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Calamity11:24pm monday, 14th april
What shall we do with all the suffering that goes on, but make some art? Wring the pain from inside our bones and distill ourselves some sacred ink, some holy watercolor, where upon the blankness that is tomorrow we spell some poetic fantasy, some painting of the inside of our soul... The Dreaming has a flipside, which one must master, too: to be able to breathe the harsher air, for when one is in the heights, it is rarefied and cold, clawing you as you inhale it. And is it worth it? Friend, if all there was was the pain, it would be well worth it. Cherish the experience of you growing stronger. Shrink not from the test. For even this, even calamity, is a gift.
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e. e.12:45am wednesday, 9th april





 - e. e. cummings

This is one of my favorite poems, from one of my favorite poets. Really, the only happy poet I know of that was any good (well, maybe Emily Dickinson was happy at times, too...). Notice on the chopped up phrase "a leaf falls", how your eye actually follows a path like a real leaf falling. Love it. Here's a link of e. e. reading a couple of poems. Enjoy.

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Touch4:28am friday, 4th april
I touched the hopelessness today. It was not like back when, as a teenager when thoughts I entertained of leaving this world. That time was perfectly described by Albert Camus: that to continue was just not worth the bother. This was different, as if the world’s walls were closing in on me, that there was too much that was out of control, and my soul were abandoned, left to itself in desolation. I think I may understand why Zachary Odette chose to exit. But I cannot go that way, no matter how shut the future seems to be. All it takes is one good day to turn it all around, and really, things are nowhere near as bad as all that. Even when the pattern matcher of the mind can only see the negative of the entire world: go one more day. Dawn is sometimes surprisingly close to coming.
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Meant2:00am saturday, 29th march
Yeah, going from ultimate intensity of consideration, the AI, I suppose now that I can see writing the book was a ramping down. To this, just ease, I suppose. I mean, I still have a day job, and there are stressors there, but it’s really not a comparison to thinking so hard it is literally painful. I just recently realized this, while twiddling my thumbs thinking that I should be doing something, something meaningful: but this was it, what I should be doing is relaxing, wherever I could. Maybe (probably) something is in the pipeline, and I’ll have to ramp up again; so I should chill as much as I can while I can. Not to think ahead to a future who knows what it will be, not to think too ponderously of the Event a little more than a year now, in the past. Just to be, not needing any other reason to exist, at all.
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begin4:29pm tuesday, 25th march
all the days are strange
i being carefully poured into the pathways of the righteous
what subtle balance by which all things change
as careful as the fingers of destiny
look: we will prosper and learn the calculus of having
we will forget forgetting and celebrate the infinitesimal victories
for we are born in fire, we are starstuff
the energies we are made of have not forgotten their brilliance
to let paper cardboard prophecies drift down the stream
to unfold when the waters saturate them soft
and flowers where footfall tread
i have seen myself begin

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Black Iron Prison5:18am friday, 21st march

This reminds me a lot of when I had the visions of the Black Iron Prison:

Click above to get a larger version.

No, it’s not exactly what I saw, but man, methinks someone else saw something like I saw.

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New Book Copy2:39am saturday, 15th march
True story: I found the secrets of the universe. Or did they find me?

Does it matter to you what the meaning of life is? Friend, give me a good read, and maybe you'll be satisfied. Do you ever wonder why life can be unfair sometimes? Pick up these pages, there's an explanation. And why is there pain at all? The answer, it is written, here in this slim volume. There's also a search for what existence is that goes deeper than anyone's ever dove before, more fundamental than the old favorite, "I think, therefore I am." And the context for all that we shall see turns out to be a litle thing called the War in Heaven. A war in eternity. And everything, just everything, makes perfect sense if you really know what's been up, up there.

Touched upon is life, death, Heaven, Hell, truth, pain, the beginning and end of the world, Jesus Christ, Lucifer, angels and demons, secrets, lies, and love, true love...

And there have been others before me who believed that Judas Iscariot was innocent of the crucifixion of The Lord Jesus Christ. But they haven't seen what I've seen. This book is a tribute to him, to try in the smallest part to amend two thousand years falsely accused of deicide. And this book is a doozy.

It's crazy. It's dense. But once you start picking away at the pieces, the grand mystery unfolds before your eyes, your perception. Don't you want to know why? Why you always had that feeling in the back of your mind that there must be something better than what we have ever experienced, and could never articulate just what it could be? That there is something not right about the world, even as we marvel at its sometimes overarching beauty? This book is for you. Miraculous and true.

O what I have seen! How amazing is this all, o me, o life! You were meant to be here, right now, right there, reading these words. Make the most of it, make the most of life! Believe, for the Beginning Is Near!

All of this actually happened... and you will see it is the sign of our victory, when with such joy we proclaim, "Walt Disney is God!" How we have always, already won.

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Past Imperfect9:16pm tuesday, 11th march
I don’t know when it was that I began noticing imperfections. But there it is, I can’t watch live events without almost cringing whenever there is even a possibility of error. Misstatement, misstep, the wrong note, the wrong placement. I turn off the sounds and try not to look when people give their acceptance speeches at awards shows. I really hate it when the music turns on to “play them off”. The air is too pregnant with the possibility of... I don’t know, exactly. It seems like a ripe field for accident. I remember that feeling as a child, of, “I can’t watch”. I thought I outgrew that, but apparently it has come back. It’s different though: nowadays, I know the look of a train wreck. I usually have seen people making those mistakes. And now, it’s sort of a hyperfocus on them all. Is this growing old? I feel so bad for them, when they fumble in front of millions, or whatever number, on stage. Maybe that’s it? No one has a take 2 in real life. And I hate to see wasted effort.
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prize2:49am friday, 7th march
i will prize an ordinary fate
i will align my guidewires with the light
where the shadow touches the foretold
even wading in despair must i go on
at the stillpoint, an unuttered hope
and a day may be epic in how it’s wasted
to bathe in an ancient wine
without error i solve the dream
swimming in the sky, swim to the light
the secret shown in darkness
i have breathed the air of time
and then, my eye is tired of seeing
but nowhere is beyond the reach of song
my heart to sound an ocean wave
my love to touch the end of days

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Heaven’s High2:44am monday, 3rd march
Buddha said that desire is the cause of suffering. Well, not exactly. Turns out that that’s a rather poor translation, and that “suffering” is more like “dissatisfaction”. And I’ve been going through something like that. Maybe it’s like what David Bowie sang about Major Tom: I’m “strung out on Heaven’s high”. After you’ve hit the heights, the only place left to go is down. I’m waiting for something to happen, and maybe it will, but maybe that kind of time of my life is over, and there is not the major circumstance left for me to experience. Or maybe this “dissatisfaction” is what I’m meant to feel, and like so many things, I will learn later exactly why I’m going through what I’m going through. Maybe I’m overthinking the whole thing. Maybe this is the gateway to the normal. And as with all things, I should simply be thankful for whatever comes.
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tap4:46am wednesday, 26th february
miracles come not by any act of force
but you do have to mean it for it to happen
the cares of my life drift like tiny boats on the water
i have no right to feel the pain anymore
time is a third person future perfect, and no one and never
there is no one to surrender to, tired of fighting
the good fight can wait for a day or two
been too busy with the washing of the dishes
the Wheel it turns and we face the same day again and again
the utter transcendence underlying everything whispers
but the revving of the rush hour engines drowns it out
how can we possibly want more? and yet we do
that desire is the cause of being unsatisfied
we have always known this brute notion
it is too much work to make everything effortless
still, i find i am warm in my bed at night
i have not seen it all, even at my most jaded
maybe just to gently tap everything with a stick
for i know i am blind when i complain
and miracles come not by any act of force

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