Incase you were wondering...

Incase you were wondering, I am very much alive and aware. I am always in meditation. That is to say, I go about my life consciously, as well as consciously unconsciously. Though, sometimes I do use the latter as an excuse to my less than occasional dryspells of inaction.

My life as of late? Woooo! My life has been very busy. A wonderful thing for me as I only want more of the business! You may think that I'll regret staying that when I am swept away by currents of business but hear me out, folks.

The moment the business becomes so much that it sweeps me away is the moment I will thoroughly know that all my effort and focus this year has not been in vain. By then, I will have accomplished something I never before imagined myself even being capable of. As of this moment right now, I can justly state that I've moved from the mindset of "Me? Do THAT? HAH!" to "I'm doing it!"

And if I am right now working on that something which I previously thought highly improbable of myself to accomplish, then I am totally capable of realizing this particular dream of mine... in its totality. I will reach that point of "Yesss! I did it!" And wow, what an accomplishment that will be for me since I was not raised nor involved with any people who thought in such a way. Pry me open more, dear universe, 'cause I just can't get near enough of yer lovin'!

I'd tell you exactly what I'm talking about, but Anonymous is my middle initial. ;)

Ye Not Olde Mindscape Lore

The following was intended for blogging on November 29th. I ran out of time and had to promptly leave, causing this blog post to remain suspended in Draft mode, and also causing the end of it to be, uh, you'll see. Anyway, hope it entertains. Or not. ;)

11/29 - Defeat is not something I am not well acquainted with. Defeatful mental constipation, too, is nothing anyone should bare. Except, of course, those with the insane mental capacity to handle such superphysical catastrophe, such as yours truly.

It is not without great sacrifice and much truth through which it is possible for me to relay to you the following story. It consists both of dreaming while awake as well as actual events; the only border between the two realities being my scope on things. Feast those eyes upon this rotten crop!:

3, 2, ...

My facial expression bares insignia for the drama occuring directly behind the fierce hysteria that is my eyes.

Monkeys! Monkeys, my friends, have broken into the not-so-guarded, entirely-too-open cave of my mind and ravished the very things that are me, spoiling what was left of my mind with their aimless shit throwing and bisexual games. They have disorganized the once incredibly neat piles of crap which defined me. The monkeys have raped the space which once so much belonged to me.

I watched them do their thing to me with no concern or will to take action against the occurance. To question my heedlessness to the quandary is futile; this is the ultimate entertainment!

It is right now impossible to sit across from someone while holding a steady conversation without either exploding with hysterical laughter or gnawing at the cheeky flesh surrounding my teeth. With, of course, hopes for a renovated outcome, unless I forget to hope for something.

I suspect a greater motive behind the scenario. Something is trying to come out, to be expunged and purged from my mind forever. Again. But the mental movements (bowel movements as it were) it is causing--what havoc! My friends, the World is at neuro-warfare, warfare of immeasurable scale!

You must tell every neuron to work together. Work together baby, work together. We can do this. Work. Togeeeeeth Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrr. r.

Shiiet.

Friends Beyond Time

I never knew where we were going, all I knew was this: I'm in the back of my parent's car. I'm 8. Eight! I'm getting old--oh no, not again! Ah, the dreadful feeling of age. We're going somewhere. Home, I hope?--probably not, not yet anyway. And the young sunset sky with twilight just above, how beautiful! But I've seen it a million times before already just like I'll see it a million times again.

And then, all I knew was this: I'm bored!

The resolve was simple: Bounce. In a car?...

Of cooouuurrrsse!

I zoomed out of the car through the liquid atmosphere and landed upon the nearest telephone pole to watch the vehicle my body looked back at me through pass on by. I leaped with great excitement from telephone pole to telephone pole, always ahead of the car my body was in, always impatiently--but patiently--waiting for the vehicle to catch up. Just as soon as the car would come by, I'd hop right on to the next pole, always ahead of the game.

Naturally, this eventually got old; I needed a partner to join me on my adventures above the streets. And out of nowhere my imaginary friend arrived. Slightly younger, but mostly shorter in height, he was a boy with dirty blonde hair who flashed some uncanny resemblance to myself. Together we would bounce like Sonic the hedgehog and Tails the two-tailed fox up and down the aisle of telephone poles lining the streets. This would mainly occur along Belt Line Road, near the cluster of roads named after planets and other astronomical matter.

However, I couldn't always find my friend. Sometimes it was as though he were suddenly snatched from our play, nowhere to be found. Regardless, after each playtime I would wish him well and tell him I hoped to see him again soon.

Fast forward a few years over a decade later to when I was 19 and employed at a bookstore. At the cashwrap facing the giant windows from which the setting sun's light poured through, I would wait for customers to arrive so I could put to action the extraordinaire of robotic salesmanship. I hated my job! But the rays of the Sun drowned out the dull, repetitive nature of the job, if only for a micro-moment. I danced in my mind with the warm glow of light particles reflecting from my skin. It's not so bad with the Sun's love at play.

A customer approached while I was still partially entranced. The sunlight engulfed him giving the loom of a bright golden aura surrounding his entirety. It was so bright I was blinded. When finally I got my focus together he looked at me perplexed as though he were about to ask, is everything alright? But before he could, we both found ourselves telling eachother you look sooo familiar!...

Come to find, however, we didn't share any of the same schools or hang-out spots, not to mention he was a year younger than I. In my school days I could be found either with the older kids or by my lonely; I was almost never with those my age or younger. It was unlikely that we had ever before met. Still, neither of us could shake this feeling that we knew eachother from somewhere... And I knew better with that mock-golden halo surrounding him that something greater was at play.

Both of us short of time, we exchanged numbers, I rang up his fantasy novel and we bid eachother farewell.

Sooner than later, we met. He took me to this lovely Thai restaurant named Jasmine's and introduced me to a whole new spectrum of beautifully colored, absolutely delicious food. I can still recall its crisp, new flavor and the rich environmental contours. Again the setting sun was glowing behind him, giving off that great loom I'll always remember him by.

When we recounted our predominate experiences of childhood we at last stumbled upon an experience in which we both recognized the whereabouts of our first encounter.

So, how do two people tell someone else that the two of you met at the tops of telephone poles where you'd chase eachother, jumping back and forth, across and through time in the setting sun just before twilight?

You rock, Devon. (^__-)b

You will understand at the rate in which you allow the understanding to come through you.

The urge to write flows down my head into my heart, through my tentacle-like fingers. Of course, from the remote percept, they aren't tentacles but instead parts of the shapeable 'me', though they do really resemble tentacles from the flowing-down-head-into-heart perspective, foreign and all. All jabber aside, I must first prep my flow which has not been exercised in... oh, long enough. (Feel free to skip down to the second paragraph.)

I have another journal I write in.

Another journal I write in.

Journals write in me.

Many a 'me' I have and do have.

Why bother asking why? It's been a while I know, dear internet. But Internet, you see, it is I that has been a while rather than my not writing in this journey... journal.

Alright, I think I'm ready to flow. Still rusty but once my gears roll I should be fluid enough.

Gathering my thoughts I find myself incompletely in sync with something I cannot quite grasp, something that is instead grasping me from afar. Like a terrible distance between the definable me and the indefinable self. As a child and young adult, holding the said thought would thrust me beyond the conceptions of being away from or towards any "thing" in particular. Rather, it put me in a place neither here nor quite as far away as one likes to imagine things as being like oneself--that is, quite vast and, as it were, far from reach. It was a place I can only identify as being as close to "Home" as one can possibly be whilst enveloped by the physical form.

I find myself forgetful of yesterday's so-called discoveries and dramas. I find myself forgetting realizations that once astounded me and purified me so intensely of my unforgiving cynical personal and world views. I find myself in a sort of dreamless sleep where only the neurons of my prison fire back and forth utterly useless and fragmented information, much of which is not even my own. Searching for something solid to cling on to, I wander around my wonderings to the only thing which logically ever truly seemed to make a difference. Might this be the result of my long gone substance abuse? (Nothing unnatural, mind you.)

Yet just as quickly as the question materializes through scenario manifesto, the thought evaporates as though it were dried up by something not quite beyond me, but not quite my definable self either. As though the realness of the situation were laughing at me for being so blatantly ignorant to what It sees as so obvious. And then I tell myself, But I have known these thought patterns before! Surely there is something here to recognise that might lead me away from this state of being, this 'here' I find myself in more and more.

Away from "here" to where, exactly?

The question tamed my mind, so I gave up. Silence is far more interesting anyway.

Of course, almost instantly I fell back into that old, familiar place I have been falling back upon almost unendingly throughout my life. That silent, mazeless and thoughtless place that is always colored in a particular shade of electric blue-cyan-indigo, with circles upon wavering circles of endless waves. I suppose it breathes in and out like I do but at a much faster rate than I care to notice.

Drifting, drifting, further away from any'thing' and further into this apparent no'thing' of comfortably pulsing light. Save for the humming of electricity in my head, there is all but silence and the winds of the atmosphere whirling around my shapely form. The warmth inside me grows. Finally, comfort is realized, and then let go of.

Everything slows and droops away to the rhythm of silence. Silence.

Emptiness. . .

. . .

. . .

And there it was. Right in front of me the entire time. Right under my damned nose. IT wasn't laughing, IT didn't even exist! I set myself up, and I was laughing at myself. And now I was understanding something so apparently obvious I found myself astounded that I cannot recollect ever reaching this conclusion beforehand.

When there is no where to go, no thing to do, no thought worth bearing, no sound worth listening to, be still.

A new view for the same ol' do.

"Skydiving.BlogSpot.com" was taken and so were a myriad of other names I thought to be a kind of galactic cool. Boy was I shit out of luck. This in turn made me wonder if I ever was the so-very original individual I used to proclaim I was--to no one in particular mind you, for my very existence was crested in the newness I brought to this world. (Hah!) So me being the human I sometimes am, I gave in to the American Dream and ripped another's idea, remixing it ever so slightly to the beat of my own ideal. Behold MyElasticSky (not Eye, as in the Chemical Brothers track) dot BlogSpot dot com!

This should be fun...