It is good to have Avram back, and working nicely. Here I am at the artsy coffeehouse not far from work, cappuchino at hand, and once again clueless about what to say about how I feel and what I think. I'm hoping I've kicked my engine into proper gear again, but as is the way of things now, if the engine goes at the right speed, then I'm probably driving it the wrong direction. I have to watch out for my expectations of movement, because that usually ends up being like the way they used to cheat on cars driving in the old movies. You know, how the car would stand still in a studio and rock about slightly, while the only thing moving was the background scrolling by on a screen. I've been so focused on how I physically feel and how what physically I should do to facilitate change in my life, I didn't realize how brutal I had gotten. I nearly tore my therapist (yes, I'm a good Jewish boy, so of course, I'm in therapy) apart limb from limb verbally the other day, just for suggesting I might be frustrating myself and not seeing new ways out of the racetrack I am lapping over and over at reckless and impatient speeds. (Man, I use alot of automobile metaphors for a guy who hasn't owned a car in several years. Must be the American in me showing.)

I did finish the first of Robert Anton Wilson's three-volume Cosmic Trigger series, Final Secrets of the Illuminati. Amazing amazing book. I really can't give a full judgement of it, as it is still working down through my nervous system. It is really important right now for me to read about Wilson's own journey into metaprogramming his mind and how his experiments in consciousness were so interwoven, in give and take, with the deep experiences of his life during that time. The breath of authenticity is in his writing, even if you can never be sure how much he is saying is just guerrila ontological weirdness, or pure thought-provoking bullshit. Then that's nothing that isn't mirrored in any seeker's life, really. A few times I denied any truth in the book, but that was mostly because my reality is so tight and I am so angry at anyone who seems to experience what I hold as pure theory. Oddly, denial somehow always makes me feel more alive, because it is definitely something entirely human. But, he definitely went alot more esoteric and mystical than I can imagine going, with everything from Crowleyian Magick, Raja Yoga, Extraterrestrial contact, and quantum psychology. Still, lesson learned is that there is a difference between believing in nothing definitively (as mentioned in the prologue I posted here) and a willingness to believe in the power possible in everything.

It's too much to go into (but I might post a summation later) the whole Timothy Leary idea of the eight neural circuits of the human mind. Wilson advocated ways, using his own experiences, to awaken the higher circuits and explore the lower ones, that readers could try, but I doubt I will be able to walk that path. Then this has always been about my own path, finding my own thought-action processes to keep awakening my human potential. Or least get better comedy material from it. Since Leary is mentioned, you can assume correctly that drugs are large in the workings of these consciousness experiments, heavy on the psychedelics, hold the onions. That is a road I don't really think is wise to take in my case, considering that my major "imprint" of LSD, as Leary puts it, was a bad trip of mammoth proportions, in which so much fear and violence were involved that I doubt I could de-imprint it without some major serious expert help, which I do not have. Anyway, beyond some lower-order substances, I worry too much about dabbling in something so adverse to holding down a job. (Hateful as I am about being chained to practicality. But then anything is possible. Just have to say that.) I just need to discover what kind of experiences, some classic, some original, I can try for myself. If I can get myself out of the mindfuck involved in lack of "resources" to conduct them.
I need to do something right now. I am opening the door, but it close if I fiddle with the locks too much. Even my job is a detriment. It will make for some interesting reading, since the notebook that I keep for it will be this blog.

I just hope I can gain more experience to build the language to explain what is happening to the totality of my life, because it hurts, not just because I refuse to allow for the lack of words, but because how much would I gain in my heresy, if I don't share. I'm so tired and distant to those around me, because most of the time I either can't explain, or fall back into abstraction of bullshit. That and I have to believe that I can risk the torch and the stake. That would be a good death, if death is ever truly good. Better that than the blind stagnation of a living death, never answering the call to hook myself to the currents of evolution, and take the ride of my life.