When you approach, I quiver
I am curious about this
Your spiritual guide
Do I need one?
Ready to pounce
I am ready to pounce--
I plunge into—
What is it like to--
Engage the real
Is possibilities. Ortega—existence is, in the emerging instant, what is possible o us. Possibilities amongst which we have to choose
Instant gratification (internet
All options filled (gnostic
I am exploring another
Does ths make the whle world radient?
Be in teaching position
Gestures of convaying infrmation
Not who I am but
Where am I placed?
In what network?
I am speaing from marginal pivot point
America is making me stupid
My theory is better than your theory
Y0u are no longer permitted, this energy of a certain kind, no longer permitted to do your stuff—not in this life—not in this new world
Lok, look that energy radiates against the very walls of this room
I am re-inveting myself
Time is frozen in this moment ofbeginning to speak
Bnut of course, time never freezes.
May we say, nevertheless, that this moment repeats and repeats and repeats. Is that the same as time frozen?
Re-difinition of man. Neurons in global brain
Most important tool, repatory of responses in one area applied to another.
Here’s some new information
I am ultamitely mysterious.
What is inside me
(as if, other approached, eros)
What kind of brain is this
You should not ask about your own brain because there is a danger it will become imobilized.
That could be ok
I don’t think it would be a good experience for you
Listen, I’ve had lots of ideas in my time, and it never happens that any of those ideas is a big help in the long run. In the short run, yes, a momentary coerner is turnmed, but after turning that corner, guess what. I am soon back where I god-damn started.
So is it Ok if I ask please, what kind of a brain is this?
Suspended, all over consciousness
Step out of the play
Focused and non-focused
Pay attention to everything at once
Not agricultural ‘focus’
Not end oriented
Wait for an accident
Build a soul
Look not for certainties.
Should built on accidents
The new deTocville
His name was found again, and that inventory, but alas he was without the hope of ading to the known already known.
Ingratitude, left from the arrival point, he and he only, a man without the knowledge that
would be better.
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.