it’s so noisy in here. my brain is constantly seeking the deeper value. e-value-ating. it’s like non-stop. 28 years in, and i’m still hitting Ctrl+Alt+Del on my existence. every 6 months. i’ve had 28,000 versions of me. each one has died, multiple times. and i’m resurrecting again. still, no proper wardrobe, no 10-step serum ritual, no use of credit-card (cos they’ll suck my money out for unpaid car fines), no stillness.
but i’m more than that. i’m ungluing myself from my brain. my mind is constantly replaying scenarios and experiences that i could’ve optimised. it’s constantly scanning, analysing, processing raw shadow-data. converting it into enlightenment fuel. what is enlightenment fuel? it’s the Pain HP bar™ i need to fill to finally delete my destructive mind. it’s every experience i live that “could” have been done better. just. piling up. in the back of my mind. composting. turning into fertiliser. feeding the dark soil. for a new seed. a new vision. a new way of being in the world. where pain is not in charge. where lightness emerges. cos i’m cracking. like a motherfuckin’ egg. greg. breh. the light is about to explode. i’ve never been closer. there’s only so much i can crack. until i hit rock-bottom. over. and over. and over again. cracking new floors. cracking new rock-bottoms every time. cracking new frontiers. and boiling the egg.
this isn’t hope. hope is hopeful. this is. knowing. this is vision. this is determined. and fierce. so don’t deter-___ anything. deterrer. Diarrhoea. i’m riding the process like a drone. high above the valley. watching me below as i intuitively GPS my way through the darkness of the forest. eclosión. that’s the spanish name for a chick bursting out an egg. eventually the fruit ripens. and it must be eaten. and it doesn’t care about 28, 30 or 64. it doesn’t care about 100 build-ups. it doesn’t care about repetition. it cares about the angle. because it’s an energy. what i’m identifying with. it’s not “queer”. it’s not “skater”. it’s not “eccentric”. it’s god. i’m seeing it clearer everyday. everyday. i’m seeing myself more clearly. i’m seeing my darkness with deeper suspicion. because i’ve grown suspicious. suspicious of my mind’s stories. of what it tells me about myself. of its worries. it’s complaints. it’s scarcity. its issues. its problems. it’s anxiety. it’s radio static B&W bullshit. it’s not real. it’s noise. it’s fake. it’s social. it’s modern. it’s 21st century. i don’t identify with highly-processed 21st century reality idealism. i’m not interested in any left-wing robot PC philosophy. i’m seeking something 3D. real. physical. tangible. i’m heavier. i’m denser. i’m stronger.. i’ve been in a toxic relationship with myself. it’s ending. now. the veil is cracking open. like dusk. i’ve been waiting. forever. and it’s thinning. this isn’t yoga. this is droga. i mean drug. cos i’m a real drug. that’s what i’m realising. a nice, steady, avocado-sugar-like, drug. with no hangover. the hang-over comes b4. cos you’re there, hanging around. hung up on starting already. so get over your hang. and lets fucking go