Time for a flashback from another life: 12 de agosto de 2013

Sitting on the back porch in the evening feels really good because it’s not insufferably hot and I’m hidden by green and I don’t have to get up early tomorrow so there’s time! Time for everything, for thought, for space, for the light to fade imperceptibly, time for lists and slow movements and excitement for what lies ahead.

…and every new page is empty and fresh and pulsating with unknown future thought, and it’s spinning crazily in time travel loops from another world. Say something strange, just say anything, it doesn’t matter if it’s relevant. The world is full of possibility, there are an infinite amount of things you can say, write, paint, research. There are billions of stories and people and questions, doesn’t this excite you?

Yesterday I bought a rat and all the necessary supplies. He is a dumbo rat, white with red eyes. He pooped on me when we met and I knew it was meant to be. He has really large testicles – Mom called him BB for “big balls.” And I named him Beelzebub because that’s another name for Satan and we can still call him BB Rat this way.

I’ve been realizing lately that the reason I am in love with artists and musicians (like Trent Reznor omggggggg) is because their minds speak in vibrations. It’s one thing to connect with someone in conversation – but to truly feel like they speak to you on an abstract level of quality, beauty, mind waves and cognitive schemata, with what they have created, there’s so much more to this!

There’s something so primitive and instinctual about the way my brain latches on to complex beats and the way sounds are compiled into rhythm. This is all I could ever love. And to understand that there is a brain, a human being, behind that creation and complexity, that just astounds me. That astonishment at another’s genius and my judgment of their creation as genius – that’s love for me. Maybe I’ll never love anything else.

The awareness that you are high and the ability to recognize mind changes and calmly contemplate them: this is so important! It’s such an insight into oneself, I cannot understand why anyone wouldn’t want to explore their psychology in this manner. It is an adventure, a journey of surprises and revelations and playing pretend.

You can never find it, only search for patterns between associations and connections in the mind, try to explain why they are the way they are. Patterns repeat, but not always. Sometimes they repeat with other patterns, a parallel universe, but sometimes not. There is no constant. It remains uncharted territory to be mapped by only the bravest of psychonauts. There is always something to be learned from a high.