|Suicide. Diary of a Dead Man. Now wouldn’t that just have been lovely? And to have ended it all with a number of entries, all having to do with how everything is an issue, how there are issues about everything when it comes to B and me. I wonder how that would have made her feel. I’d be such a dog to do that. End it off with pointing fingers. “This stupid shit made me do it.” Well. If you are reading this B and I’m not around anymore then please know; it was because I was an arsehole.|
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|It’s an interesting idea. To put a bunch of words together for people as if I knew I wasn’t going to be around anymore. Well, maybe that’s what I will do. How does that make me feel though? Knowing that that’s probably what would end up happening to this, it being read by the people I wrote about. I guess they wouldn’t really be all that flattered. I don’t think what I’m writing sounds very flattering. Might sound like I’m being a little too critical.
Perhaps I should make an effort to explain. Maybe make an effort to apologize. If anything I wrote sounded a little unfair. It probably is. It is. Not that that is how it was meant to be, not that I hoped it would stay that way. The idea is for the story to be tough at first. The idea is for the story to develop along some kind of line over time. I do hope that it’s a positive line, a line that improves, a line that tracks a progression towards something better. Even if it means any of my preconceived ideas, my opinions, my thoughts, my suspicions are all wrong.
My guess at what happens next, my assumption involving how it will end. Even if it means the ideas I have about the various people I talk about changes, if they become more human, if who they are starts to make a bit more sense. And I hope as time goes that that is what happens. More pieces of the jigsaw puzzle get put together, and as time goes the picture becomes clearer. If anything you read here makes anyone around me less than perfect, it’s not because they aren’t perfect.
My words weren’t meant to be a negative reflection on them, if anything they should be a negative reflection on myself. I’m all about putting down negative reflections of myself down on paper, the idea is to help me work through my issues. Resolve them. To the people that I include in this story I’d like to extend a big hug and a thank you, thank you for letting me use you to help me. If it causes any offence then I do apologize, I’m sorry if you feel I meant you any disrespect. If it feels like I’m trying to hurt you it’s only because I am hurt myself.
These words are a product of damaged goods.
“Deep stuff. Meaning of life stuff. Big picture stuff. I think I’ve touched on it before. Probably shouldn’t try to unpack it all here again right now.” We grabbed another cup of coffee again on the way to work this morning. And some of it came out. A little bit about what I meant by that. The question was something about the inside being used to understand, try to understand, the outside. Sort of an “As Above So Below” thing. Was it possible that all the living things that seem separate and alone and independent, well, were actually all small parts that made up a bigger body?
Are we all just a part of one big thing?
Would we know if that’s what we were? When someone has an experience of oneness is that what they realize? An experience of oneness as in a mystical experience, as in an enlightening experience. If you move beyond being something separate and alone and as being an organ, a cell in an organ in the body instead, does stuff start to make more sense? If that’s what we are and if that’s what everything around us is then what does that say of any kinds of conflict we can see?
Conflict between beings…
In our own bodies does conflict ever exist? If it does is there a reason for it, a purpose? Does it get personal? Should it get personal if on the outside of ourselves conflict between beings occurs, is it possible there is a reason for that too? Is it possible it all exists for a purpose? Does it only get personal when the mind interferes, when the mind that interferes is preoccupied with itself, preoccupied with self preservation, when the mind that interferes is unable to consider itself as just a small part of something else. Unable to consider that the conflict that occurs outside of itself is conflict that occurs between other small parts of a larger same self, a common shared something.
Unable to consider the possibility that the conflict might be necessary.
If there was conflict between your foot and your lung and cells from each of those came to you and complained about each other could you explain that one is right and one is wrong? Without a foot a lung could not be mobile. Without a lung a foot could not breath. Both are necessary, they need each other. And so with all this going on where does the mind fit in? And where does the body fit in? The mind must fit in somewhere, but it has a way of becoming all consuming. The thing that thinks it knows when actually it’s possible that it does not. I mean, if there is anything to it; if it is possible that we are not what we think we are, that we are all actually tiny pieces of a much larger thing.
Well. I think it went a little something like that.
I think that’s a little bit of what I meant. I think there might have been more. There was more. There was. There. There was something about a part of that that didn’t seem to come out right, at least not the way I meant it, at least in a way that made another point, I mean, if there is conflict going on in the inside of your body between cells and that conflict might serve some kind of biological purpose, or be a biological product, or a product of biology then it wouldn’t really make sense if your mind stepped in and said you know what; that doesn’t look right, or it doesn’t look nice, or it doesn’t look fair, or it doesn’t make sense.
I mean it would make more sense if something else stepped in and said you know what mind; this isn’t meant to look right, or it’s not meant to look nice, or it’s not meant to look fair, or it’s not meant to make sense. That the mind has no business being here, that it should rather preoccupy itself with what the mind is meant to preoccupy itself with and projecting that idea of an internal process into an external environment might look the same. And the same reasoning might apply in that as much as anything around us looks unpleasant or unacceptable it’s not what is perceived that is the problem – the problem is with the perceiver.
But there was more.
Or there was another point that could be derived from all this and that was something along the lines of the mind and the perceiver that resides inside it, and thoughts spreading like wildfire, thoughts burning constantly, thinking all the time and how the brain has its own ideas and in a way it’s just another master that makes us all a slave and that a big part of all this has got to be something that involves recognizing it for what it is, that it is just something else that needs to be thought about. That it’s necessary to think about not thinking or about an idea that involves being able to step outside of thought and maybe that’s where the value is in trying to meditate.
So I was thinking about that.
And then the last part involved trying to figure out what was happening in my dreams, because, they are starting to feel different. They seem to taste different. I mean they seem to have a different flavor. And I’m not quite sure whether it’s a nice taste. It’s definitely a different taste. And of course I wonder if the mushrooms have anything to do with that. And somewhere in the back of my mind I strongly suspect they have everything to do with that. But. It feels tricky trying to mention it because, I only ever wanted their effects to be something good. Something pleasant. Something positive. But here I am having to admit the dreams are decidedly unpleasant, if not down right creepy, and so I’m struggling to make sense of that except maybe once again; it’s not a question of what’s being perceived that is the problem…
The problem is with the perceiver.