borrowing from a pink floyd album cover:
it will take a 12h shift:
standing: not marching: i'd much prefer
a 12h shift of just walking than standing
in one spot: rooted in like a tree:
your skeleton is not supposed to imitate
a tree:
you almost want to stand on one foot...
but your toes are only so numerous (x10)
before the pins and the needles reach into
clarifying you are a bipedal creature
with an ***** spine:
i tried dancing on the spot
i tried being a hunchback i tried everything...
bypass comes after about 10h when
the fatigue wears off and some strange
adrenaline kicks in and the pain is numbed
(which wasn't a pain, just an irritation
to begin with) - and the body is worn enough
like a gratitude...
plus is was Wanstead and all the east London
hispters and the thoroughly bred
well: all the women are mothers but they
look so average so average
none of those whorish **** types you want
for one night:
then there was this couple and obviously
middle aged with two boys...
one had an oversized head and absolutely no
shoulders
his brother in a wheelchair all strobe-light happy
in spasms of trying to give birth to ego
and to the vector of ego that could be translate
as thought:
a happy vegetable: well: all botanical life
is alive and moving to the waves of photosynthesis
so much parody:
i was thinking in splinters of moments:
if i am so degenerate in my ethics of perhaps
my biology and i am not given access to
reproduce: i will... just watch this spectacle
of the receeding hairlines and the weak jaws
and the choice women have made
and i will be deliberately humble about
how people want life to be the conjuring
of a magic of misery...
am i o.k. with "nature": yes! am i concerned
about the civilization of nature:
the unnaturalization process that spews out
of the mouths of Christianity:
how the weak are supposed to humble the strong
and leave the strong unwilling to protect
the weak?
that is what Christianity has spawned...
                        the weak bias of weakness...
there is no strong bias of stregth:
even in that single sentence i see...
                        there is only strength and will:
determination...
but the weak spawn a -ness: a quality about them
that crumbles under the weight of
solititude and: eventually that solitutde turns into
a solipsism: which, is a veneer: a mask:
a prototype which becomes an archetype of
imitating a mountain...
standing ground watching as time erodes...
how time bends...
for those 12h i tried to conjure a narrative akin
to the peep / peak show... with an internal
narrative to hush hush talk miserably about the people
around me:
but i realised: when you negate thinking:
i.e. i'm not thinking:
when you obstruct thinking rather than pseudo-obstruct
thinking with acts of meditation and
meditation is such oriental *******...
we're Europeans! we don't meditate!
we either think! or we don't think!
meditation is a pathology of the lack of obsruction!
to borrow from architecture and the dams
and how rivers swell and become lakes
and in turn are harnessed to create electricity...
at this Wanstead festival i witnessed the holistic
jargon eye and ******* swelling crap
like 45min sessions of people sitting in
a darkened tent tapping their foreheads...
listening to windchimes and witchcraft...
as i said to my Pakistani coworker:
well: i can imagine that massaging the temples
would do you some good: since that's the most
vulnerable part of the cranium: besides the eye sockets:
but tapping your forehead thinking it would
conjure up Buddha's third eye...
i can ******* headbutt you... do i need to tap
my ******* forehead too?
i can ******* headbutt you like a Mongolian yak...
savvy?
oh jeez... and the music: this karaoke was
so terrible...
                     well... what i was trying to figure out...
Wanstead is not Chelsea and these hispters
with their families:
some apparently deflecting biological hazards
of leaving it much too late to reproduce...
but everyone was just giving themselves a pat on
the shoulder for having achieved a momentous
clarity of family:
while i just stood there: twinkle toe...
a vastness of reading and isolation...
                              sparingly a comment came
which i overheard between four men
concerning the "yellow jackets"...
         until one approached me and asked
me for the direction to the toilets: which he already
knew:
but the way he approached me was
from a descriptive angle:
well, you look stern and authoritative...
do i?
                      the black cap and sunglasses
are not a ******* Batman suit:
do you see me wearing underwear over my trousers?
i didn't say that: i didn't even think that:
i'm only now, writing about it...
ad hoc hindsight... which i find more and more:
hindsight is a great tool for narration:
because you don't have any narratative component
when the moment comes:
it's only hours later that it creates a dawn of a splinter
a suffocation of silence that needs to be
broken...

so in that: all well known album cover...
light passes through a prism: for the sake of argument
the prism is 2D...
so white light passes through a prism... triangle...
and emerges as a rainbow...
now...

  thinking                      not thinking...
besides meditation:
meditation in the oriental sense is...
i saw those *******...
they obstruct not thinking by creating
frequencies... making sounds...
and i don't mean Mongolian sound generation
of the khoomei... the Tuvan practice
of reaching into your stomach for a breath
and raising it to your throat
while also blocking your ability to breathe
through your nose creating a blocked
cavity (misnomer aplenty, regardless)...
but these ******* are willing meditation:
they are so blind to: not thinking...
that they are actually thinking about: "not thinking":

by way of honing into a specific sound
of the "guru"...
                    i never thought that i could
experience seeing people so pathological about
clinging to thinking:
and these people are, categorically:
pathological concerning keeping up with
the Descartes and the Kants...
thinking without focus / systematications...
no labyrinths no rivers...
no great yawn seas of perverted time of
their own, singular, vessels...

          you either think: or you don't think...
so if i take the light and the 2D prism away...
and instead...
i posit a cube...
and just draw a straight line into the cube
and just call it time...
i can replace light with time...
but for me to replace light with time
i need a 3D object for the vector to pass into:
after all:
what does thinking cushion, absorb...
time... thinking has nothing to do with space:
and i think that's what really bothers most people...
that thinking is associated with time...
while not thinking is associated with space...
categorical-negation: NOT-THINKING

**** i even had to craft a hyphenated compound
for the subject matter!
not-thinking ≠ meditation...
                               maybe meditation is something
the orient invented itself in because
its phonetic encoding create a dissonance
from how simple and universal sounds are...
i mean:
     i once wrote a poem about red and green...
but that became deleted (somehow: ooh woo hoo)
octopus, milk, sugar... otherwise oscar, mike, sierra...
that's what came through the radio
and i just giggled...

                  why are traffic lights
red amber green
green is safe
but what if blue: blue is flow... good to go...
otherwise blue is the light of an ambulance
speeding:
blue is: let us pass through:
so it's not like people can't see blue
in the daylight...
ah but red and amber: conjure up brown?
no... blue and red contrasts...
yellow and blue make brown?

                  shifty tactic... now just spewing...
but regardless of light...
if time is the equivalent to light...
and passes through a 3D rather than a 2D prism...
(in the case of 2D: an optical element,
so viable)
                           ... thinking is associated
with time...
but not-thinking... that's the cushion for space
to absorb you, chew you, digest you: spit you out
but retain a part of you that will eventually
be ******* out...
                              yet time and thinking...
a bit like medtiation:
meditation is a laxative:
you want to enter a state of meditation whereby
you stop thinking: but you're not not-thinking...
meditation is an answer as to why we were
able to domesticate animals...

                            oh no one here who's a loud
mouth and know it how...
these words: written with the envy of silence
have no voice of my own...
but they can be the reader's own words...
i will not utter them...

                        that tapping on the forehead
bothered me a great deal...
                           meditation is not a negating-obstruction
of thinking...        there is only the categorical-negating
article of: NOT: the definite articulation of
the swaying-obstruction of NO...
                     there is NO moon
                     becomes: that is NOT (a / the -ism) moon...

12h shift... several hours later and
my plughole of an **** gets finally unblocked
with relaxation my rummaging my intestines
with a bread that doesn't use the ingredient of wheat:
just seeds and white cheese (not as salty
as a feta)...

                          and we even haven't began to
talk about Islam's fascination with consciousness...