that you were surrounded by people and by a world in which the depth and intricacy and solidness of the world and your fellow human beings was replaced by a world in which human beings were all—you know thin somehow, with no enfolded depth, with nothing but a surface-- even if that surface seemed clever and quick about the ways of the world but had no—you know—depth.
But suppose all this mean was that the scene of the action were elsewhere, no longer in human beings as such, but—you know, elsewhere—though human beings, the new thin kind, still participated in that action that was elsewhere, like some fluid, like there is spinal fluid, or atmospheric fluid between people—and that’s where all the action was taking place, not inside these now thin human beings but permiating them rather, as if they were permiated by this fluid --so they could just float-- and be buffetted by this ‘elsewhere’ of this life force that was operating in some new way on the surface of these new people with no depth on the inside
Suppose it was like this, really like this with people—here and now.P
Magic? Magic is no longer necessay—I tell you this and what happens? You hold your head and smile
Here, there is nothing but the celebration of things. Dare to be exhaused
If I am exhausted, how can there be celebration
Exhausted—this is great
Treading wateer. I do it. That. In order to swim backwards
Life: stolen from me
Making such demands that I am forced to turn into the son of a bitch I am now, so I can
Go with the flow
Which is shit, fuck, son of a bitch.
Right. We have been cheated
My life has been stolen from me
Here it comes, the space factory
Manufacturing more space, inside things
This perfect body, deepening space
Empty space, reproducing itself
Such emptiness absorbing
Each different emptiness
You receive this orange
Which, until eaten
Don’t eat this orange
An entire planet
You are the space angel
What it depends upon,
The brain, minus
Shift of focus
Why space empties
The unapproachable fact
This manipulation of a surface
Eats all surrounding space
The anaonamous number
Multiples into deep space
Protect your eyes—
Are the solid unimaginables
The space which compresses
The space which multiplies
Is impenetrable and like fire
This is access
To my other self
Why not revolve
Into the space
By other space
The great heart
Gripped by space
In an of itself nothinh
I fly in deliberate
Recreating itself automatoically
Producing the same
Of an idea
Covering the whole world
Of the mind
Emptiness, full of
More and more
Space has furniture
Disolving through distance
All directions at once
Wind, with no
Of that wind
Space space space
By the genius mind
To each reserection
A solid inside
Something even more dense
Space folding on
It’s empty self
Inside more space
The diamond of space
Compressed into multiple depths
The trajectory of each mind.
People who talk continually about—
--Oh please, please, please!
People who talk continualy about their inner life—
Oh Please, don’t talk about your inner life.
I am like a flat surface, a pancake
You are not like a pancake
Yes. In these times, we are all like pancakes, spresad thin, no depth but approaching eaxh of us, the wide horizons of life itself
Sometimes, human beings are given to expressing their philosophy of life,
On rare occasions the depth of things produces sunlight, banal and beautiful at the same time.
Occasionally, a path followed diligently, looses it’s appeal
Sometimes the bottom falls out of life
Sometimes, you and me—
--This is not interesting. Things happening are not interesting. Being very tired is notinteresting, but being very tired and faling asleep, this is interesting. Being ready to fall asleep and ling down and doing it—or letting it happen—this is interesting
Falling asleep is interesting—dreaming is not interesting
Make sure to open any doors that promise hidden treasure
I am a man who has seen everything
Here I am. Overflowing and delerious
Of course, when the heart breaks, everything breaks.
The entire city seems to be opening from the inside, and there is a circular motion, headed, so it would seem, towards unavoidable catastrophy
Here I am, ready to take my stand. Not against reality, but deep inside reality. Invisible, therefore, but fed – in a way that other people are not fed. God speaks to me. This is because I have depths, constructed as parts of myself fold over oter parts of myself. And if I didn’t have to speak language—I could tell you the truth about everything
This café would be an unusual place for truth to suddenly appear.
Why? Why not this café?
I don;’t belong here. I don’t belong in a world where people hve speech patterns like idiots
No, we don’t speak like this becase we are idiots—we can speak normaly.
What the hell—
We choose to speak this way because it produces a more intense mental resonance
I encourage adventure by losing consciousness
Here comes another catastrophy.
It sometimes happens that a man with no desire to leave his usual neighborhood, finds himself in an unusual environment. Where am I he says. Without leaving his old neighborhood. Becuaes—his speed is sometimes faster than the world’s speed
Let me skim the cream off the top of this situation, Off the top of—well, any situation really.
And how do you skim the cream off the top of this situation?
Well, I take some little detail—one or two little details that appeal to me—and these details—that’s what I validate about the situation
Hat about the details you don’t validate
I left them go
OK. In this situation, what are those one or two little details
No, no, I never talk about them. I let them fuzz inside of me—but they are potent
Skimming the details seems like it would have to be a conscious thing. A willed and focused activity
I like it here. The sex and the violence are good here
am I currently visiting
You being one of the few people who might understand this--
The darkness falls
Taking place that takes place
Having lost all belief in a better world, setting off, therefore, in search of the invisible
They expected something interesting to happen, and if they missed it somehow
Life went on, but—unendurable
Until the next interesting thing started happening
Lost in space
Driven crazy by forces that
Seduced others with
The promise of happiness
Look, here’s a person unting the knot
Using his body to mirror that deep entanglement
Be happy about your state of confusion. Do it again
You’re missing the point, you’re trying so hard you’re missing the point
There is a twist in things. From te very first moment, there is a twist
Thinking mean,s going wrong. But you have to think, so you have to go wrong, because…
You see things, but you can’t see everything, so you have to go wrong, because. . .
What should I do with this life. I have it. But..
You think I’m crazy, but I’m only HALF crazy
This -------- will have to stand in for that magic object I could easily call my revelatory encounter. But wait a minute. If I went out into the streets, would I be even more likely to encounter something that could genuinly change my life?
I do think so
Catastrophy is just around the corner, but you will never see it, and therefore you will be happy, even though you will sometimes feel like crying, because you’re deepest wishes will never be gratified. And you will accept that. And therefore catastrophy is just around the corner.
Don’t you get it?
You exist inside a special kind of space, where depth is just one more paper thin surface.
Space, space, invisible space
It’s because of the space you don’t see,
Curled up inside the space you do see.
Suppose you were waiting in a café for a beloved someone,
To walk down the street in your direction
And the sunlight was so bright
You said o yourself if I look into that light
That light will blind me.
Thak god, thank god,
so blinded, you felt inside-- on fire
And the beloved for whom you waited appeared ,stepping down from a bus as the door opened
And the beloved appoeared, transformed
in the shape of the child she was in years past
carrying a little red suitcase that suited such a child which was the true shape of the beloved as she
sat with you now at the café table
ordering refreshement suitable for the occasion
smiling back into the sunlight
and deciding to open the red suitcase and finding that somebody
had packed the very same dress that both you and the beloved hoped agaoinst hope hoped she would be wearing
such a beloved one
as she the beloved
came walking toward you, down the wide boulevard
your eyes meeting like an electric shock
Wearing a dress --much too large for a little child sitting beside you
--While that beloved was wearing that dress
and disappearing under your very eyes
into space and time which was some different space and time
to which you believed heretofore, that you had no entry
though you too, you too
did exist, in fact, inside that different space and time
and you understood at last, that you did exist always
Inside that different space and time
You did, you did
You really did
Fire fire fire
Into the best fire
The real fire
The fire that burns everything
Space, space, disolving everything from the inside, making it the outside, pure--
To dosappear could mean, to become totally transparent. Where she, you, it, was—now: the whole wortld. The whole world