Hello, my name is…
shit, forget what my name is;
it doesn’t matter.
My name is my name
and I am an addict.
It doesn’t really matter what I’m addicted to.
I’m not here to shock and awe you (today)
But, I am here for *you*
rather, for *your* benefit of knowledge through my madness and unfolding experiences of working my own recovery program and finding the solutions I need to survive and evolve.
Consider this an addition to the lore of junkie literature… if you can even call it that.
“Experience strength and hope”…
I’ve been conditioned through “the program”
to believe that a day without “using”
is a day I survived, succeeded, and usurped my devious “addict mind”
which is “true” in the relative sense. As addicts, we all agreed upon this notion and made it into a convention. But I don’t buy it anymore. I am hooked on nicotine, sugar, and melancholy, to name a few. My point is: my “addict brain” is still alive and I find myself without complete peace.
If Bill W. asked for Whiskey on his death bed, is there any complete relief available to the recovering addict? I believe it exists, no doubt, but there *has* to be a better way than wait it out in a church basement for 30 years until death passively removes you.
If some part of my deep-seated soul is still white-knuckling the wheel, are the 12 steps to be considered a “successful program”?
Comparative quality of life is much different from comprehensive quality of life.
I don’t want “my worst day clean is better than my best day using”. To me, that is utter bullshit.
In this notion, the 12 Steps have failed me, and Bill. Ultimately.
If I cannot lead a completely unburdened existence, than I would rather die with a needle in my arm than die of coffee-related stomach-ulcers.
Call me a lunatic or a coward,
and I’ll throw it right back at you. We are not so different, you and I.
Foolish and made of flesh, we both are.
I made it out here to bring a message of… hope?
No, no, not much hope here.
Plenty of rope, I’m spinning.
Unless you consider my more recent success,
“surviving impending death, for today”
but that’s every day. Every. Motherfucking. Day.
I don’t mean to make things sound tedious, banal, or regrettable.
Life is spectacular. I feel healthy and free- comparative & relative to my addict lifestyle.
When I realize how good it could be, if I just “figured it out” and “unlocked the deep mind”,
I am prevaded and nearly betrayed by an overwhelming sense of doubt…
even on the happiest of days,
I cannot deny myself a certain level of constant and misanthropy.
I despise my human form.
I despise yours, too.
(don’t worry, I’m getting to the love part. First- hate… *sigh* dualism is so drab)
For all the good humanity has done the world,
I wish nothing but swift justice brought forth upon us.
Bring on the plagues, the terror, the disaster, the chaos.
We sure fucking do deserve it, if you ask me.
And you didn’t ask me.
Nobody did. So I am telling. And I don’t care if nobody hears it.
I don’t feel this way every moment, of course. My mood is in flux; I get it all, all colors and all channels, clear as day and my antennae are as receptive as ever. Sensitive soul, I feel.
I find it easier to write about the things that irritate, upset, and depress me,
but I also enjoy writing to uplift, motivate, and inspire.
But, today, I have been doing more crying than laughing.
Through writing about my tragic-comedy, I am able to transmute negative sensations into neutral sensations (and positive sensation into neutral) through the chemistry of clear understanding.
One-pointed mind. That’s all I need. The razor’s edge.
Closer every day, yet my feet are still bloody.
I love me. I love you.
I look in the mirror and say,
“damn, I’m beautiful”
I see you and say,
“look at you beautiful people”
There is plenty of love alongside my inner turmoil.
They balance each other out.
Every day I survive one more.
There’s your dash of hope.
I’m here to address an illness of my own ideology
one verse at a time…
call me a philosophical physician
(or a masochistic martyr)
My negative symptoms have become clear-
What am I addicted to today?
I am addicted to wandering lust; between the want to travel to the farthest reaches known to no man, and the desire to marry every beautiful girl I catch the eyes of.
I want it all and I want nothing.
I am here and I am there.
I want enlightenment and I want annihilation.
I am uncomfortable, yet I am in a state of pure relaxation.
I am dancing the balance of imbalance.
So the next question comes…
what does one do with such a basket(case) full of problems?
The same thing I’ve always done,
pursue an *intense* re-awakening via consciousness modification. Pure evolution.
I have dozed off, accidentally, and I find myself needing a bucket of water dropped upon my head.
There are several ways to achieve this state:
There are mind-altering chemicals.
I’ve tried a lot of them in high doses. Alas, they are no sacrament of mine.
They are the manual to a tedious, complex vehicle.
I have learned a lot by reading the manual, but it hasn’t made me a much better driver.
Instead, I will go straight to the source: meditation, communion with the higher self.
My inspiration for this?
Certain wisdom traditions incorporate methods of meditation, isolation, and fasting into their build-up before receiving revelations and epiphanies.
Jesus went out to the woods for 40 days.
Who knows what he truly saw,
but his reports were nothing short of inspirational.
Messiah complex? Me? Oh God, no; no thank you.
I don’t care if the sheep find their salvation or their slaughter…
well, that’s a lie, I do *care*
but I’m not going to intervene more than I have to.
Instead of putting these animals into my pasture, I’d rather let them live in the greater pasture:
the mad world and all it’s tough love.
I want the world to heal itself.
I could care less if humanity is around for the process.
That being writ,
I have no intentions of becoming a Saint,
no illusions of turning into a messiah,
and no ambition to found a religion or a cult.
The “devil” beats man over the head with his own truths,
wrapped in the barbed wire of institution.
Institutionalized truth has really fucked our lives up.
Let’s tear down the wall already, c’mon people!
Where are the mystery schools? Why so many secrets?
I won’t ever try to contain my highest messages in a bottle, a church, a notebook, a blog.
I will merely express my experience through the channels I understand; language is one of them.
But, I am after the truths that cannot be talked about; they must be lived.
I have nailed my terms to the Lord’s door, I have edited and reposed many times,
honestly, I’ve been such a bother to the Lord that I am surprised Zeus himself hasn’t dropped a barrel full of lightning bolts on my head.
These are just silly little words I use to evoke an understanding. Don’t let the language turn you off. I subscribe to no particular religion. I sit within them all and observe their wisdom & their folly, alike. I am no better- I am wise; I am fool. I watch… listen… wait.
So now, I reveal the vision I had this morning,
of Christ telling his disciples to head off into the wilderness to commune with the divine,
bringing nothing with them but a walking stick and sandals.
I am inspired by this challenge to do the same.
I am logging my sickness and symptoms today
Tomorrow I will leave on a mission to find the divine.
I haven’t eaten any potent medicine in several months, and I intend to maintain that trend. I don’t need the manual to the vehicle.
The Holy Books have nothing to offer my direct experience.
Drugs are a fallacy.
The only chemicals I need are oxygen and h2o.
Anything more is a desire-fueled cop-out.
That’s right, acid-gurus and ayahuasca shamans- I am callin’ you out!
Your experiences and your medicine are relevant to a specific body of truth & knowledge & healing, yet Ultimate truth is free and sustainable, of itself.
It needs no additive. Any medicine man claiming to be a disciple of God and attempts to preach the Holy Word is, in my outspoken opinion, full of their own shit.
I am tired of living amongst the dregs of the chemically & metaphysically dependent.
All you so-called warriors and seekers are nothing without your medicine pouches.
This is a message for myself just as much as it is for any other true seekers.
I am tired of my own dependencies. I am calling them out into the air.
I implore you to consider the meeting between Ram Dass and his guru.
All of us “psychonauts” know the tale, how Ram Dass fed the guru many, many mics of White Lightning, and the guru never got high because he was already high. What really happened there? What did the guru really see?
I will be meditating on this meeting, consulting the Akashic records as they become available.
Spooky, witchdoctor voodoo…
I’m here to blow the smoke away, to dispel the mirage, to diffuse the illusion of “mysticism” and “enlightenment” as I grow to understand it, myself.
I wish to turn “mystery” into “mundane” and “mystic” into “common”.
Open source all truths! Let the world run wild with them!
This won’t be relevant to anyone other than myself, at first.
Through processes of literary alchemy, I will attempt to transmute my lessons to a worthy form for all to enjoy. I’ll try to keep the obnoxious new-age words out of my dialogue when I return.
I will come back with a story.
I leave with an excerpt from the Tao Teh Ching, no doubt some translation was lost from Chinese>German>English, but I still quite enjoy the riddle,
“Give up learning, and put an end to your troubles.
Is there a difference between yes and no?
Is there a difference between good and evil?
Must I fear what others fear? What nonsence!
Other people are contented, enjoying the sacrificial feast of the ox.
In spring some go to the park, and climb the terrace,
But I alone am drifting not knowing where I am.
Like a new-born babe before it learns to smile,
I am alone, without a place to go.
Other have more than they need, but I alone have nothing.
I am a fool. Oh, yes! I am confused.
Other men are clear and bright,
But I alone am dim and weak.
Other men are sharp and clever,
But I alone am dull and stupid.
Oh, I drift like the waves of the sea.
Without direction, like the restless wind.
Everyone else is busy,
But I alone am aimless and depressed.
I am different.
I am nourished by the great mother.” -Lao Tzu