devin - ghost

How, everybody?
How about a body at moonlight
How about a body at home
How about a body at moonlight,
How our body's alone
I don't want to bother your moonlight
I don't want to bother your soul
I don't want to bother your moonlight
How our body's alone
Say, Cold
Cold,
Cold.
How about a body at moonlight
How about a body at home
How about a body at moonlight,
How our body's alone
I don't want to bother your moonlight
I don't want to bother your soul
I don't want to bother your moonlight
How our body's alone
Say, Cold
Cold,
Ghost.
Tonight.
Bathe in the light…
It's alright.
Say, Cold
Ghost...
Ghost...
I'm out of body at moonlight
I'm out of body at home
I'm out of body at moonlight
How our body's alone
I don't want to bother your moonlight
I don't want to bother your soul
I don't want to bother your moonlight,
How our body's alone
Tonight, tonight.
Soothe your mind.

йес, бе!

Деси намери рийдъра!

винаги

Заблудила съм се.
Не е самовнушение.
Тя винаги е истинска.
Но испанците са по-прави от сърбите.
Защото тя е липса.
Пространство и празнота.
Да, всички космически филми са любовни.

lucid dream journal 2

Really foggy lucid dreams, I was very tired.

I had the waking up within the dream phenomena for the first time tho which was fun!
Ehm, all I remember was:
1. I was trying to talk to random people about my bachelor thesis and it worked - they told me stuff I hadn't figured out.
2. I asked my mom what would make her happy? She replied: holding two baby gloves (meaning my son's and his little friend's)
3. I told a guy in a shop he was beautiful - he was an old guy, and he was reeeeally peculiar, and I told him he was beautiful cause I was amazed what my own imagination created. Everyone around started clapping, haha. Me clapping to myself, ain't I egocentric?
4. I was showing a girl at home how flying around is a piece of cake. She asked: "Well, what if it's a terrible dream?"
I told her: "Well, then you jump off the window, and kill yourself."
Which was funny cause I think life is a dream, but killing yourself in real life would be considered insane.

I think that's it. Really chaotic this time, I should sleep more.

i discovered that if you don't trust the dream and start pushing toward a certain goal, things around you totally screw up. you wanna see your dad in the dream but all of a sudden you end up in australia (that's dream reality, totally illogical) and you're mad cause you couldn't see your dad. if you were just enjoying the trip to australia, everything would've been fine. just go with the flow, and know that life / the dream ALWAYS surprises you.

сарва бхутани ча атмани

П.: Преди три месеца Шри Кришна отново се появи пред мен и ми каза: „Защо ме молиш за ниракара упасана? Себето е във всичко и всичко е във Себето (сарва бхутешу ча атманам сарва бхутани ча атмани).
М.: Това съдържа цялата истина. Дори това знание е индиректно (упачарика). Всъщност няма нищо освен Атман. Светът е единствено проекция на ума. Умът възниква от Атман. И така, Атман е Единственото Битие.
П.: Все пак е трудно да се осъзнае.
М.: Няма нищо за осъзнаване. Той вечен, чист, буден и свободен (нитя, шуддха, буддха и мукта). Той е естествен и непреходен. Няма нищо ново за постигане. От друга страна, човек трябва да се освободи от невежеството си. Това е всичко.
Това невежество трябва да се проследи до източника му. За кого е това невежество? За какво човек е невеж? Има субект и обект. Тази дуалност е характеристика на ума. Умът произлиза от Атман.
П.: Да. Самото невежеството не може да съществува.
Най-накрая той се отдаде, казвайки: „Също както докторът научава кое не е наред с пациента и го лекува според диагнозата, нека така стори и Бхагаван с мен.”
Той каза също, че е загубил всякаква склонност да изучава книги и да се ръководи от тях. - Разговор 104
- Рамана Махарши

паралелни спомени (николай николов)

напоследък се събуждам нощем студен
и издишвам мисли от лед.
издишвам мисли за теб.

вдиш-вай-ки вся-ка се-кун-да,
бавно се уча наново да дишам,
часовникът ме влудява,
а в лудостта си се питам -

ако замразя цялата стая с дъха си,
ще спре ли времето тук?
ще се събудя ли в някое бъдеще,
в което животът е друг:
когато науката дава отговори вместо въпроси,
когато ще мога да знам
какво да направя
или най-добре
как
да
забравя?

тогава притварям очи
и пътувам между световете,
които ти ми разкри.
а там някъде паралелното ми "аз"
е щастливо
(и спи).

из the destruction of small ideas

За невъзможното трето (Cadaurus)

ако да - ще бъдем
ако не - ще пишем
няма изход от идилията

из Accidents In Mutual Silence

мда

- Непреходно ли е?
- Не.
- Непреодолимо ли е?
- Не.
- Тогава? Какво чакаш?

lucid dream journal 1

This morning was phuuun, phuuun! I had two lucid dreams:

Dream 1

I go into my dream body: I'm at home, my mom is in bed. I rub my hands, look at them, this moment is always exhilerating. I try spinning so I can stay in the dream. My mom is not very surprised, I often do it in real life so nothing new here. It's dark outside and I don't like it. I start snapping my fingers towards the window and saying: "Light! Light! Light!" and the sky is getting lighter. My mom, however, gets mad:

"Light, light - what is it with you people with this constant longing for light?!"

(Philosophical, eh?)
It didn't get totally sunny the way I wanted it though.

Then I hear my son laughing, I see him sitting on a chair and pick him up - he's like 2 years younger, and I'm like: "Oh my Goooood, Yoyo, you're so small and light!"
I was so happy to see my baby son that I awoke.

Dream 2

I guess it was a WILD cause I got into my dream body, I was at a secluded area somewhere in the mountains - hand rubbing and looking again, and I decided to fly over the trees. I flew over a city to a sea shore and a beach. Then it got very dark, I was at a pool or something, sitting next to a chubby aging guy who was pretty happy and cynical. I asked him:
"Who are you?"
He was like: "Well, isn't this the scariest question of all? I'm the answerer. (Отговорчикът!)"
Then I saw my son in the water and asked him:
"Are you happy?"
"Why?", he replied.
It's getting more and more philosophical, and I love it. "Why" is a great answer to "Are you happy?" It's like... happiness is a natural state and asking about it only spoils it.

Then someone told me that my son's teacher hurt his leg or something, and I got scared => lost my lucidity.

******** riders

Това е най-сериозното нещо, което някога ти се е случвало... и то не е сериозно! :D

Номерът е не да ги гледаш фракталите, а да осъзнаеш, че ти си фрактал и да видиш колко е секси и смешно!

Пусни се.

Махай! Махай! Махай!

Когато се събудиш в съня, няма страх.

Нямам толкова мана, Даниел, нямам толкова мана.

- Сънувам ли, Зу?
- Да, сънуваш.

Защо е толкова силно? Искам да го махна от себе си, искам да го махна от себе си!

Обективната истина е субективна.

Ти си истината.

An infinite loop of catharses ad absurdum.

И тя казва: "Само едно нещо се иска, едно-едничко, за да се слееш с мен - изхвърли си разсъдъка..."

На хора като Alex Grey, Хъксли, Блейк, Анри Мишо, Майстер Екхарт и всички останали мистици трябва да се изгради паметник, че изнамират силата да го опишат. Ако ще и калпаво.
И пак имам чувството, че сън съвсем в началото...

Прозявка през плач през смях: Оставете ме да заспя! Защо би искал да се върнеш в съня?

Soen - Canvas

i have discovered a canvas
behind its colors i forge myself
meanings below that we set up low
and suddenly i see
that everyone is blind but me

i have discovered a canvas
deep in the sea of this harmony
cosmic embrace
a solace portray of endless energy
visions are moving away from me

concentrate, don't lose your illusion

don't let them provide a solution
you're faint in your head
close your eyes from false shining lies
made to confuse us all
architectures of domination
society they call

i have discovered a canvas
using its colors i saw my Self
breaking the norm
induce a reform, defy insanity
bred in the care of my vanity

see them entirely abstract
out of the orbit we comprehend...

harmony

never fought harder than this
i built my temple on this
pushing, fighting, bleeding, taking, giving
every second closer to the ceiling
i will assemble all this
down to the last broken piece
tension in the atmosphere is lower
gravity is slowly taking over

lucid

А всъщност въпросите "Буден ли съм?" и "Сънувам ли?" са еднозначни. :)

TRIP #4

by jbark

So this is the trip I need help understanding. It floored me. It horrified me to my core - humbled, baffled, obliterated, and scattered me like nothing else has. It made me swear off spice and all other entheo/psychedelics forever...

Now, had I been alone, no big deal. I don’t frighten easily (another classic sign of stupidity), but with my son there I had a revelation: if it came down to it and a bear came charging out of the woods at us, I felt certain that I would run, drawing the beast away to sacrifice myself to save my son . I don’t take this lightly : it was the first time I realized, despite all the philoso-babble to the contrary, that you can indeed commit a truly selfless act. It freaked my selfish little self out. I was terrified (for the first of two times that day as I was to discover later…) - terrified both for my son and by the realization that if a bear did present itself, I would die a grizzly death (pardon the pun…).

First of all, much respect to those who can navigate these deep swampy waters; I for one have no vessel and no oar, and in the absence of a keel to direct the path, I am lost lost lost and fear I shall never be found for there is nowhere to be found and no one to find or do the finding and nothing but this maelstrom, this void that is as empty and vacuous as anything my imagination can behold…

Massive primary coloured letters of sorts – most indecipherable, but at least one a strange permutation of the capital letter E, hurtling toward me without really moving in the chaotic miasma that I am in/that is in me/that is me.

Thrust into the maelstrom and stripped so profoundly of the impression that « I am » and that I exist, that whatever is left of me is thoroughly convinced that all I believed I had experienced, up to now, reveals itself, like a dagger through the heart of the mind, as an elaborate illusion to which I shall never return. Worse than cessation, more painful than the thought of death is the realization that you NEVER WERE… (note : I have, in my clearer moments, accepted my death and have faced it numerous times with other materials, but this, as with my experiences with salvia, was of an order more disturbing, to say the least…)

In the midst of the mess was a chorus : « it’s Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, it’s Saturday » screeching across the vista of my mind, until, sitting up and opening my eyes in a futile attempt to dispel the hell, I realize, seeing the room utterly transformed, that it is me screaming the day of the week – but it’s not me as well. And it’s Sunday. And I am never coming back to know what a day of the week is, because there is NO BACK TO, NO FROM, AND NO TO (let alone the mundanity of a day of a week of some year in some life). (note : I had a similar salvia trip where my field of view was filled with orange monochromatic, puffy and expanding, thick, black-outlined cartoon school buses, and a similar chorus was singing, invitingly, menacingly and with ambivalence all at once in voices that were a dis/harmony of insectoid screeches layered over the clearest of sopranos : « it’s Wednesday, Wednesday, it’s Wednesday Wednesday Wednesday… » ; yes, accompanied with the same sensations described above – IT FELT LIKE THE SAME PLACE. Maybe my mind is not constructed for the use of these substances…)

A loop - endless inexorable recursion… I sit up and then fall back into a cartoon abyss of colours and Saturday Saturday Saturday… Endless eternal indomitable recursion, an irremediable feedback loop (note : curiously I have always maintained that video/audio feedback loops are the face/voice of god…) – consciousness itself ? Am I at the root of the Hofstadter loop? The MandelThought ? The firmware of my mind ? Is this a breakthrough, pure and horrifying ? Have I disabled the illusion, unbuilt the edifice of « consensual reality » to get down to the base, most reptilian and ancient form of simple consciousness – a terrifying self-referential eternal loop of non-being ? or un-being ? the horror…

The universe and our consciousness (common and universal or not) is neither good nor evil nor ambivalent, but rather profoundly indifferent, and as neutral as any void can be. I feel this more than I know it.

Once the most intense of these sensations passed, I am able to open my eyes. There is another dimension visible : height, length, width and the passage of time have newly revealed themselves, but in addition to these co-ordinates is another. I don’t need to tell you it was indescribable, but I will nevertheless do my best with these monkey paws and keystrokes. Like trailers from walls and stairs and in the very air itself, but at once so much more than a simple visual phenomenon, I feel I am glimpsing something new to me, but that has always been there. I feel not unlike a beast who understands up, down, to and fro and has a sudden epiphany that it exists also in a universe of passing moments, conceptualizing past, present and future in an instant through the sudden awakening of a new sense.

I realize I am no more than a raw ego-less nerve of consciousness, subjected to a nonsensical and arbitrary string of luminescent and aural detritus. (Note : I meant during the trip, but the cynic in me supposes this could be applied to everyday living…)

It felt about as spiritual as a kitchen knife excoriation. I can only conclude that the spiritual aspect of this substance lies in the interpretation of the experience - but that contradicts my very understanding of spirituality as something felt not thought. I don’t…

I enjoy challenges, but this seems insurmountable, an unassailable task of back and forth and down down down through a self-perpetuating, Sisyphean recursive loop, like a perpetual motion ride past the far reaches of sanity… Where is the value in this ? What wisdom is to be had that cannot otherwise be gleaned ?

Cresting and lulling waves messing with the fine mesh of mind…

Other Spice journeys stimulated, made me think ; this one ground the thinking apparatus to a precipitous halt. Beyond intellect and beyond description and above all beyond even intuitive comprehension. The ball that rolled didn’t only cease to roll, it first became a cube, then vaulted through and beyond the realm of multi-dimensional polyhedra and became an ineffable 8i5v n 843-tg8i’jiknp2… I can’t even attempt to understand. The only questions that remain are whether it is worth returning to hyperspace (assuming I was there…) and – is…it…dangerous… ?

I don’t want to discredit the advice often given on the nexus to remain calm and not to resist, but to me at this point it is analogous to hitting someone in the head with a bat and telling them not to feel the pain (note : I am sure some zen aficionados out there will have something to say on this subject). I suppose I did resist, but I have no clear idea through what mechanism, ‘cause I did not feel there was an active I to resist with. « I » was obliterated, so if there was resistance and an absence of calm, from whence… ?

If you can’t make sense of something because the word sense no longer applies or signifies, then is there a point, a meaning beyond simply an absence thereof ?

At what cost wisdom ? and is it wisdom if it proves unwise ? There are so many paths to wisdom, and none of them promised or guaranteed – therein lies their beauty and value. But in the balance of things, is the price and the risk involved in certain behaviours, along uncertain paths worth the distant possibility of wisdom ? Someone hit by a truck, paraplegic, learns lessons everyday that no one not confined to a wheelchair and incapable of voluntary movement can learn. There is wisdom here that can be learned nowhere else, but no one in their right mind would throw themselves in front of a truck to gain these insights. There are other paths and other wisdoms ; are we throwing ourselves in front of a truck called spice ? Or am I ? Or is it only me that feels this way ?

Thanks for reading ; sorry for the length. Tough write. Not really in my nature to expose myself like this, nor to ask for help. But I guess that’s spice right?

IS WHAT’S OUT THERE'S WHAT’S IN HERE?

The Heritage

The father to his son,
Says you have to be weak to be strong
You have to be scared to be brave,
You have to know fear to be saved
The son to his father,
Says I'm too scared to be a man
I'm too dumb to be a fool,
Father help me understand
And he says
War war war,
War against your soul
Dig dig dig,
Dig your coffin's hole
Everyone must face their demons
And now the turn is yours
Father what's it all about,
Am I too in to get out
Am I too guilty to be free,
Are the whole world sinners or just me
Son you've got the whole thing wrong,
The road is neither short nor long
The answer's neither white nor black,
And it weighs heavy on your back
Go go go,
Go until you're old
Run run run,
Run to catch your soul
Every man must learn to love his demon,
Your demon's name is yours
War war war,
War against your soul
Dig dig dig,
Dig your coffin's hole
Everyone must face their demons
And now the turn is yours

- Martin Grech

Ясен Гюзелев...

...за творческата интуиция и световете, в които физиката и философията се срещат: ЦЪК!

яж желязо

Направи си шейк
От желязо и шоколад
На стружки
Не, по-добре желязо на прах
Изпиваш го и чакаш
Ръждата в кръвта
Докато ръждясаш
Внимавай да не го ядеш
Със свинско
Защото ще остане дълго
Във червата
И всичко това
Защото си вегетарианец

Mantra

Тази мантра стана част от мен
Сърцето ми я диша
Душата ми я диша
Цялото ми тяло я диша
Всяка глътка въздух е мантра
Всяка глътка вода е мантра
Всяка лъжица захар е мантра
Всяка целувка е мантра
Всяка прегръдка е мантра
Всяка песен е мантра
Всяка раздяла е мантра
Всеки страх е мантра
Всяка болка е мантра
Всяко съмнение е мантра
Всяка заблуда е мантра
Всяка любов е мантра
Дишай
Издишай
Сърцето ми я сънува
Мрънка си я под носа
Сънувай спокойно, сърце
Дишай спокойно, сърце
Вече ти инжектираха мантра
И нищо не може да те докосне.

There's a little black spot on the sun today...

Дара: Боли ли те?
Ния: Да.
Дара: Болката е въпрос на избор.
Ния: Значи искам да ме боли?
Дара: Обичаш ли болката?
Ния (смее се): Явно!
Дара: А обичаш ли картини?
Ния: Това какво общо има?
Дара: Обичаш ли картини?
Ния: Много.
Дара: Болката е картина. Опитай се да я задраскаш.
Ния: Това е глупаво.
Дара: Задраскай я.
Ния: Добре.
Дара: Какво виждаш?
Ния: Кръст.
Дара: Ето това е болката. В момента, в който се опиташ да я задраскаш, тя се появява. Цялата тази болка е илюзия. Много по-страшен е страхът от нея. Когато се опиташ да я видиш, тя се появява. Когато се опиташ да я оковеш, се озоваваш с куп железа в сърцето. А ако просто пробваш да пъхнеш пръст в нея, да я хванеш, тя се изпарява. Болката е празно платно, въздух, илюзия. Не я задрасквай. Не я обличай в думи. Не я прави истина.

сърце ала бекет

умирам
трябва да стана
не мога да стана
ще стана

формална логика

Страшен е не Животът, а съдържанието му.

на клубче и половин сандвич ;)

Снежни брегове. По тях пълзи черна боя. Заливат ги черни вълни, които покълват в снега и се просмукват в земята. Черна земя, черни дървета, черни къщи, черни лица, които нямат израз, които ходят всеки ден на работа и светят само в моменти на надежда. Които обичат и стъпват на пръсти, за да не събудят другия, за да не му изкарат ангелите. Всички имаме ангели. Дори демоните са ангели, които ни водят у дома. У дома, където земята не е черна, където дърветата не са черни, където морето не е черно, където хората са цели, където хората са андрогини и се търкалят ведро по слънчевата земя.

парчетата ангели в парчетата хора

Тялото ми се разгражда в струните на музиката. Тялото ми става на атомни частици, които вие всички вдишвате. Това е тялото ми, което вдишвате. Аз гледам как сте се впили в телата си, как сте се вкопчили в коси, кожи, бедра, носове, които вдишват тела, но не вдишват хора. Вие поемате музиката, която направи тялото ми на прах и после правите други тела на прах с музиката си. Облаци от човешки прах засенчват слънцето като скакалци, които отмъщават за човешката глупост - да си вкопчен в тялото си, в глада си, в жаждата си, в органите си, в себе си, в дъха си, в носа си. Във всички тези парченца, които стъпват тихо по земята, за да не събудят другите, за да не им изкарат ангелите. Парчетата ангели в парчетата хора.

m4

Womb. Me and my own embryo.

Me: Who are you?
Embryo: I'm a dead bird.
Me: So you've got wings?
Embryo: Yeah, in my head.
Me: So you've got a head?
Embryo: I've got a head with wings.
Me: This is new age mumbo jumbo! This is bullshit.
Embryo: Bullshit is what bullshit does.
Me: What do you do?
Embryo: I laugh, I dance, I sing.
Me: So you're human?
Embryo: No, I'm a dead bird, I told you.
Me: So humans are dead birds?

m3

Дръж се за себе си
Хвани оголеното си сърце в ръце
Ако не почувстваш нищо
Значи си се научил

m2

Лъчи разкъсват гърдите ми
Хиляди души излитат
Греят с несветеща светлина
След тях идват гълъбите
Малки и сини - водни
Почти като птичката на Буковски
Заливат и давят душите
Които не знаят, че са риби
Всяка има камък на шията
Който я тегли стремглаво надолу
Докато не й пораснат
Перки, опашка, хриле
Най-после съм у дома