My extremities are cold. I’m in Kathmandu, Nepal. I’ve been here for a little less than a week I think. Flying into the city I look out my window and I see the Himalayas running parallel with my plane. I look down and we’re so high up that cars are invisible and buildings are a fraction the size of my pinky nail…hmm…that’s interesting. Clouds way above the sky—we’re flying past 20,000 feet. It doesn’t seem real—like most things in the subcontinent I suppose. I meet everyone upon landing more or less. We drive over to a Buddhist guest house for orientation. Climb up to Swyambhu after hearing a lecture from a journalist who works for Radio Free Asia. She was intense. She often referred to the Chinese government as a bunch of motherfuckers and called George Bush a gangster, which is appropriate. She stood up quite often and spoke like she just crawled out of hell—so that was awesome and everyone was intensely sucked into the talk. She had some interesting credentials: went to high school in India, graduated from Harvard, her father was a senator; she’s met the Dalai Lama, and her ex-husband, John Avedon, wrote the world famous book we read, “In Exile from the Land of Snows.” She didn’t censor herself and I appreciated this.
I met my homestay family last night. A Tibetan family consisting of a mother, father, and nine-year-old daughter. Kathmandu’s infrastructure is pretty raw so we don’t get power for 14 hours a day and there isn’t any central heat. I sleep in the shrine room with fifteen different pictures of the Dalai Lama and Karmapa smiling down upon me so that’s kinda cool. It isn’t that cold here I think I’m just used to South India and swimming in the Arabian Sea so I need to adjust accordingly. It never snows here but a winter coat is needed except for like mid-day when the sun is out. This place seems mellow compared to India. I’ve only seen a handful of severely deformed beggars with missing limbs rather than a endless horde—so that’s uplifting I suppose. Tibetans eat meat like its their job so I think I’ll fit in well—momos and noodles—word.
I signed up for this program oblivious to anything about Tibet. Had I not gone unsane and dropped the lacrosse mask I wouldn’t be here...Too many odd things add up and it seems like I’m in the right place at the right time—engaged in a program where the two main focuses seem to be on political activism and Buddhist philosophy. A choice to be made and perhaps the two can be reconciled. I suppose Gandhi managed to make it work…I just find a difficulty where one philosophy is telling me everything I know…including that “I” that pretends to know is an illusion while the other one is saying the illusion needs to be altered…but if its an illusion why bother? Right, suffering. I think the choice comes down to asking oneself, “what can I do in order to alleviate the most suffering possible?” and hopefully the heavens will part, Gensha will come down and pave the road to political or spiritual liberation but I can’t say that has quite happened yet. Its happened maybe a little bit…but not totally…Our seemingly Ex-Hippie Belgium professor, Hubert, informed us that in order to visit Swaymbhu (the Budddhist Stupa here) you must have incredible merit from past lives so according to that logic I suppose I’m doing something right…It’s a little odd being in a new group of people who have just showed up to the third world when I’ve been here for almost half a year now. I think people are still American while I’ve degraded into something more decrepit. The conversation of the fluidity of human sexuality came up and I told everyone I was into animals. Everyone just stared at me and no one said a word…I guess they didn’t get the joke…The longer I’ve spent on my own the deeper I’ve gone into my own head and I suppose the ideas that compose social decency have escaped my grasp…But how can you blame me? My list of recent activities has included visiting a temple dedicated rats, smoking weed with alcoholic Indians, shitting on my pants multiple times, and not showering for days…
End of Nepal post.....
...Beginning of creative writing post....
Anyways, I like doing little creative writing exercises where I just allow my thoughts to spin out and I jot down what random stuff comes to me and so I wrote this on my bus from Jaipur to Delhi early in the morning. It isn’t really about India in particular or uh, really anything I guess. Its primarily just the insanity that flows through my mind when I’m not focused on anything. I think its entertaining so I figured I’d share it since people are actually listening to me—which I actually don’t fully condone so don't hold me accountable to ever acts on my beliefs.…but so it goes.
God hates us all
Spun out and lost in psychological destitution, I keep on soaring through a sordid hell hole of third world poverty. A lost cause where everything I thought mattered implodes onto itself and the ugliness I hide within the depths of my psyche boils up from the sweltering temperatures and corrupt social order. I bitch and moan over in(tensity) while the hungry ghosts artificially smile in hopes of no tomorrow.
Edge of the apocalypse. With every environmental shift a re-analysis of inner perception follows. Pissing on the side of a wall the hidden truth of human innocence escapes me and blindness follows behind a fear covered shield of denial. Slamming my face into a mirror I break part of my nose and chip several teeth. I fall to the floor. I’m coming home, you can only drop so far until you trigger a trip into the void. The mind escapes and leads you back to that place beyond conceptual thought where nothing and everything merge into a black hole of awareness.
Death and life becomes a dance not a drama. The world rips me back into it though and naïve thoughts of political overthrow and black magik become tantalizing, “what is really possible?” I ask myself. In the end you can only play with your own projections. To change the scenery of the jail cell isn’t freedom and I’m losing interest in the shifting reconfiguration of the environment—even when I wield the final result from start to finish. What?
Art becomes a drain and a distraction on our search for something real. A copy which Plato believed to be of the lowest form…Then what’s this for?
Anger and rage inhabit a home where the door is bolted shut with a guard on the watchtower ever vigilant with an M4 but all can’t hold closed. …Everything is falling apart…A breakout has been initiated and its only a matter of time until all hell comes lose. You can feel it in the air and sweltering deep down inside…Not a rebellion but a revolution. Don’t kill the guards, become them instead and melt the whole thing away into the primordial soup of amorphous energy…peace? That would be nice..
You can’t understand this until you do. When it makes sense you will be the one writing this (like this) and you will no longer be you or even me for that matter. Trapped in a cage of filtered paranoia this thing makes it presence known. How long can you honestly hide from other people? You play a game of bullshit and someone calls your bluff on the hand and that’s when you finally realize the whole world can see through the veil you wear but it might just be that they’re too scared to confront you over the issue. Fucking seething under this emotional ice.
The paranoia melts from a neurosis into an uncontrollable rage where I’m foaming from the mouth and flooding the floor with drool. Eye balls bulge pulsating red veins.
“Are you angry with me, Jerry?” Raji asks, after fucking me over on a card game I just got my ass kicked in.
“uh…….No,” I quietly say with a repressed undertone and a false smile. It kicks into my skull like a blast of adrenaline and I realize all five of them see who I actually am. I can’t hide it any longer. In the meantime, I’m thinking to myself, “what’s the slowest and most painful way I can dissect and torture everyone at this table alive…?”
Thinking about utilizing a scalpel and slicing open Rajiv’s esophagus and ripping out his spinal cord with my bare hands from the bloody hole sounds appealing at this point in time…
It was weird because I could see myself clearly too and it dawned on me the dilemma is raw fucking hatred and fear of letting it lose, not simply an irrational fear. The presence of destruction within me appears to be some kind of a realistic fear. Overtly fucking aggressive and I scare myself more than I do you. I’ll sacrifice my feelings for the sake of your survival. Just stay the fuck away from me until this goes null. I’m exposing myself here and it might not be for the best. Self-doubt is a dream killer—let it out and enslave the survivors.
Everyone’s innocent and you sit back and all you can do is forgive. Compassion? A complexity I’d rather not decipher. I’d rather just let it go and have it die into itself—to know emptiness is to know compassion and I navigate through endless tunnels of confusion. Tunnels anyone? Inside jokes... However, I suppose if I just gave up it would all collapse into a single moment of understanding but the reality of the inner journey is you got to move and you need to fight (yourself).
Ten hundred thousand blood stained fists rise in synch to a burning flag. Sorry, times up, we’re tearing you down for good. Unsympathetic violent tenacity runs rampant through a slum and the anger of 2,000 years of silent suppression reaches a point where the volatility of a cold-hearted society can no longer be tolerated. War drums beat off in the distance. Can you feel it? Preaching a sermon of perpetual internal conviction God will smite you for your arrogance. Pride come before fall and you (I) look primed for a kick in the teeth.
If you ever wanna make it home you gotta die! “Work out your salvation with dillegence. Decay is inherent in all things.” Lets speed up the process, enough of this bullshit. I’m spun out again. Channeling words from an unknown source that seeks to liberate your perspective from all the tyrannical restraint you’ve convinced yourself is true freedom. Lies. This is too confusing to understand. I don’t honestly understand half the shit I say most of the time I just like how it sounds…like metal nails on a rusted chalk board…I don’t need to hear you tell me this because I can already feel your thoughts, creeping through my skin, sifting under my rib cage, and piercing the crumbling walls of my heart. A disturbing silence obliterates the mental noise for a temporary eternal moment where you just sit in emotional failure as if to ask, “what went wrong?”
Salvation is no more. Redemption has been postponed for something greater. Freedom for the human spirit will come and we will all taste the sweet nectar of peace. Harmonious vibrations spilling out from each and every point on Indra’s net of eternity and the sages whisper in our ears that all will finally be well in what has been a endless cycle of suffering, taking from us the things we love and saving nothing. At the end of the day you never wanted anything because you already had it all to begin with but that’s sort of the problem of a mistaken identity. Re-align your identification with that which goes beyond words and you will know, “I am that I am.”
Biblical manipulation and the superficiality of commercial advertising sows a seed of doubt, screaming like a night terror that breaks the silence aboard a ship of upper class passengers returning from a week of illusionary paradise. The only protest we know is more and the only compassion we embrace is our own. What do you expect? Sainthood? Check the I-ching, timewave zero’s almost up, according to Mckenna. Judgment day has fallen upon us and I cannot ask anymore of you than I already have. Someone told me, “well they’re doing the best they can…” I guess its just not good enough…
Whatever man. I take shit too seriously but its fun to be melo-dramatic. I take my thoughts with brevity and laugh at myself whenever possible. I take it all as a joke, nothing seriously, at least not in the way you might believe I do. It just sounds right, like the word “Bombay”…it just sounds right…Mumbai is a good word too. Bounces off your lips. You land there and I can dig the reason why they chose those two names. Far out man…Palm trees and a network of economic conglomeration spit out over an Arabian body of water—over flowing with blind dreams and false hope from the massive influx of villagers. The rich get richer. Poor get—Feel free to beg or make a living selling the same knock off head phones for two bucks a pair. I—nevermind.
The first step to freedom is to stop tearing yourself down. I known this but I haven’t fully realized it yet and I suppose a time will come. It took the Buddha six years…hopefully it won’t take me that long…
Does anyone else feel this shit? It drops in your chest like an oil spill slowly choking out all life while the only thing the public can do is watch and go, “jee honey isn’t that unfortunate” yeah, fuck you too. “I need a fix cause’ I’m going down”
Ultra-violence? A clockwork of lies. There’s no outlet and its going to tear you apart from the inside while we watch and smile. Don’t worry dude, you’re fucking next I already have the hammer to nail your coffin shut you ignorant fuck. Hang you inverted from the cross would be my pleasure. Swallow decency and let the stomach acid have its way. Malice becomes my therapy. “I’m sensing a lot of anger, what seems to be the problem?” …just the fact that you and everyone else exists, that’s all. Fuck your confusion on the matter its not something that rationality can clarify. Shovel your way into animal instinct and all your precious semantic stabilization gets sucked down the drain into a sewer full of shit where the rats feast. Intensity seems confined or localized to a select few but one only needs to scan the internet to get a read on the global state of humanities perversity. You ever think about the number of viral videos graphically depicting beheadings? Don’t get caught, the herd might not approve even if you know they just won’t admit it tickles their fancy. Bloodlust is a drug for the sick at heart. Mooooooo. Holy Cows wander the streets for free in exchange for milk.
Pain can only feed on itself how many can truly proclaim to be free from it? Just keep drinking your honesty away and hide behind a denial of alcohol. It only a takes a chemical re-configuration of energy to see your lies. No one wants to take the plunge with me so I’m going to staple the tips of your fingers to mine and we can sift through it all as one. This way we can at least see the inherent connection. Our skin is clothing, our awareness is mutual. Drag the waters, seriously, its important you do this. Please, look at me. Yes! I am talking to you! Pay attention time is almost up and you don’t want to be left behind when it all comes down. Everything else is a prelude to that. Dig deep until you hit the bottom and realize it’s the same as the top. Sit back in awe. Feels good man.
Ride a wave of discontentment into empty bliss. Suffering slowly melts away the bullshit you front and your exposure annihilates all darkness. Evil is always redeemed. What can we find in this world but ourselves? What can we hate but ourselves? Self-forgiveness and the never ending potential of redemption is always waiting for you on the other side.
De-conditioned apes of God pray in tribalized manners that suck apart the bubbles of isolation into a hive mind where telepathic reality becomes truly possible. However, I can’t claim to be a Deadhead. I listen to too much metal. I’m not out there, I’m just deep in here. You’re the one whose “out there”, stop grabbing at the moon’s reflection and help me build a ladder into the depths of the ocean.
You never see the whole picture, only a distorted fragment you mistake for life. Execute all the sacred cows and decimate the temples. Dig up the dead and chop up the living. Yesterday’s rules mean shit. This is today and anything is possible.
Now, what are you going to do about it? If you’re left with a blank stare on your face confused as to what the hell I just said (assuming you’ve made it this far and haven’t quit on my psychosis) then good, that’s a step in the right direction. To know is to not think, to think is to not know. So you need to be confused to stop it all and you can then gather my ramblings from there…
Take it with a grain of salt, chances are I’m just polluted.
PEACE
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