Morning Notes

What is the nature of consciousness

“Ones ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are to interpret Nature”

Spiritual consciousness is difficult to define

“Don’t stop to think of words but to see the picture better”

Great minds move us forward, although not on their own accord – Time does not allow for the natural process of deep insight, except in rare cases, to be completed by one person in one lifetime – but with the help of synthetics, experimentation in substance, sexuality, other physical modes of progression, those great risks in which only our immortal sense of consciousness benefits and not the delicate body, only with the assistance of outside catalysts can the common genius prolong perfect death.

“They say that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains”

Native thought, primordial thought, the original and therefore most interesting insight into Nature – our visions which we carry around in our head like memory, our consciousness, not an imitation of something else boring and unoriginal and rarely worth more than that which has already been done better…

“record epiphanies of the day”

see the picture and describe it

“This is one mortal world we’re in, and this is the one and only chance to write it like a bible”

Refer to Her

Strictly speaking
self expression
an
I can do this
so well
sort of attitude
a uniqueness
I utter
the finest
verbal
drool
my dear
mouth
has marked

my words

In search at sixteen
for relief
from
teenage drama scenes
and bitter
romance flings
words key
to my recovery
from young
adolescent
ramblings
and reality
jabbing me
in a broken-hearted
stupor

I wrote
in diary code
my over
dramatized
entries
of love
and similar subjects
the beginning
of madness
(I will not cease
from recording

The goal
of my whole
being
is write
in possibility
of lasting immortality
like an attempt
at harpooning
in one long shot
Leviathan
the sacred mark
of my
beating
all existing
still in extinction
fossilized
in art magazines
or perhaps
in other heads
a family conversing
over half truths
echoes bouncing
on numerous sheets
of white tree

Walk old fingers
around the yard
play
fetch the word
take an ink leak
here this
everyday activity
such habitual
dependence
fingers
play on keys
or pen

That is
to say
this must be done
everyday
regardless of
power
that comes
but some
may not understand this
yet

now
silence is on hand
with me
and evening
blooming in dark
an open window
airs out space
in room
fan chops away
too
and
everything
thinks
about
every
thing
and
something wonderful
wafts in

Love is love is
love
deep down
all good
has challenges
stays good
in fine balance
this
collection of written
words
knows all the
yous
and clues me in
on this
run through
of feet walking
life
full of gloom
pity
guilt for
the gone money
and the questions
what to do
next
adapt kindly
find an outlet
and get it out

Untitled

An origami in the palm
of your hand and
gently you unfold me,
peeling creases apart.
I flatten and grow until
each pressed fold
becomes one whole sheet.

Relief

If I could write, I'd hope it would be like this bank teller.


"And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea..." - T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

July 11, '54

“Love. He is our deepest self. Mysterious, actual, delightful and sorrowful at once, full of gentility and imprudence, a beneficent spirit, a god acting thru human masks. He is the same in all, neither man or woman. We all have the same sense of bottom self. He is the solitary.

Thus love others as the self. We are incorruptible… The god survives. Love is complete. There is more than can be given. None is wasted no love is amiss none goes astray none perishes… It never lacks because it is All. It comes on the mind in visions. Watch for it coming! It enters the house of the body without your seeking.” - Allen Ginsberg, Journals Mid-Fifties 1954 - 1958

on Words

Neal, he’s getting at this idea of meaning and origins of meaning on a personal level, like our associations – be it positive or negative both or none – where and what words and phrases do:
“Play some Viennese Waltzes”
“Aw man, you don’t wanta hear Viennese Waltzes”
“Oh, I really do”

Assured of the thoughts in one’s mind as an absolute impulse to be trusted, arising from connections - be it positive or negative both or none - impulse none the less arises in self from somewhere meaningful…say, words that make phrases that make ideas and usually we don’t give any thought to what sense we’re actually making of it all:
“The sun is up in the sky”

But there is no up or down objectively, rather the concept is unsound: UP for me is not the same for you, were you to be upside down, etc…

The feelings and emotions one understands to fuel words are in fact contrary to the outcome of the words, and actually the producing effect comes not from the inside out but outside to inside, physicality into mentality, hand to trigger, eyes to senses –

“Not that I had that feeling when I read it, but on the contrary, that’s the words that produced it” -Neal Cassady

Pleased To Be Here

"We must learn how to handle words effectively; but at the same time we must preserve and, if necessary, intensify our ability to look at the world directly and not through that half opaque medium of concepts, which distorts every given fact into the all too familiar likeness of some generic label or explanatory abstraction." -Huxley, The Doors of Perception