Here is my private Guantanamo: First thing in the morning, before the delusions set in, I am best able to see my situation. No wonder that I dive into the endless daydreaming. However, the cure is the cancer.
I write this as a confession; as a manifesto; as an appeal. Now, you dear Reader, may have no clue as to what I am talking about. However, with some exceptions, I suspect we all suffer from the same trickery.
It began early. Belief in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Good and Evil. I don't remember the process, I make inferences. It still runs on, though more sophisticated, adultish. In essence, it is endless Escapism. Anything but the Brutal Truth.
Perhaps it is the Voice of Conscience informing me of my particular weaknesses and shortcomings. I hear it most clearly when I wake-up. I have tried to listen to it, to stay in that state of lucidity, but I am a coward and turn my back on myself. Ouch. Lucky me, it is not insistent. It lets me have my daily fix of mental dope. From night dreams into day dreams, with the occasional blink of awareness.
In the movie "The Matrix", Neo has the choice between the Blue and Red Pill. This is the choice we make daily, hourly, second by second. Actually for me, I get the choice occasionally, always in the morning, always painful and frightening.
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About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
1 comment:
the truth is beautiful. it is the delusion that is brutal. the longer i turn from the truth, the more brutal the truth appears, when at long last and gratefully so, it does eventually appear.
the conditioning that has me convinced that my weaknesses are flaws and that i am flawed and that flaws are undesirable.
i have one armed buddahs on my mantle and they seem as happy as the two armed variety. i have angels with one wing.
i think to be unbroken is brutal. to live on a pedestal is brutal. to live in the fast lane toward some imaginary success or achievement is brutal. the truth is beautiful.
i recently read that the towns and villages and cities where we live, have one word that most describes the collective consciousness. for instance the word for new york is acheivement. the word for los angeles is success. (we are in a very big hurry, and we are very angry) rome's word is sex.
the town that where i currently live has a word. i beleive it to be : boring. an over achieving university town where the people are attached more to their pocketbooks than to their hearts. they are in a maximum security prison with their boring lives.
la conner, where I lived briefly was hum drum. it hit me when i heard my friend use this word in a verbal context recently. hum drum. the rain, the eyeore mentality that drifted into my conciousness after two months of drip drip drip. i'm tired of this, i realized; i want some sun.
so i returned to a boring town. which is better or which is worse is not really much of a concern for me since i have lived for many years outside the ken. however i am not immune; and if i remain long enough, the boring will bore into me and i will be walking about like a zombie. i don't intend to stay that long as i have a fairly accurate barometer telling me when to giddy up.
the most interesting news i beleive is that we can choose and unchoose on a moment to moment basis what we beleive about ourselves. we have been trained to believe that we cannot easily undo our past, our conditoning, our old tapes. however, once we realize that we can indeed, that we are our own author, we have a new tool to work with. i have recently decided that i am not only my own author, but my own editor as well. why should i defer this function to another and if i did defer this function; i would find myself editing others, which i want to be done with.
i tell my self that the sun rises in the west and pretty soon, for me, it is rising in the west. if enough people agree with me or if i can convince enough others that the sun is rising in the west, it soon will be written in all the books that the sun rises in the west. is this delusional. no, it is simply an axis shift. a shift in thinking.
the brain is very flexible, when we decide to send it love and blood by standing on our head. that is why in yoga, the headstand is called the king of asana. and the queen of asana is shoulder stand. walk around on your shoulders and you will see the world from a whole new perspective.
love, winnie
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