Today, unusually, I took the opportunity to smell the skin of my knees - they were dangling in front of my face, so it was chance not to miss.
The smell reminded me of skin smells - of a day many years ago. The day after a first fuck.
I was at work, bored - in a meeting. Elbows on the table I rested my head in my hand and drifted until the smell - very faint, still warm and sweet on my fingers - woke me.
Mmmmm warm cunt, face held in soft thighs .... raised my attention; as it does now.
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Friday, May 28, 2010
Monday, November 23, 2009
Infernal tram-nation
A one-way path - is not what separates us (journey not yet made). The divide between it and us is not linear in time nor dimension.
The limitation to our perception is not in front of us or behind - its inside. Everything is all about - dimensions, time, probability - now, and then.
We are all and everything is much more - more and less than infinity and obscurity.
As we race through space my time, your time, relative or not is dripping, drip, drip, drop.
Pick up the paper, wack the dog... its barking mad, again.
Pxxxx
The limitation to our perception is not in front of us or behind - its inside. Everything is all about - dimensions, time, probability - now, and then.
We are all and everything is much more - more and less than infinity and obscurity.
As we race through space my time, your time, relative or not is dripping, drip, drip, drop.
Pick up the paper, wack the dog... its barking mad, again.
Pxxxx
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Aircraft - happy flights
A sensible comment on air traffic control - in response to concerns at work about different approaches to the issue of congested skies.
best to buy in an expert - bah...
who cares: let 'em fly their planes wherever they fancy - they have windows and headlights don't they? If the pilots could be bothered to stay sober they could look out and not crash into each other.
Give them a sat-nav and let them sort out where the passengers fancy going. Just fill up the plane and take a vote on the most popular destination... the majority will be sure to know the best places to go. In any case, what does it matter where they go, really, in the grand scheme of things what does it matter where we actually are, physically, during the poxy amount of time we are a conscious collection of bits of infinity on this planet spinning though time, space, probability.
All this regulation and government fiddling about - just let the fuckers do what they want.
best to buy in an expert - bah...
who cares: let 'em fly their planes wherever they fancy - they have windows and headlights don't they? If the pilots could be bothered to stay sober they could look out and not crash into each other.
Give them a sat-nav and let them sort out where the passengers fancy going. Just fill up the plane and take a vote on the most popular destination... the majority will be sure to know the best places to go. In any case, what does it matter where they go, really, in the grand scheme of things what does it matter where we actually are, physically, during the poxy amount of time we are a conscious collection of bits of infinity on this planet spinning though time, space, probability.
All this regulation and government fiddling about - just let the fuckers do what they want.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Neural connections
Hi some thought and experiences generated by a friends very vivid memory and by their saying "no, I think he is describing a journey" when I struggled to describe thought/visualisation.
The experience I have - that I just touch on - as my thoughts become more visual (also auditory, tactile and whatever the fancy word is smelling - NLP, cant keep it in my head ) is actually like that in a trip, more LSD than a day at the sea. Its also like what I think is called wakeful dreaming - a state just before sleep or just before waking when my conscious mind is able to influence the very vivid thoughts that are present in my dream state. Influence... well slightly and to a greater extent than I could with practise .... too much will and I snap out of it, too little and I slip back fully into sleep.
Anyway - they said, about the image, something about where we have images within us ( I suppose others might think from without us ) that are brought together to form something so vivid and beautiful.
A perception I have from wakeful dreaming and other experiences is that we have a phenomenal supply of images. Laid down as we experience new and repeated experiences - praps linked to the creation or maintenance of neural connections.
In some way the images may form some sort of library stock - being brought together to help generate perceptions of what might be - in the future or in terms of how we think about alternatives options.
Thought - in "words" - may be a short cut to the whole image (remember, including sound, touch, smell etc.). Its easier to use this sort of short cut most of the time - it does not take as much computing time and, like words themselves, thoughts can be taken to equate to symbols. Like symbols they can be arranged in linear orders to form greater meaning and sentences.... communication. Something it took me longer than most to do as a child - I never understood the point of words when "reality", (at least) 4 dimensional, and in glorious technicolour, was so much more useful... but then I spent more time looking at trees and clouds than communication.
I wonder whether we "learn" (acquire perhaps) the tendency to replace raw image with worded thought and then become less able to access that raw information - except perhaps in dream or, perhaps, in other states of mind.
An experience of taking LSD is that it stops the filtering of information for relevance. For eg. normally we don't notice the carpet beneath our feet. With acid you see the carpet (with hallucinations too to entertain and baffle) but at the same time every thought/knowledge/etc that has ever been associated with carpet is accessed in true colour, sight, smell and sound.
I wonder (I do a fair bit of that) whether, in meditation, there is something in the way that we allow thought and experience to enter and play around in the mind that tends too to allow access to the more vivid, deeper, true (non-symbolic), store of mind.
Praps in conditions like altzimers where there is damage to the neural connections access to information stored as symbols/thoughts is restricted - as the words or thoughts fail to come the context ceases to have meaning. I think its a common experience for people to "find" a thought or memory at some other time - I wonder whether the brain continues to try to process unfinished searches for information and finds that the images that it wants for one process are still accessible attached to another memory and associates them together - sometimes the associations are very accurate and others are more bizarre.
It makes sense then to keep laying down images - to notice life in a mindful way. Praps this is the way we see/perceive new events - they make an impression, create new connections or support existing ones. If, as it seems so many of us tend to do, we do few things mindfully then praps we are not making new neural connections - we feed what we see into the existing script and do not notice anything new... like the fact that its a new day, song, smile, touch etc.
So, being, seeing, touching, mindfully - its a way of feeding our raw data, the splendid soup.
That was a long one. And, needles to say, a fairly manic one.
On identifying triggers for depressive states - its far easier to do for manic states. The examples people give some times seem too broad; as if they were not really accessing, or getting the need to, the tipping points - the little things that make all the difference.
Take care, Px
The experience I have - that I just touch on - as my thoughts become more visual (also auditory, tactile and whatever the fancy word is smelling - NLP, cant keep it in my head ) is actually like that in a trip, more LSD than a day at the sea. Its also like what I think is called wakeful dreaming - a state just before sleep or just before waking when my conscious mind is able to influence the very vivid thoughts that are present in my dream state. Influence... well slightly and to a greater extent than I could with practise .... too much will and I snap out of it, too little and I slip back fully into sleep.
Anyway - they said, about the image, something about where we have images within us ( I suppose others might think from without us ) that are brought together to form something so vivid and beautiful.
A perception I have from wakeful dreaming and other experiences is that we have a phenomenal supply of images. Laid down as we experience new and repeated experiences - praps linked to the creation or maintenance of neural connections.
In some way the images may form some sort of library stock - being brought together to help generate perceptions of what might be - in the future or in terms of how we think about alternatives options.
Thought - in "words" - may be a short cut to the whole image (remember, including sound, touch, smell etc.). Its easier to use this sort of short cut most of the time - it does not take as much computing time and, like words themselves, thoughts can be taken to equate to symbols. Like symbols they can be arranged in linear orders to form greater meaning and sentences.... communication. Something it took me longer than most to do as a child - I never understood the point of words when "reality", (at least) 4 dimensional, and in glorious technicolour, was so much more useful... but then I spent more time looking at trees and clouds than communication.
I wonder whether we "learn" (acquire perhaps) the tendency to replace raw image with worded thought and then become less able to access that raw information - except perhaps in dream or, perhaps, in other states of mind.
An experience of taking LSD is that it stops the filtering of information for relevance. For eg. normally we don't notice the carpet beneath our feet. With acid you see the carpet (with hallucinations too to entertain and baffle) but at the same time every thought/knowledge/etc that has ever been associated with carpet is accessed in true colour, sight, smell and sound.
I wonder (I do a fair bit of that) whether, in meditation, there is something in the way that we allow thought and experience to enter and play around in the mind that tends too to allow access to the more vivid, deeper, true (non-symbolic), store of mind.
Praps in conditions like altzimers where there is damage to the neural connections access to information stored as symbols/thoughts is restricted - as the words or thoughts fail to come the context ceases to have meaning. I think its a common experience for people to "find" a thought or memory at some other time - I wonder whether the brain continues to try to process unfinished searches for information and finds that the images that it wants for one process are still accessible attached to another memory and associates them together - sometimes the associations are very accurate and others are more bizarre.
It makes sense then to keep laying down images - to notice life in a mindful way. Praps this is the way we see/perceive new events - they make an impression, create new connections or support existing ones. If, as it seems so many of us tend to do, we do few things mindfully then praps we are not making new neural connections - we feed what we see into the existing script and do not notice anything new... like the fact that its a new day, song, smile, touch etc.
So, being, seeing, touching, mindfully - its a way of feeding our raw data, the splendid soup.
That was a long one. And, needles to say, a fairly manic one.
On identifying triggers for depressive states - its far easier to do for manic states. The examples people give some times seem too broad; as if they were not really accessing, or getting the need to, the tipping points - the little things that make all the difference.
Take care, Px
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Doors of perception - healing in 5 dimensions
It is a year now since I went on a journey into space, time and probability. Since then I have glimpsed the same journey again, but not made the trip.
We, a fellow traveller and I, met with a profit - she warned us the risks of our adventure, furnished us with fuel and wished us luck on the trip. We took the potion, creation's great delusion - a flower of death - and waited for time to take us into a journey into sound and vision... that was as far as I had thought we would go.
I became scared, feeling sick - colours and sound twisting around, couldn't deal with with low ceilings, the people or the lack of air. We went outside where the footpath and the road, the shops and all of reality breathed in and out - colours changing, pulsing, spinning. The ground moved, sinking with each step like walking on an elastic sheet. The shop windows were filled with magical goods - the footpath, like a conveyor, never ending our steps took us nowhere though we walked lots for eternity.
I was blinded in reality but colours so vivid filled my mind - every now and then I could see and fear the streets, the cars, trams, bikes, taxis, buses, water - how could we walk when we could not talk, or hear, or think. I had to sit, to try to sit and not vomit as I breathed the world in and out of my mind like smoke.
We sat, transfixed in amazement, joy and terror, and technicolor time tripped around and sound danced spiral, paisley, patterns in the sunshine of the past and the future. People passed, echos of reality, looking in, looking on, passing by.
What have you done? what have you done? Time began to play, life passing by - all my past, present and future as vivid as day; a crystal clear, holographic encounter with my soul - laid bare on those streets, drooling - unable to sit, loosing the ability to breath.
Time turning, playing again, running to its ultimate, darkening, shrinking, freezing, stultifying, inescapable death. I shut my eyes, surrendered to the void, embraced death in fear, loss and horror.
Through a void, a compression of reality, through time and back to the start - this vision played again while my loved ones watched: calling "what have you done, oh no, what have you done" looking at me, vegetating, calling "what have you done" - my journey through time repeated again and again - though I may have died many times before I realised that this was happening.
As time continued, repeating, running fast, the snap-shot of life grew smaller until I could see life, time, reality, in its true state. Everything was a matter of an increasingly small, timeless nothing - repeating, repeating, repeating - the only speck of reality, siluetted, in an endless, timeless, dimensionless, void of improbability.
Everything was, as it always had to be, nothing. Nothing - life - ran faster, faster, faster. A vacuum eating a vacuum eating a vacuum - all of everything turning inside out at each and every point at the same time.
So cold, so lost, so trapped - a turmoil of ultimate fear.
So, we sat - heads full of universes, visions unimaginable but nonetheless imagined into reality. We span and shivered all through the night while all about us - through doorways into the madness, reality poked, drunken, violent, accusing, staring.
And - after hours we walked - me blind to any reality, colours spinning four dimensional spiders webs of fractals.
I'm not sure now how much good or bad that night caused me.
I do know that I was pleased to feel the streets beneath my feet and to feel warmth in my clothes - to see again and to hear. I am wiser for the journey and pleased to have returned to life however much I know, as I guess we all do, that life is no more real than that which we perceive and what we perceive is merely a snippet of time - dust on the window of a train from here to infinity.
Love and stuff, P
We, a fellow traveller and I, met with a profit - she warned us the risks of our adventure, furnished us with fuel and wished us luck on the trip. We took the potion, creation's great delusion - a flower of death - and waited for time to take us into a journey into sound and vision... that was as far as I had thought we would go.
I became scared, feeling sick - colours and sound twisting around, couldn't deal with with low ceilings, the people or the lack of air. We went outside where the footpath and the road, the shops and all of reality breathed in and out - colours changing, pulsing, spinning. The ground moved, sinking with each step like walking on an elastic sheet. The shop windows were filled with magical goods - the footpath, like a conveyor, never ending our steps took us nowhere though we walked lots for eternity.
I was blinded in reality but colours so vivid filled my mind - every now and then I could see and fear the streets, the cars, trams, bikes, taxis, buses, water - how could we walk when we could not talk, or hear, or think. I had to sit, to try to sit and not vomit as I breathed the world in and out of my mind like smoke.
We sat, transfixed in amazement, joy and terror, and technicolor time tripped around and sound danced spiral, paisley, patterns in the sunshine of the past and the future. People passed, echos of reality, looking in, looking on, passing by.
What have you done? what have you done? Time began to play, life passing by - all my past, present and future as vivid as day; a crystal clear, holographic encounter with my soul - laid bare on those streets, drooling - unable to sit, loosing the ability to breath.
Time turning, playing again, running to its ultimate, darkening, shrinking, freezing, stultifying, inescapable death. I shut my eyes, surrendered to the void, embraced death in fear, loss and horror.
Through a void, a compression of reality, through time and back to the start - this vision played again while my loved ones watched: calling "what have you done, oh no, what have you done" looking at me, vegetating, calling "what have you done" - my journey through time repeated again and again - though I may have died many times before I realised that this was happening.
As time continued, repeating, running fast, the snap-shot of life grew smaller until I could see life, time, reality, in its true state. Everything was a matter of an increasingly small, timeless nothing - repeating, repeating, repeating - the only speck of reality, siluetted, in an endless, timeless, dimensionless, void of improbability.
Everything was, as it always had to be, nothing. Nothing - life - ran faster, faster, faster. A vacuum eating a vacuum eating a vacuum - all of everything turning inside out at each and every point at the same time.
So cold, so lost, so trapped - a turmoil of ultimate fear.
So, we sat - heads full of universes, visions unimaginable but nonetheless imagined into reality. We span and shivered all through the night while all about us - through doorways into the madness, reality poked, drunken, violent, accusing, staring.
And - after hours we walked - me blind to any reality, colours spinning four dimensional spiders webs of fractals.
I'm not sure now how much good or bad that night caused me.
I do know that I was pleased to feel the streets beneath my feet and to feel warmth in my clothes - to see again and to hear. I am wiser for the journey and pleased to have returned to life however much I know, as I guess we all do, that life is no more real than that which we perceive and what we perceive is merely a snippet of time - dust on the window of a train from here to infinity.
Love and stuff, P
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