Two Red Pills Please
I have these... scenes in my head. I don't know if they're dreams that I've remembered or memories. In one I'm very young, in Mexico at a cemetery with spray paint. Tagging tombstones like it would brighten up the dead. Another I'm watching tv, and I see a man eat a woman, literally. Ripping skin from flesh with bare teeth and a facial expression that says "pb and j lunch every day of the fucken week... - ____ - """ I think this is what it means to truly run away with your imagination. When you can't tell what's inside your head from the outside world. Until recently I didn't put too much into it. Being as young as I was, kids can easily get confuse and blur the lines of reality. But in my mid twenties I found it happening more often. Scenes I couldn't explain. The felonies against physics that I have witnessed. It just didn't make any sense. But I KNOW what I saw. I was aware of how very awake I was, how vivid, and clear the sight in front of me unfolded.
Besides those episodes I have dreams that I could have swore I lived. Day dreams I still get lost in. If I imagine a cloud tossing me a magic item I find my body reacting physically without me thinking about it. Like my body is just as lost and confused. Like it couldn't carry the tune to reality even if it was a single note that could be played by letting go of the tension I feel in my bones. I remember talking to a friend I hadn't seen for a while. He started frequenting the local Free Mason lodge and told me he was learning and studying. Aside from the meetings he started his own research in the esoteric and told me he developed the ability to read minds and hear thoughts. While he's telling me his story I could feel the look in his eyes. The same energy your presences carries when you witness something you know you couldn't have possibly seen. As he talked I could feel my head being swarmed in static. Like his madness was looking for more carriers or another place to stretch its legs. Imagination is a hell of drug. I don't always know if mine is leading me to a truth or elongating my sleeves so I can keep warm once I'm trying to hold myself together. But I know its been my best weapon for such mundane living. It's cost me relationships and any motivation in the workplace but I work with it. My writing doesn't mind it. And deciphering memories from day dreams has become a bit of a pastime of mine. If you see me talking to No One in the streets, just tell anyone worried I'm just practicing my poetry.
-DCR
XVIII
Knowing so much creates a deep pit in the core of my being like a black hole in my soul, and if I let it get to me—it might take over & suck me in. My favorite philosopher is Socrates; he claimed the wise person knows that they know nothing at all. But I know what that means to me. We claim we know nothing & humbly walk on; however, it is what I FEEL—that I claim to cogito within my experiences.
My imagination runs wild & never comes back home. And sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a fantasy or a trip that never ends…or perhaps one that has not begun. Either perception one takes (or gives)--the most of meaning I make bottoms out and leaves me empty. When people say that I over-analyze things is a complete understatement. I flip, reverse, sever, and turn them insidefuckingout. My ability to create things in my head is a saving grace in a sense. I am reminded of how human I am..especially—how Hopeful I am. See, when I conjure memories or sublimations of the future—or wishes—I transcend. Professionally, the type of therapy modal that I utilize is Play Therapy, or Art Therapy and I absolutely love it. Being in your own space and time within is the greatest gift of the human experience. Art is our soul colliding with our spirit and it is the language that they speak with one another.
We are all artists.
The idea of an imagination is a separate entity from consciousness—I think. Creativity and the blend of imagination have transformed our realities. That feeling I get when I feel like I am ‘somewhere’ else in my being, or outside of myself, is my imagination at play. I wonder what the thought bubbles and worlds I create would look like to everyone else if they could see them.
When I was a really young child, like 3or 4, some of my first memories were of me, my brother, and my cousins and this Winnie the Pooh tent. We thought that if you entered the tent that all of your boo-boos and owies disappeared and that everything appeared to be bright-shiny-new—everything that is wasn’t. In my mind and body it was real. Funny that 23 years later that experience sticks with me and I can see the green carpet, bean bags, perfect dolls and toys, and that—my scars didn’t come with me. Now, I know better than to create such fantasy worlds within, but I still maintain the kind of hope that created safe..almost perfect environments. My imaginations has almost convinced my logic and reality that things can be essentially good. The only thing that I fight with on this subject is myself, and I have realized that the balance of my inspiration and the mode of how I apply myself in life are based in the depths of my ability to inherently create things from Within.
Use it, or lose it. Dream. Imagine. Create.
-Sunny
Whirlpool
My mind is a whirlpool
Twisting and turning
In the watered down
Compliments,
Like bed sheets that
Didn’t keep monsters out
In the darkness.
My mind has always been
In the darkness,
Specks of light chasing
Each other like fairies
From forgotten dreams.
I always forget my dreams,
And the seams of reality
Begin to fade away,
Fraying at the edges,
Until I shed bits of thread
Onto the floor of reality.
My imagination is
Dreams left forgotten,
Thread left upon the floor,
Words left unsaid.
It’s dancing to music
Yet to be written,
And jamming out
To the silence
That is louder than
A sonic boom in my heart.
It’s echoing unspoken
Promises so that the
Repetition makes it more
Permanent.
I never believed in dragons,
But always believed in monsters.
I never believed in fairy tale princesses,
But always believed in wicked witches,
Now they are called Bitches,
And the stitches on my upper lip
Made me believe in bastards
Without self-control.
My mind is a whirlpool,
A downward spiral
Of beautiful disasters
Turned into
Happily ever after’s,
Soaked with believing notions
That seemed condescending
To other devotions.
It’s watching me fall apart
Like a train wreck
Puzzle piece
Warmonger,
And watching me mend
Like a seamstress
Of the cloth
That I lie on
When floating
Above the heavens,
Like Aladdin knew
What he was doing
And the genie is going
To keep granting me
Wishes.
There are other fish
In this vast sea
And freedom of expression
Means to keep swimming
When you feel like drowning,
To keep diving when
You feel like flying away.
I’ve never been one to pray for
Redemption and salvation,
But I pray for a way to
Fly away from this landscape
And runescape,
And keep heading south
For the winter.
Snow covered trees seize
Power over my broken
Branch tree limbs,
Arms and legs
Like roots without water.
I was always the slaughter
Of daughters and mothers
And brothers and sons.
My mind is my dark companion
That burns like a midnight sun.
The rays are smoke storms
Choking the lungs of
Anyone who gets too close
And doesn’t know how
To breathe in fresh
Inspiration and new sensations,
Like imagination is the
Image nation of
Nude photographs and flash!
My shame is a splash
Of momentary fame
On the tabloids of
My memory banks
Inside my whirlpool brain.
-Seraphine The Poet
September 12, 2013
Greatest Question Ever Posed?
The door slams. The moon smiles. There's a dog shitting on the concrete and a politician on a flat screen that actually believes in telling the truth. He won't last long, neither will the dog. Everyone in this house looks like the brand of cigarettes they smoke. The Marlboro Red smokers and the Newport smokers are eye fucking each other from across the room waiting for the last camel smoker to just pick a side to hang with so that the muthafucking revolution can start. I wonder how many licks would it take to get to the tootsie roll center of the first lady's credit score. I often imagine myself getting my first honorary doctorate degree from an all woman's online college. I would give my commencement speech at a strip club and have the after party in the same room only because the recession is real and saving money is the pooh. Naturally the speech would be streamed all across the globe and into every common room in every jailhouse all over the planet. Call it my way of giving back to the people who needs it to most. I will probably go viral. Nawww fuck that I'd go epidemic. But my fame would get cut short tho. I will be rolling down the street in my 2015 Prius, sitting on 36 inch platinum rims with soooo much king kong knock thumping outta of my trunk that I couldn't hear the the Camel smoker screaming at me from the porch to watch out for the dog shitting in the street. The last thought before the pilot light in my brain goes out would be the greatest question ever posed....how many licks would it take to get to the tootsie roll center of the First Lady's credit score.
-CPMAZE
Home
So I have arrived back from my trip to jolly old England. I am very glad to be back in the states which I call ‘home’.
Some of the things that I was surprised with while being there was the amount of intrusion that people accept in their lives from the Government.
Everywhere I went there were cameras.
Whether walking around city streets or driving around the ‘burbs’ they were very visible. In fact, whilst driving out there ( I would recommend a GPS device) signs for the cameras that are watching you are very prevalent.
They actually have the signs very conspicuous and if by any chance you were to go over the speed limit, you would automatically get sent a fine which you have to pay. No if’s and’s or but’s.
So you have no recourse to follow.
The police presence seems minimal as the austerity cut backs are devastating. What they lack in bodies on the street they more than make up for in surveillance.
It seemed to me oppressive. Very corporate and ‘big brother’.
At least they don’t have drones, yet. I think the USA will be pioneering that particular way of controlling the masses.
As an overview it was my impression that the UK (at least in the bigger cities) is as corporate and fascist as the states. The unemployment is horrendous. Almost ALL jobs are contract only. Which means that you’re disposable and employers can have a large element of control over you.
It was good going back but it was great coming ‘home’.
-TDB
Zip-line to the Suburbs
As part of the compromise inherent to living in a city as amazing as Denver, I spend way too much time in traffic. Stuck bumper to bumper, moving at speeds that would be appropriate for a leisurely walk, but are absolutely ridiculous for most motorized vehicles designed in the last century, I also spend a lot of time thinking, day dreaming, and imagining what in the hell could causing everyone to be going so damn slow. Having once calculated the percentage of life a commuter spends in their car, I care not to do so again. Instead most trips are spent imagining much more enjoyable forms of transportation, like zip-lines to suburbs, people powered buses that would allow people to combine an evening work out into their commute and generate energy for the bus or charged cell phones, suessian flying contraptions, and the most frequent: modified bumper cars that incorporate nerf dart (or rotten produce) launching systems to alert other drivers of how much they are failing at such a basic task. Making for a much more amusing commute, it is through my imagination that I am able to tolerate such a mundane and frustrating process day in and day out.
More importantly, it is only from the human imagination and ingenuity that the existing modes of transportation, technology, and so much of what we take for granted has been made possible. Having read several books on leadership and the importance of creativity to our continued inhabitance of this fragile ecosphere, it stands to reason that schools should highly emphasize any region of education that would increase children's ability to be imaginative, inventive, and creative. Sadly, because of continuous educational cuts for years, art, music, theatre, and countless other creative outlets have been almost obliterated in most schools, producing whole generations that who continue to go through the paces all while feeling as though they are missing something.
When it finally hit me, I had not painted, played an instrument, or really done anything creative since maybe elementary school, and had used up my college electives early on trying to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life, so art classes were an after thought that I had way too late. But gradually that sensation that drove me to create became too much too bare. It had to be fed. It didn't matter if it was good, if it sucked I could just paint over it, or erase it, or delete it, or fuckin burn it, it didn't matter, this was about the journey, the process, the release. Not noticing as the hours slip away, time really does fly when your are having fun. Having finally found / created a position that will allow me to both experience that myself and share that experience with others is a dream come true. Cognizant of how lucky I am to get to spend my time doing and sharing the things I enjoy with others, what will come from the intersections of these various imaginations fills me with optimism, excitement ,and only encourages me to keep imagining a better world and working to make it so.
-Joshua Genius