When your train of consciousness loses control

[Jabberwocky]

So, I guess I'd like a bit of second opinion. See how it spirals down, down, loosing control, I hope to die a honorable death? Any advice on this specific train of consciousness, trains of consciousness generally and tips for recording and editing such recordings of spontaneous thought would be appreciated. Feel free to throw in any nuggets of wisdom related to training my conscious as well. srry couldn't help myself

"An homage to the metaphorically helpless ones as well as life’s fornicate virgins, those most carefree of daydreamers;

Dedicated to those still wet behind the ears, the inhumane abstraction of our prepackaged everyday American form, but especially the identifiable, tangible American romantic;

In honor of those who, after taking a dive and falling hopelessly head over heels in love for another, these beings no longer quite capable of picking themselves back up again;

Concerned with those trapped by memory, barred from the possibility of their future, with nothing more than a one way ticket to Hell;

Sensitive to all those who journeys take them to the River Sticks, who must the steep descent, deeper and deeper and deeper into the abyss;

For those who unwitting wander into dangerous waters, pulled under by the Capital of Pain, love at its most pure, its most oxymoronic, contradictory and self-fulfilling;

To those with an eye for intimacy only a love can provide, those with a taste for melancholy;

For those diving down, down, down, into the abyss, drawn as if by the warm embrace of a lover’s bosom, such is the abysmal object of our love;

To a journey guided by humanity’s peculiarly innate ability to reinvent the self and forget what we have just learned;

Complicated by infinite processes of creation and recreation, those of the personal fantasy;

For the new now seems unrecognizable from the old, a de facto distortion of the universal, one True Reality, shrouded behind the veil by society’s Original Erection;

Tempted by a kind of Neapolitan Complex, positing our innate superiority next to them through the invention of facts and lies;

A warning against any embodiment of exclusive order designed to represent a mutually exclusive character separating people, our perfection next to their imperfection, our imperfection next to their perfection;

Concern with the exclusive vocabulary that makes up the facts and lies, which one may use to continue building and mediating upon ever more nuanced, ever more exclusivity, ever more self-evident facts, ever more complicated lies, and an ever more false realities;

Hoping to find those corresponding freshly delivered, uncharted fetishes;

Of things yet to come, facts and lies that are the making of foundational myths;

Harping on only those essentials that are required to keep the Truth in remission;

Exploring novel ways to derail the war engine formally known as Justice, discovering the new and rediscovering the old, the charity banquet that is, in truth, nothing more than the never ending maintenance of a fallible law and unnatural, imposed order, of propaganda related to the existence of Good and Evil;

A warning, for we won’t simply have continue to baring the weight of our erections, but that their weight will increase more and more, just as our lies will become more and more true as they’re internalized, as here one actually begins to experience them as one would any other truism of their life, so the lie becomes truth just as the lie had originally been molded from the truth;

Too, it is worthwhile to note how facts will likewise become, as we begin to better understood them and such, ever more transparent;

Concerned with the inevitable incapability of the truth being true and not lie, of facts holding any meaning in any sense except the common;

Facts are simplified, such erections and stratification, all nothing more than feeble, sometime blind and too often bigoted attempts;

Having missed their mark, they can do nothing but make pathetic grasps in the dark;

Even with positivity and optimism, although especially when there is a wholly unreasonable expectation, of making one’s escape, taking what others have taught us common sense tells us, fantasizing about the day we leave the monotony, blandness and boredom of our society in the dust, to rot and eventually decompose, while overlooking that we have only the tools society has endowed us with, this old morality, inherently involuntary and naturally coercive, becomes our new reality, a perception of reality tailored so we might cope with our reality, yet there is nothing fundamentally different about this new reality, one still built on fables upon fables, archetypes, control, in truth the result of nothing more than an instinct, craving safety and security, so seeking refugee from within our false reality, circumscribed by tall tales of unwavering devotion, voyeurism and bestiality."

p.s. Please excuse any typos. I've got a reputation to keep up, after all...

 

[New]

I understand the impatience of waiting to see how people respond to your work, but I would request in the future that you refrain from that kind of post, as it detracts from the atmosphere we're trying to cultivate. I've removed that post for you.

Now, as for your stream on consciousness, I'm going to assume you meant "Napoleonic" based on the context. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

Your struggle is a common one, worded a bit more fearlessly than most, though, with the ideas of violence and sex being intimately tied together, almost it seems with violence and war as a form of repression playing out on a global theater. I like that observation, and it seems you've thought about this a bit beforehand because it seems you've outlined a unified theory of death-sex interplay from societal bonds all the way down to individual people. I'd like to hear how close or off-base I am from you. The most important part of this type of piece is what you make of it, and I'd love to hear it.

 

[herbavore]

Ok, since you said the magic word

Stream of consciousness writing takes on a life of its own and tends, like a snowball rolling downhill, to gather more and more icy little morsels, in this case words, until it is a HUGE snowball and the sheer weight of it picking up speed as it comes rolling off the page at you can be daunting.

In this case, I love the beginning--all the dedications so to speak. After that, I'm starting to get lost because I, the reader, can't tell where you, the writer wants me to go. The critique is so broad. There are good metaphors and wonderful imagery but it is what it is--your stream of consciousness just poured directly onto the page. And that is fine, one thought tumbling into another. I enjoyed reading it as that--but since you are looking for comments and critique, I think you may want to go back and take all the rich raw ore that poured out and shape it a little more, refine some of it--especially the last paragraph which gets lost for me by not having at least one or two sentence breaks. I love the last paragraph and I think that you could just let the middle be that train barreling down the tracks without any editing if you work that last paragraph into something tighter.

I'm curious about the last phrase in the last paragraph--"circumscribed by tall tales of unwavering devotion, voyeurism and bestiality."--what are you referring to there. I love the rest of it, the description of only having the tools society gave us to try to construct our "own" reality and finding that we are as mired in the old fables and myths as what we are trying to escape; but what is the particular significance of voyeurism, bestiality and devotion?

Anyway, hope this is truly what you were looking for, otherwise I'm going to feel like an ass I just posted a poem on a poetry forum for the first time and it takes guts to invite critique. I found it very valuable.

 

[Jabberwocky]

Thanks for the feedback. Just wanted to say that. It's come a long way - as you say herb it started (what was before I posted that) really well, went a bit downhill (what I posted) and ended up coming back to something I'm a bit happier with (which shall be posted when I can get at on the other comp tmrw). A friend who's studying sanskrit gave what I have now a read and mentioned, as a whole, was exactly what you would call a sutra (sp?), a thread, one that might even help serve as a guide. Iono, I'll let you tell me.

New - srry about that. tbh I think I was a little out of my mind when I posted whatever you refer, as I have ZERO recollection of what you deleted :D

The most important part of this type of piece is what you make of it, and I'd love to hear it.

Ask and you shall receive. Just not right now Although I was super obtuse about it above, it's actually, in a certain, very real sort of way about heartbreak, a love I find myself romanticizing as "lost," you probably know what I mean. Lamentations.

And yes, I certainly meant to reference Mr. Bonaparte. HA! Neapolitan. Shit, that wasn't supposed to be about Naples