part seven
i am lost. wandering. yearning for a reason to live
beyond tomorrow. a future. more than mere shadows on the winding
road ahead. a dream. something to hope for. something to love.
change. and beyond that. lost. because i feel i have nothing more
to learn. nowhere more to go. nothing more to see. hear. do. experience.
i am lost. because i feel i can never be lost. and i desperately
want to be. lost.
and then. knowing i am wrong. that i have so much
more to learn. so much i havent seen. yet still feeling trapped.
not knowing which way to go. where the mystery lies. the things
i dont know. when everything around you seems familiar but you
still dont know where you are. lost.
# # #
before sex. thrown against wall. hurt me. make me
afraid. hit me. harder. harder. rape me. and i understand. i understand
now. finally. why she wanted that. needed that. and why he enjoyed
it. the intensity. the fear. adrenaline. rushing. pouring. the
ultimate thrill. as i imagine being chased through a graveyard.
a friend following. but tonight. not my friend. ive told him to
beat me up. so i can fear. so i can run. so i can feel the pain
when he catches me. the searing. trying to escape. running again.
falling. hurting. and knowing in the end i will die. in my own
little way. i understand now. i understand.
# # #
then we heard he was wigging out again. going crazy.
neurotic. paranoid. he had been breaking into unauctioned estates.
where the owner had died over five years ago. stealing the furniture.
silver. selling it. lots of money. he found a gun. some bullets.
carrying it around. to protect the money. afraid somebody going
to steal it. jamie. he would give the gun to jamie. gotta make
sure no one steals the money. then later. jamie. paul. asking
for money for groceries. why do you want money. heres five dollars.
more? you keep asking for money. youre trying to steal it from
me. later jamie began to live in the suburbs. scott broke into
a mall they were refurbishing. stole stuff. sold it. police traced
the stuff. a description. so now they look for him. and he keeps
low. but he wont leave. he loves that city. his girlfriend. and
in a sense i think hes afraid of leaving. the only city hes ever
known. so he stays. but hes still family. in my heart.
# # #
so of late i am in albany. troy to be exact. it is
change. that is good. elsewise i still long for a woman. my mind
becomes aware of more each day. second day. i am going to the
library studying psychophysiology. needing to learn more. understand
more. hungry. the insatiable need to become one with the
universe. aleister crowley. i read that in an essay of his
on yoga the other day. then the essay ended unexpectedly. still
not understanding yoga.
# # #
finding. searching. i am slowly going mad. my book
is my journey to understanding. when you understand its all bullshit
you believe it anyway. you have nothing else to believe in. the
only thing stopping you from madness drives you to it.
and i thought today. people who are not philosophical
enough to look for meaning have all the meaning they could possibly
want. while those in search of meaning progressively find the
universe meaningless. so they search for it more.
a friend when high. thought he reached a higher level
of consciousness. became in touch with his animal instincts. desires.
wants. needs. akin to communicating with his soul. he thought
this brought him happiness. but rather he descended. went to a
plane where meaning had none. all there was were desires. wants.
needs. it dulled his ability to think. clearly. in that 'higher'
realm where one wants meaning. needs meaning. and gets depressed
when one finds none.
# # #
albany is an inspiration all its own. i can hear
myself talk. hear myself think. sitting at the top of the steps
overlooking empire state plaza. certain cities do this to me.
inspire me. make me feel at home. i am home here. not because
i have lived here for three years. but because i have found the
magic. ive finally found the magic. it took me three years. travelling
across the country. coming back. but it is here. and i am here.
walking through the rain. a man. whistling a tune.
walking through the streets under an umbrella. he winks at me.
i smile. there are magic people everywhere. even here. in this
grey city. i dont have to be in new orleans. the magic is in my
heart now.
# # #
things ive been learning. like learning to live for
what you want. not what other people want. learning to live for
what i want now. not what i wanted before. what i wanted in high
school. learning its okay to change your mind. and just because
you decided something a month or a year ago doesnt mean you have
to go along with it today. learning to get in touch with how i
really feel. not how i think i should feel. or how i felt before.
just because its been decided. nothing is stable. and decisions
have to be redecided all the time. so im not going to new orleans.
simply because i said i was going. even though then i had a good
reason. and im not going to be a fireman. simply because i thought
it would be a neat thing to be in third grade. nothing i decide
is permanent. because im constantly changing. rethinking my decisions.
growing. becoming a new and different person. who will make new
decisions. that will change also. someday. when i am no longer
who i am. now.
# # #
saw scott before i left. doing lots of drugs. dust.
acid. smoking out a lot. didnt seem himself. too mellow. emotion
lost. someone told me hed been doing collage art shellacked on
wood. maybe he was. he acted like he didnt really know. when i
asked him. then he remembered. concentration lost. strange talking
to him. like talking to a patient in a mental hospital. so drugged
out. depressed emotions. dead in the heart.
# # #
tonight i stood by two women. talked. chatted. danced.
they smiled. laughed. feelings inside. longing to be held. to
hold. to talk to someone. really. deeply. to care for. about.
feel a touch. an embrace. and know its more than just friendship.
feel that spark. the energy. and know it will last. beyond tomorrow.
next week. next town. when i leave. because travelling. you always
say goodbye. so you can never be too attached. having to say goodbye.
and i dont want that anymore. i want someone i never have to say
goodbye to. someone wholl always be in my heart. even if not with
me. someone to love me. but its only tonight. the night. tomorrow
i will wake up well again. because it only hits at night. only
it hit harder tonight. because its been so long. and i stood.
there.
# # #
andy. staring at static on a wall. on a piece of
paper. trick of the mind. they create three dimensional images.
if you look at them right. cross your eyes. focus. merging images
of two eyes. but i cant see them. birth defect. so i tease him.
ask him. you believe in this, but not in god. look at this. look
at it. do you believe in god? no. no. no. atheist. but he doesnt
understand what im really saying. different realities. to him
the three dimensional images exist. to me. nothing. static. like
a god. some people see one. feel one. some dont. but others see
it. no. others say they see it. maybe they believe in your reality
too. maybe they dont. just messing with you. like rachael on qed.
everything is perception. if you dont perceive it, its not real.
like colours to a blind person. nonexistent. void. you can explain
it to them. but its all in the imagination. not real. reality
is perception. i perceive it, therefore it exists.
# # #
sleep deprivation. a clove. sitting on the damp ground.
outside a broken fire circle. in the trees. after the rain. the
world changing. entering into it. until i am a part of it. a part
of nature. seeing myself. as i see the trees. the grasses. the
dirt. as if we were one. sitting. feeling the warmth of my hands.
as magick creates itself around me. communing with the earth.
sitting. breathing. deeply. holding the air inside.
but with my stomach. not my throat. air inside. holding. and the
passages are still open for it to escape. but it doesnt. peace.
thinking. breathing. like meditation.
# # #
aleister crowley. so wrong though. the insatiable
need. it is mine. now. others have no such need. and someday i
may not. but i understand the need now. different realities. and
she will go to heaven because to her. her god. she will be brought.
relative realities.
[and he understood this too. but he did not say all
he understood. and i read of him wrong.]
# # #
Memories lying open like the broken heart of
a dying man lost without his loved one. i went to the cemetery
today. the gates were locked. i never went in.
# # #
and these are my faults. so you know whats wrong
with this writing. understanding the slant. whatever---and realising
i cannot tell you without them affecting how i tell you. my faults.
--- wanting to be accepted by everyone. and i try to appear wiser
than i am. because i like to be wise. i want to be special. ever
since i was a boy. wanting to be more than everyone else. so i
act like i know everything. like ive been let in on the big secret
and you havent. and if youre nice ill let you in on part of it.
as some type of favour. and im writing this paragraph to absolve
myself. so i dont sound conceited. but deep down. its a warning.
that none of us are perfect. no matter how much i want to be.
so read with a critical eye.
# # #
because the sex thing always gets in the way.
yes. no. the sex thing. always there. but not. interfering. breaking
apart. making friendships impossible. new relationships with women.
developing. intimate. and sexual. but not. ive become. meeting
new women. old friends. incredibly attracted to female friends.
but not wanting anything to happen. just friends. only intense.
so much more intense. because im attracted to her. so i care.
about everything. want to know. everything. so intimate. but no
sex. and i know. as boyfriend-girlfriend. dating. personalities
would conflict. we wouldnt click. wanting different things out
of that type of a relationship. so we remain friends. and i feel
a pull. attraction. toward them. and the relationship becomes
more than an acquaintance. men and women can be friends. and the
sex thing can make friendships so much more powerful.
maybe my male friendships are the same thing. only
in a different way. the sex thing. denied. because i know i could
never be with them in that way. because i couldnt. but the attraction.
still there. pulling us together. making our friendships intense.
deep.
# # #
i saw roger last night. i still love him. i want
to be friends with him again. its been a long time. that night
is over. he asked me how i was doing. what i was doing still in
albany. i told him. it was like old times. and i felt a feeling
deep inside. a feeling i hadnt felt seeing him recently before.
when he was unshaven. and didnt seem to want to talk to me. more
interested in jeopardy. i thought we might be able to be friends
again.
and i even thought about more with him. because i
do care about him a lot. but i wont. i hope i wont. though he
looked so handsome. times have changed. and the night we had proved
i couldnt ever be with a man that way. but i still care.
# # #
two boys walked up to me today and handed me a shirt.
i put it on a fire hydrant. the top was like its head and there
were these things sticking out. like arms. i dont know what it
means. but i like the idea of dressing up inanimate objects. i
want to make long cylindrical knit sweaters for the poles of lamplights.
# # #
the other thing i saw was a magritte picture. it
was of a painter painting an egg. and on the canvas was an owl
in flight. it was called clairvoyance. i think if you watch people
grow and change. you learn that. to see the potential of someone.
too often though parents treat a potential as a fate. and thats
bad. because the egg could have become a parrot as well.
# # #
wondering about the indians. about the smoke. smoking.
who would think to inhale it. white man didnt. until the indians.
so i make a story. sitting by the fire. the smoke
is spiritual. carrying the prayers to the spirit. it is the spirit.
the spirit of the fire. the spirit of life. and now. understanding.
how some indian long ago wanted to feel that spirit inside of
him. so he made a pipe. and packed it with leaves. and set it
on fire. and the spirit was inside of him. he could feel it. it
made him more alert. seeing things clearer. he could feel the
spirit inside him.
and now i sit. feeling that spirit. because you only
feel it if you know the smoke is the spirit. and then smoking
is no longer smoking. it is magic. and i can feel the magic. inside
me. around me. as it disappears into the air.
# # #
lying on the third floor of a squat. hes tripping.
and he wants to know. how do you blow someone up. kill them. the
other man tells him. all about explosives. home-made. how to make
them. discussing car bombs. his mother. but no. theyll know who.
but he wants to blow someone up. random person. no. make it political.
conversation changes. mugging people. but he doesnt want to kill
them. so whack them hard on the head. tranquilizer dart. electric
stun. more discussion. as the other man places his hand in the
flame. keeps it there until it begins to blacken. burning himself.
dont just play with fire, fuck with it. and they are
both psychotic. yet highly intelligent. and tomorrow the other
man will be back in the army. explosives engineer. and next week
someone will be dead. because. he wants to blow someone up. just
once.
# # #
as i grow and change. everything about me changes.
the way i write. the way i look at the world. you can often tell
by my phrasing. my ideas. my philosophies. these writings show
myself not at any one point in my life but myself as change. and
to understand them. look not only at what i say. but how i say
it. and how how i say things changes.
# # #
peoples idiosyncrasies are what make them special.
and i must learn to appreciate them. instead of making fun. there
is nothing to be gained in the making of fun and yet so much in
the appreciation. (of course, in making fun we force others to
change, develop and grow. perhaps growing out of undesirable traits.
although disapproval. or a similar serious approach would probably
have better results. if someone has bad breath. tell me straight
out. making fun or ignoring it only harms the situation).
# # #
and one sentence can be so powerful. unlock a whole
philosophy. way of thinking. one sentence can unlock god. (we
search for the sentences that do this to us).
# # #
magick. each person creates their own. magick isnt
a spell. or a wave of a hand. its a feeling. an intense feeling
you can feel everywhere. throughout the world. and it comes from
inside. and affects the world. and yourself.
i was lost. looking for a meaning in life. looking
for something to do. i still dont know what to do. but i know
of a meaning. a meaning of magick. where i. and each person. creates.
to make the world a better place. to make it have meaning. making
things have meaning is creating magick.
religion is a magick. a powerful magick. personal
to each person. to give that person meaning in life. but so are
the fantasies. the fantasies we all live to escape our reality.
to enhance our reality. make it magickal. with meaning. (and these
magicks arent wrong. simply misunderstood).
love is magick. it gives meaning to your life. it
fills you with energy from the world around. and you give that
back. when youre in love. when youre creating that magick. death
too. very powerful magick. death gives one reason to live. not
just be alive. like the birth of a new baby.
anytime you feel that intense energy inside. thats
the magick. and you should let it out. because the magick rubs
on other people. and if you give your magick, someone will give
you theirs. (and if you make that what the worlds about, it will
be).
so i made a circle. made of bricks. around an old
burnt fire. because the primal is so magickal. and the magick
was already there. i could feel it. i made it. and now i go there
often. to that secluded spot in the woods where i can sit and
think. meditate. and create magick.
# # #
talking until sunrise. long sensual hugs. drifting
here and there. in our speech. in my thoughts. a magick. a feeling
of intenseness. so intense. as if i could tell her anything. but
this. because dont know what this is. and i dont really know if
i want to know. its magickal. its intense. and sometimes i think
id want something more. (could it be more intense?) but to risk
losing. everything. everything. too much. all gone. so quickly.
never. but the intensity. lasting forever? and wondering. wanting.
something. some security to know it will always be there. at least
for a time. and wondering what that would be like. but thinking.
no. forgetting about it. and living, things as they are. with
a smile and a hug. as the sky returns to daytime.
# # #
periods of the book are emotional. emotional experiences.
thoughts. running through my head. parts are experiences. parts
are other people. other peoples experiences.
# # #
the church of the true inner light. wandering around
washington park. ulysses. going to communion. hands us a flyer.
reading. then wandering more. to a door. painted with psychedelia.
ulysses waiting outside. as they prepare for his communion inside.
a dark man with long black dreads steps out. my name
is phil. you want to take communion. learn more about the church.
yes. he goes inside again. waiting. finally. sitting on the outer
step. as ulysses inside prepares for communion. phil begins to
explain the church.
you have read the flyer. the psychedelic is our eucharist.
we believe the psychedelic is a living being. god. there are four
steps to salvation. the first is seeing the light. the light of
the psychedelic. the living light. that which is alive and in
movement. the second step is to realise that the psychedelic is
a living being. communicating to us through our communions with
it. our experience of god. the third sign is to see. everything
outside the church is satan. evil incarnate. and only through
the psychedelic can we become good. and be saved. the fourth and
final. and perhaps most important step. realising the members
of the church are christ. reborn. become this generation. as one
sees christ on the cross. in the presence of the holy spirit.
and the warning. we must repeat. all repeat the warning
until we get it right. if we see christ on the cross in the presence
of the holy spirit. and we see the faces of the members of the
church. and realise they are christ. if this happens. if we are
not part of the church. we are condemned to live the life over
again. another life on earth. but we may not come back as humans.
and so. many years before we may be humans again. chance. and
only then can we redeem ourselves. so we must join the church
before this happens. important warning.
about their religion. believing the psychedelic is
the tree of knowledge of good and evil. and we were supposed to
eat from it. because god. and god was posing as the snake. and
told eve to eat. and satan was god. the evil one. telling adam
to stay away from the tree. and in the end satan chased us out.
out of the garden. so we wouldnt know god. the tree of good and
evil. the psychedelic.
and each generation. there are those. discovering.
seeing the light. the living light. the psychedelic tells them.
speaks to them. helps them to understand. the psychedelic is god.
and teaching others. these the christ reborn. until we are all
god. christ.
and then. he finishes talking. agreeing to take communion.
brought inside. told the warning. prepared. know the condemnation.
but the talking. so long. hours. questions constantly asked. we
must understand each part. then the next one. and finally inside.
the warning. and we are led back to communion.
the inside of the church. like a store front. made
into an apartment. benches under a loft. literature hanging on
he wall. yet the other wall. covered with drawers. and lamps.
and bikes. junk. screws. bolts. like a machine shop. a bright
coloured cloth separated the front from the back.
scared. as we walk into the back room. a mattress
thrown. couchlike. on the floor. a flask with a tube. and a place
to put leaves. mushrooms grow in the dark room next. ulysses lies
on the floor. dreamy. the other man asks us to sit. placing on
music. talking to ulysses about his communion so far. then. are
we ready.
john first. the leaves lit. as he inhales the smoke
into the flask. then put out. so the leaves dont burn away. too
much in the flask. and john takes a hit into his lungs. rachael.
i. tasting the smoke in my mouth. minty. strange. nothing happening.
another hit. things changing. john. rachael. taking more. and
i couldnt. because i could feel it. beginning.
LAMP:IN:OUT:FOCUS:FOCUS:TIRED:MOVING:SHIFTING:LIGHTS:
LOW:THEN:COLOURS:SWIRLING:SEPARATING:COLOUR:SEPARATION:
COLOURS:EYES:CLOSE:OPEN:RACHAELS:HAND:ACCELERATION:
FORWARD:OUTWARD:BODY:EVERYWHERE:FASTER:SPEED:PRESSING:
AGAINST:PULLING:OUT:BODY:BREAKING:FREE:BODY:SO:FUCKING:
INTENSE:GOING:TO:DIE:GOING:TO:DIE:SO:INTENSE:SPEED:
ACCELERATION:HEAD:MOVING:SPINNING:LOOKING:EVERYWHERE:
NO:FOCUS:VISION:BLURRED:ROTATES:COLOURS:NO:COLOURS:
BLACK:WHITE:WANT:COLOURS:MEDITATING:INWARD:PEACE:
PEOPLE:DIFFERENT:RACHAEL:MY:FRIEND:SO:MUCH:FRIEND:NEED:
HOLDING:HAND:HARDER:MOVEMENT:ENERGY:SPINE:UP:DOWN:
TINGLING:MASSAGING:SENSUAL:LIKE:POT:SUPPRESSING:THINGS:
CHANGING:RIPPLES:LIKE:STONE:POND:RIPPLING:EVERYTHING:
VISION:THEN:DIFFERENT:EFFECTS:WEAR:SLOW:DISAPPEAR:
TALKING
talking about communion. did you see the light. bullshit.
yes. i think i did. rachael. john. talking most. i think i see
this. i saw that. probably need another communion. pretending
to believe. i want to go. get out. they bother me now. such a
cult. finally. leaving. outside in the fresh city air. free. and
things seemed all changed walking through the city right then.
because we had been in another world. it was dpt.
# # #
brian. a man without morals. without culture. a parasite.
a thief. a fucking asshole. he travels. steals from the poor.
squatters. hippies. high school drop outs trying to make a living.
struggling. sometimes starving artists. he leeches off the friends
he pretends to make. steals sex from women he seduces. then leaves
before anyone knows what hit. he lies. about everything. overly
suspicious. of everything. afraid of the police. paranoid. he
says he has warrants for his arrest. he says hes spent time in
jail. he may be lying. he may be telling the truth.
hes slick. friendly. a guy youd never doubt to trust.
except for that nagging doubt you ignore. because you cant pin
it down. little things here and there. suspicion. how lazy he
is. always conning other people into doing things for him. he
assimilates into any culture well. except he has no culture. because
he had no morals. and even the most outlawed societies have rules
they live by. thieves. drug dealers. assassins. but he has none.
he is a parasite. a fucking asshole parasite who will die. because
its the only way to get rid of him. death.
# # #
thought is composed of perceptions (things from the
outer world) and of imaginings (things from the inner world).
if i dont perceive myself i dont exist. yet i can imagine other
worlds. with wild landscapes. different laws of physics. detailed.
and exact. but if i dont imagine myself. if i dont perceive myself
to be there. i dont exist there. you must be aware of yourself
to exist. anything can think about anything. imagine anything.
perceive anything. but we can imagine ourselves.
# # #
and i struggle to remember who my friends are. who
are not here. because forgetting helps to dull the pain of absence.
and now. in these days that i return to old worlds. with old friends.
things are strange. because weve changed. and i dont even quite
remember how they were before. much less today. and so we rebond.
reconnect. and i know them again. but then i leave once again.
to a different world. and they are forgotten once more.