Opposing perspectives, my friend-
That's what this show is all about.
We can have one and two and three..
but go ahead and try this:
stand outside your one and ask another to stand outside the three.
If you find common ground,
then I believe you've solved the 'problem' of existence.
My friends are all drunks,
and so am I.
And so was Alan Watts.
Formulate a thesis about this, write it on lined paper, seal it in and envelope and burn it.

Bring nothing back,
and embrace globalization as mycelium spans the forest floor.
Now what are you?
Embrace bulwark opposition to something vile,
set yourself in position against it.
Now what are you?

Acquiesce and become.

"Embrace death with your whole heart,
and you will live forever."

sleep

Every night I run from sleep. I think, "I really should go to bed", but then my thoughts go immediately to every other thing I could possibly be doing. Apparently I'm clinging desperately to something.. but I can't identify it. If I were clinging to experience, I'd be performing more actions and moving towards a wider range of experience with my life. If I were clinging to this feeling of being awake, I wouldn't relish the feeling of laying about, lackadaisically, in my bed until the time arises where getting up is a necessity.
Tonight I will embrace dream. I'll enter the other world eagerly and see what happens. Life doesn't wait. It doesn't even have a goddamn job.
Auf wiedersehen.

Huxley

In a letter circulated to Aldous’s friends, Laura Huxley described what followed: ‘You know very well the uneasiness in the medical mind about this drug. But no ‘authority’, not even an army of authorities, could have stopped me then. I went into Aldous’s room with the vial of LSD and prepared a syringe. The doctor asked me if I wanted him to give the shot- maybe because he saw that my hands were trembling. His asking me that made me conscious of my hands, and I said, ‘No, I must do this.’

An hour later she gave Huxley a second 100mm. Then she began to talk, bending close to his ear, whispering, ‘light and free you let go, darling; forward and up. You are going forward and up; you are going toward the light. Willingly and consciously you are going, willingly and consciously, and you are doing this beautifully — you are going toward the light — you are going toward a greater love … You are going toward Maria’s [Huxley's first wife, who had died many years earlier] love with my love. You are going toward a greater love than you have ever known. You are going toward the best, the greatest love, and it is easy, it is so easy, and you are doing it so beautifully.’

All struggle ceased. The breathing became slower and slower and slower until, ‘like a piece of music just finishing so gently in sempre piu piano, dolcamente,’ at twenty past five in the afternoon, Aldous Huxley died.”









I ask for understanding. Quality of love is subjective to the lover, but openness transcends all limitations.

Severed synapses.
My happiness is warm and airy.
Days meld into dream
and the dreams become more recognizable as me.
Turn back to look into the light and I disappear..
better to bask in the comfort of its warmth,
welcome what enters and allow it passage through.
The greatest lesson I learned was how to enjoy a flower's beauty without picking, smelling, killing it.
But every flower still gets lonely.
"Don't leave me here! Pick me! Kill me!"
Smelly shit and sweet cream.
This chaos is complete perfection.