Some advice about yourself

Have you ever journeyed into your mind? It can be pretty intense especially if you take the train. I prefer to do walking tours. It takes longer but you learn a lot more. If you go too fast you can easily forget things even if you did notice them at the time. I remember this one time I made this huge revelation about how my mind worked only to wake up the next morning with no idea what I had realized. I knew it had happened but for the life of me I couldn't recall what it had been. But if you take it slow and treat your brain like one of those 19th century cameras that took forever to get an imprint of the image you'll do just fine. Its more important that you get a few good clear images than a million blank pieces of paper. You also have to realize that who you are is constantly in flux. Something that you knew about yourself yesterday may be faulty info in just a couple weeks or even less time. But its important to not only know who you are, but also who you were. Knowing who you were in the past can help you create a better you in the future. Or at least a you that you are more content with, whether others think its better is a crapshoot, but who the fuck cares what they think anyway. That's not to say you should never accept advice. If you respect someone's opinion by all means pay attention to advice they give you. So to recap, unless you respect my opinion pay no heed to this advice. Of course now I've created a paradox. If you don't respect my opinion you won't follow my advice to not follow my advice which leads to you following my advice which says not to follow my advice and so on.

If dreams were real

Running. Trees, maybe I can just plow through in between them. Ow brambles. Ok maybe I ought to walk. Got to be careful to grab the brambles between the thorns. Never put too much pressure on them that way the thorns won't stick into you. Ok that wasn't too bad. Maybe I can run again. Oh.

What happened? Why is it dark out. Blood, why am I bleeding? Oh yeah something hit me on the head. Must have run into this branch. How long was I unconscious. Oh I guess its not dark out I just couldn't see anything. Man I've never heard of loss of vision from hitting your head. Why is everything the wrong color? Where the fuck am I? Where did all those trees go? And the brambles, I distinctly remember brambles. Why is the sky shimmering? And the ground seems to be moving. I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought. That would explain all this blood. Well I guess I better find some water and wash my head off. How am I supposed to find any water with everything moving like this. Well I guess this more flowing bit is water. It is a bit clear. Holy Shit is that my reflection? I look awful. Wow I really must have lost a lot of blood, its all over my head. Wonder where it came from, I can't seem to find a cut. Ah, that's better. Now I better figure out what the fuck this place is. Huh, the tree seems to have disappeared. No wait, if I tilt my head just right and look out of the corner of my eye I can just see it. Oh there's the rest of the woods, and the brambles. I knew there were brambles! I wouldn't forget something like that. Why can't I see them regularly. Oh shit what the fuck is happening? Why won't I stay on the ground? What happened to all the vegetation? Why is there nothing to hold onto? Getting hard to breath. How the fuck can gravity just stop working? That must be what's happening. That would explain why the air seems to be getting thinner, it must be dispersing with nothing to hold it to the earth. I better not make any movements. That would just propel me further from the ground. Maybe I can fart really hard and push myself back towards the ground. Too much effort. I think I'll just close my eyes for a bit. Getting really tired. Must be from lack of oxygen. Losing my vision again. Damn I had hoped to go out with a bit more of a bang than this.

A bouquet of words

Orange. I like to start with a color. Or a fruit. Oranges are delicious, but that's not the point. The point of a mountain is a peak. The peak of sophistication is supposedly in Paris. And Paris was supposedly a rather fruity guy. So there we are back at fruit again. How do you get out of a circle? Or into one for that matter? Where exactly is the best place to be in relation to a circle? I guess it all depends on what kind of circle it is. Most experts agree its best to be in the circle of life, whether that circle is a hangman's noose or a circle of friends I couldn't tell ya. Are we even sure life is circular? What if its ellipsoidal? Another thing that's ellipsoidal is our dear planet's orbit. Unlike a piece of Orbit gum, which is more of a rectangular prism. That sure sounds a lot like prison. Come to think of it a prison cell is most likely prismal. If that's even a word. I don't really care if it is a word. One of those letter thingies that I'm sure is a word is vase. I sure got my word's worth out of that one when I was describing my glass collection. Did you know that if you take the space out of it, words worth is a poet? He liked to write about sublimity. Like a lot of flowers or other such things. Never could quite figure it out. I mean I like flowers as much as the next guy. Well unless the next guy were to be a florist. Then I probably like them more than the next guy. I'm going on the assumption that if you have to work with flowers eight hours a day, you're probably pretty tired of them. Speaking of tired I'm pretty tired of all this gibberish.

Acceptance

I was running. There was this really big animal. I think it might have been a dinosaur. Maybe it was a house. It's all a bit blurry. Then my feet went forward and I was flying backward. Someone must have hit me. Maybe I ran into a branch. No I think it was one of those two part doors and only the bottom was open. Well whoever it was she sat on my chest and started punching me in the face. Then the trees decided to invert themselves and she was thrown off as we shot up. It must have been a yew or a pine, definitely not a holly. This bird dropped by he must have been an owl. We had tea and discussed the nature of existence. He seemed to think the primary purpose of living was to enjoy wonderfully fresh and delicious field mice. I told him he had the right idea but that mice really don't taste all that good. Since we couldn't reconcile our difference he decided to go. At this point the trees reverted to their normal positions and I ended up in a very deep well. It hadn't been there before but that's life for you: always full of surprises. I was lucky because when the bucket came down I realized I could fit in it, although the man trying to get some water wasn't all that lucky. He got me instead of water. This quite startled him and he dropped the rope, but never fear I grabbed the edge of the well and was able to climb out. It quite startled me to see all of the pink foliage so I tried to eat some, but the tie-died man stopped me saying that it was poisonous. Poisonous to you maybe but I'm not from around these parts. I ate it anyway. Apparently this was against his religion so he had me skinned alive and cooked for dinner. I have to tell you I was quite delicious. After dinner I decided I better be moving on so I rounded up one of the little yellow bunnies and rode it to the next town. These folks weren't quite so zealous as the last guy so I tried to sell them one of the books the owl had given me. Unfortunately it hadn't been published yet and I couldn't figure out how to get it out of my head. They were very nice though, and gave me a lobotomy in the hopes that it would come out. I think it might have but they must not have liked it because they ran me out of town soon afterwards. Since I obviously couldn't get the hang of people I decide to try and reconcile my differences with the owl. He had already forgotten about our little tiff when I found him again and was feasting on a delicious mouse. After that I spent most of my time with the owl, because he could accept me for who I was. It was a good life, even if the height of cuisine was fresh killed mouse.

Embrace the good things in life

Green. I painted this room. Did you know that? With my own two hands, and a paint roller of course. I painted most of the rooms in this house to tell the truth. Well the ones that are painted. My room is just unfinished brown wallboard. I'm not too happy with the trim work, but I was in a rush and the corners are rounded so its hard to get the line to look good from all angles. From the ladder it seemed just fine. I had to pay a fine once. Actually I've had to pay more than one fine, but only one big one. It was a memorable event. Do you remember it? Oh never mind. I've half a mind to forget it myself, but it doesn't want to go away. Sometimes I like to go away. I don't get much chance to physically go away, its just too expensive. So I just go away in my head, that can get expensive too. People tend not to like those who travel in the realms of their heads because they seem detached. I found out I have a high risk of detached retinas but I don't have them now so I shouldn't worry. Thats what the doctor said. You know how they are, any reason to get you to come back. Well I'm not going back, at least not back to Mexico. Its full of Mexicans. I do like Mexican food but you can get plenty of that in New Mexico. This country is all about the new, and the news. We're news obsessed. There seems to be this phenomenon in the US that everyone just loves to hear about others misfortunes. Oh they say "How horrible" and feel genuine sympathy, but I think the underlying cause is an ever present need to feel better than others. Thats why I stopped watching the news, when they start reporting about all the wonderful things that happen in the world then I'll start watching again. I don't need the TV to tell me something I can look outside my door and see. The sea is frequently green, did you know that?

Time

Ok. Hear me out on this one. As long as you have the time to do so. How the fuck can you have time? I'm really confused by this whole time thing. What the fuck is it? Sometimes you've got too much time, then other times there's too little time. Then something happens just in the nick of time. What the fuck is a nick anyway, and does time really have one? It seems like one of those things thats made up just to disappoint you. Whenever you want a moment to last forever its over in the blink of an eye, and then when something is going horribly wrong and you just want it to be over time extends itself and it lasts forever. And then this other time you eat some weird piece of paper with a picture of Winnie the Pooh on it and time just starts undulating and dancing all over the place and you're not sure if its coming or going or maybe you even think you can hold onto time with your bare hands and wrestle it as if you were breaking a big old bronco named Widowmaker. I mean what exactly is it? Is it a liquid of some sort that flows by you, or is it a solid that you can have and use up? Are we even sure that it exists? What if the whole concept of time is just something we made up to freak out the acid freaks desperately trying to get a grasp on it so they won't get bucked off into some strange dimension where no one cares about time and just sits around chilling out. And then they stumble upon the stoners.

In the Window

I'm thinking about perception. I mean are the things we see actually there? Like, I'm looking out the window right now and yes I do see what's outside, but I also see reflections of things behind me in the room. I even see myself. But I'm not outside, I'm inside. At least that's what I think. How do I know that what I'm seeing is not some other me? I know you could say that I can prove it's just my reflection by moving and seeing that the other me moves, and then you can say that since I thought about what I was doing first I must have instigated the action and the other me was just reflecting what I did. But what if I'm some mental reflection of him? What if the only reason I thought to move was because he was thinking about moving and then that was reflected in my thoughts and we both moved? I mean my senses tell me that this other me is just a physical reflection of myself, but what if I'm actually seeing some other reality, of which I am just a reflection? Is it possible that all of my thoughts are just reflections of this other me's thoughts and therefore all of my actions are mere reflections as well? What if we are just living in one giant 3 dimensional reflection of some greater reality. Maybe that reflection that I see in the window is really the real me living in some strange dimension that I can't even comprehend and I see him in the window because he thought it would be funny to see his reflection in some strange otherworldly mirror. But then again what if he too is writing this and thinking I'm the strange other him? What if we're both just reflections, like when you hold two mirrors up to each other? Is there even a real me or are we all just reflections? And if that's the case where does it end? Is there some strange third party me that's not me or the me in the window that thought it would be funny to see how I reacted to seeing myself? Maybe that me held up millions of mirrors and I am repeated into infinity, just looking at my reflection in the window and thinking all this shit. Well, at least it gives me something to think about.

A City of Ideas

Hi its me again. Is it ever anybody else? Am I just me or am I a conglomeration of different mes? What happens if I act differently in two occurrences of the exact same situation? Can you ever have two occurrences of the exact same situation? Does the fact that it already happened once make the second time not the exact same? What if its just two very similar instances in which you should have acted the same way both time but you don't? Is it because you've learned something? How can that apply if you always react to things at an instinctual gut level? I at least try to. I trust my gut much more than my head. Well at least I thought I did. Can your gut instincts second guess themselves? I thought that was just something your conscious could do. Or is it not second guessing but actually two different gut instincts, or even more? Is it possible for one to have multiple gut reactions to the same situation? I'm really starting to make myself paranoid here. How are you supposed to live your life if you can't trust that you are only one person? Or can you become a community, permit sharing between the multiple identities? By doing that would you again become one person? Just at a different level, sort of like a city is one unit even though there are millions of different people that make it up. Are we just a city of ideas, each one just trying to go about its own business? But which idea gets to rule this community, or can it be some form of non individual government like a republic or democracy? Being a democracy of idea would be sort of cool. But I think I want to be an anarchy of ideas.

ME