Hemiechinus
Bluelighter
- Joined
- May 19, 2007
- Messages
- 346
Today I went to * and forgot my glasses and my meditation cd’s at the skate park: hopefully somebody will return them together. But it was a great day, I found out that I am indeed very provocative to the group mind, that I can break through people and show them light. I smoked almost 40 bucks worth of weed and smoked about 30 of it with a bunch of people, and generally tried to spill as much telepathy as possible into the woods of the worlds. The group who decided to roll a blunt with me had a being who had just gotten beat up by his friend in a gory gruesome mop fight? He didn’t look that bad though, so we got in his girlfriends? Car? I don’t think it was his girlfriend; she was really nice and pretty, too free. We drove around talking about I throw out infinity and you can FEEL The energy levels in the car mutate into a beautiful symphony as we’re all in total agreement and intuitive thinking and the little guy who gets me weed is dancing to my right, the girl and I are throwing back ideas and the guy know every internet/metaphysical connotation I spoke of, he was obviously a good brain. We all spoke together at intervals of non-egoist games but mostly they spoke in the beginning, and then we all spoke for a while in alien sounds, grunts, and socially uplifting vibes from the desert tribes the squalid ibes, the moonchild’s driven to madness and the madness driving the people. It was pure glow, and I couldn’t stop smiling, It really meant a lot to me that I could flow with people like that. At certain moments I was able to tap in the under consciousness, which is an actual human resonance, compared to when I was able to flow in the super consciousness, which is my personal reality field, completely spontaneous and forgiving and creative. The under consciousness combined with the super-consciousness provides the stereo-phonic experience of 3 dimensional language, meaning, you can see the very shape in your spiritual-read, electrical- brain voyages. I can control the human resonance so well that they all let of waves of positivity after my splashes, and I got to watch and contribute on their tales a little bit, but this really isn’t something I should do too often, they tend to have the reaction of time-lapse, and we’re trying to avoid time lapse.
It was absolutely wonderful.
The one thing that I must keep acknowledging is that it’s all myself, every little bit. Every particle is me. Every wave of meaning and feeling and sentiment and desire and empathy and telepathy and judgment is all me, I am the holy conduit, and I am the transceiver, the creator, the god, the demander, the fluid ocean of which the thoughts float like plankton to be absorbed and tasted upon the tongue of your neural fibers with the essences of electricity circling my mind like an Einstein haircut three dimensional halo I am THE FORCE.
I keep my brain’s reality circuits flowing like a garbled babbling mud-monkey doing snow cone angels in the rippling shower of starlight and myriad light-dazzled raindrops that stir the infinite expanse of the nervous system and epidermal reality, causing the flames of the inner-spirit, of the trinity, to expand across your Mind like pixie wildfires amongst skyscrapers with tree houses bending out like limbs from genetically altered human nature symbioses human intuition symbioses human LOVE connection with the Overmind of the Universe the Logos of DNA the Burning Bush and the Father and The Spirit of the Infinite and Time and Clarity and Enlightenment and Joy and Bliss and The Void and The lottery of deadened caliphates piping hot sup tunes in the back of every cerebral cortex spurns a churning promulgating wishing well, covered in thc-flavored moksha toadstools and tiny gnomes gleefully offering tiny bone pipes and breads the size of peanuts to be inhaled as though a single entity in the city the home the unity of your mind is saying here take me love me cherish me but remember I am but a creature an offspring of the well of graces of light and secluded serenity and when you allow yourself to befriend your own death, as a means to shape your own universe, you combine the alchemy of occultism and the mystic fire of wizardry.
I am a hacker, and this is my Metafesto.
I have seen a pattern, inside of a system, that tells me I have only one direction in which to go, and this is death, this is perpetual motion acceptance and re-logic tidal waves of creative energy, immersion into the underworld of the alien languages and slowly mating amoebas of neon serotonin dripping down the canals and sweating piping’s of Italian villages in the pyramidal privileged people, cleaning off the residue of my self from each and every determinant block universe molecule of natural mathematical formations in my moment.
I have welcomed a man,
I have killed a man,
He walked in,
And I have welcomed a man,
And I have killed a man,
He walked in.
I am the
I am
I am the
I am the voice in your head
I am your spit
I am your stomach
I am your sins
I am your desires
I am jacks colon; I get cancer, I kill jack.
I am cancer.
I am death.
I am life.
I am Creation.
And My Human Intelligence is perfectly aware of pure harmony, pure existence, it is almost like a level of pure unconsciousness with the moment that sings a song so exquisite and hesitation or question or half-addled schemes to side-step a fear disturb the various cacophonies and requisite overtones of a flying multi-mapped dragon to conquer your entire world.
I remember thinking vividly that the relationship in the front was antic and unnecessary, that if I wanted I could have unleashed myself on them and twisted the set and setting in a melting pot of electric flower bullets between operating booths in the matrix hovercraft, that traveled wide loops and columnar silken infinity signs all through the eastern world, the ancient old town of * more Montana-prone hokeynaddles.
The point of all art, all experience, is to show you your own focus, your own power, your own intuitive right lobe that sucks information from the void of dna from the void of the atom from the infinite space-time parallels and dimensions of pure energy that transfix and transmute ghost messages against the will of the older magic fields that determined the beginning focal frequency of infinity.
This is the only thing I want to do for the rest of my life.
I don’t need money. It’s a joke. I don’t need to live forever. I can get reborn, and it will be the same as this time: Memory of the infinity of human and alien space time unconsciousness will be erased and the ego will be formed again, only this time this particular universal equation will have advanced and the projected worlds of the zombie objective-to-gain objectivists with the constant spirals of dependency amongst denial grids imposed will have dissipated leaving only the act of constant refreshment amongst human rescourscing of internal power, of the Random Access Memory, that although semantically random generates the same local universal code, the green Forrest of 1’s and 0’s bumping the giggling tickle receptors in the child’s mind, it’s the simplest thing in the world because it’s the anti-convulsant of my heart blanketing the rush of information that the stars send like rivers of literary juice filling your dreaming sandy mouth with tasticles that stretch the limitations of the tongue dancing and frolicking into the rye meeting the catcher by the eye and loving the guy.
SMILE
Change love change loves changes loves everything.
The chakrastafarians that sleep like dumplings in your blood blossom and explode in your brainbuds, and you start having the ability to focus your mind perfectly in the moment that flows like a sesame twin on your other brain the perfect train of thoughts that soothe that groove that soar swift and smooth I have the whole book of migrations and I am the leaf with nowhere to go so I follow my own temptational cliff walks on the tailwinds of the ether scraping the crust of the regulatory elves in charge.
What’s even more wonderful: Every time I leave the house this happens. It started and stuttered and puttered amongst people all of my life and then it just got sewn into the hinges of every key maker’s metal rivets and seams.
I will never be someone else: I will always be something, until I am not, and it is then that choices are forgiven, wrung, and bought.
Forever Young,
Are my Divinities Sung.
It was absolutely wonderful.
The one thing that I must keep acknowledging is that it’s all myself, every little bit. Every particle is me. Every wave of meaning and feeling and sentiment and desire and empathy and telepathy and judgment is all me, I am the holy conduit, and I am the transceiver, the creator, the god, the demander, the fluid ocean of which the thoughts float like plankton to be absorbed and tasted upon the tongue of your neural fibers with the essences of electricity circling my mind like an Einstein haircut three dimensional halo I am THE FORCE.
I keep my brain’s reality circuits flowing like a garbled babbling mud-monkey doing snow cone angels in the rippling shower of starlight and myriad light-dazzled raindrops that stir the infinite expanse of the nervous system and epidermal reality, causing the flames of the inner-spirit, of the trinity, to expand across your Mind like pixie wildfires amongst skyscrapers with tree houses bending out like limbs from genetically altered human nature symbioses human intuition symbioses human LOVE connection with the Overmind of the Universe the Logos of DNA the Burning Bush and the Father and The Spirit of the Infinite and Time and Clarity and Enlightenment and Joy and Bliss and The Void and The lottery of deadened caliphates piping hot sup tunes in the back of every cerebral cortex spurns a churning promulgating wishing well, covered in thc-flavored moksha toadstools and tiny gnomes gleefully offering tiny bone pipes and breads the size of peanuts to be inhaled as though a single entity in the city the home the unity of your mind is saying here take me love me cherish me but remember I am but a creature an offspring of the well of graces of light and secluded serenity and when you allow yourself to befriend your own death, as a means to shape your own universe, you combine the alchemy of occultism and the mystic fire of wizardry.
I am a hacker, and this is my Metafesto.
I have seen a pattern, inside of a system, that tells me I have only one direction in which to go, and this is death, this is perpetual motion acceptance and re-logic tidal waves of creative energy, immersion into the underworld of the alien languages and slowly mating amoebas of neon serotonin dripping down the canals and sweating piping’s of Italian villages in the pyramidal privileged people, cleaning off the residue of my self from each and every determinant block universe molecule of natural mathematical formations in my moment.
I have welcomed a man,
I have killed a man,
He walked in,
And I have welcomed a man,
And I have killed a man,
He walked in.
I am the
I am
I am the
I am the voice in your head
I am your spit
I am your stomach
I am your sins
I am your desires
I am jacks colon; I get cancer, I kill jack.
I am cancer.
I am death.
I am life.
I am Creation.
And My Human Intelligence is perfectly aware of pure harmony, pure existence, it is almost like a level of pure unconsciousness with the moment that sings a song so exquisite and hesitation or question or half-addled schemes to side-step a fear disturb the various cacophonies and requisite overtones of a flying multi-mapped dragon to conquer your entire world.
I remember thinking vividly that the relationship in the front was antic and unnecessary, that if I wanted I could have unleashed myself on them and twisted the set and setting in a melting pot of electric flower bullets between operating booths in the matrix hovercraft, that traveled wide loops and columnar silken infinity signs all through the eastern world, the ancient old town of * more Montana-prone hokeynaddles.
The point of all art, all experience, is to show you your own focus, your own power, your own intuitive right lobe that sucks information from the void of dna from the void of the atom from the infinite space-time parallels and dimensions of pure energy that transfix and transmute ghost messages against the will of the older magic fields that determined the beginning focal frequency of infinity.
This is the only thing I want to do for the rest of my life.
I don’t need money. It’s a joke. I don’t need to live forever. I can get reborn, and it will be the same as this time: Memory of the infinity of human and alien space time unconsciousness will be erased and the ego will be formed again, only this time this particular universal equation will have advanced and the projected worlds of the zombie objective-to-gain objectivists with the constant spirals of dependency amongst denial grids imposed will have dissipated leaving only the act of constant refreshment amongst human rescourscing of internal power, of the Random Access Memory, that although semantically random generates the same local universal code, the green Forrest of 1’s and 0’s bumping the giggling tickle receptors in the child’s mind, it’s the simplest thing in the world because it’s the anti-convulsant of my heart blanketing the rush of information that the stars send like rivers of literary juice filling your dreaming sandy mouth with tasticles that stretch the limitations of the tongue dancing and frolicking into the rye meeting the catcher by the eye and loving the guy.
SMILE
Change love change loves changes loves everything.
The chakrastafarians that sleep like dumplings in your blood blossom and explode in your brainbuds, and you start having the ability to focus your mind perfectly in the moment that flows like a sesame twin on your other brain the perfect train of thoughts that soothe that groove that soar swift and smooth I have the whole book of migrations and I am the leaf with nowhere to go so I follow my own temptational cliff walks on the tailwinds of the ether scraping the crust of the regulatory elves in charge.
What’s even more wonderful: Every time I leave the house this happens. It started and stuttered and puttered amongst people all of my life and then it just got sewn into the hinges of every key maker’s metal rivets and seams.
I will never be someone else: I will always be something, until I am not, and it is then that choices are forgiven, wrung, and bought.
Forever Young,
Are my Divinities Sung.
Last edited:
