Blood, Bone.....The dark spaces between....
July 21st 2009 01:51
Bad.
Bad. Its all bad. Like Dark. All Dark.....Whenever I hear those crazies start saying it...."dark, dark, all dark..." The way she describes it to them....The dark place. Things crawling on you, things in the dark that want to hurt you....Oh, doesnt she just hit that nail square on the head? The perfect description of insanity. It is. It is.
I once asked, What is Insanity? How do you know the difference from Sanity? Cos they always say, everyones a little crazy. But as usual, when I asked, I did recieve, and I went insane.
I read once, that insanity cannot be remembered in sanity without greater madness. That is true. When I think back to my insanity, its lost time. A whole slab of time thats just missing from me. If I reach for details, its just sharp dark. I remember thinking that I couldnt move, because if I moved, it would stab me, all over. I once tripped out a mate on acid - he thought he had ants crawling on himself, and was diligently sprinkling sugar about the house to deflect them. So I started to discuss skin sensations with him. Oh, yeah, I said, I know the ants. Sometimes they have claws of Ice. Sometimes claws of fire. Sometimes the just tickle. And sometimes, they turn into knives that stab and stab at you. Well, he ended up screaming.
Same guy, might have even been the same drug trip, said, "Sometimes I start thinking how the stuff that makes up me is the same stuff that makes up everything, like walls and couch and shit. And if the stuff that makes up me is the same stuff that makes up everything, whats holding me together? And then I start thinking Im coming apart."
Great observation. Im often amazed when people just stumble on truth like that. And I think ordinary people need to be off their faces to recognize it. Like, if an ordinary Joe stumbles on a gem like that, he passes it off as fancy. But on drugs, you actually relize that you've been struck by Gods thoughts, you know? Cos the viel is torn.
But then, theres fancy. I fancy a lot. Id fancy this or that. And I hemstitch my fucking fancies, I make these great worlds to play in, that can never be, no matter what I think. Like, I think, if I do this, then that, I'll have it. But it would warp in my hands. It would not be what I think it is, or what I ask it to be. Lifes a bitch that way.
But I gotta get ahead. I dont want to win the race - I dont even care if I come last - I just dont want to fall and b trampled. I keep looking for the edges, so I can escape the race all together, just go crashing off into the bush, but they made this goddamn track too wide. Maybe I keep swinging, and thats why I cant hit the edge. There might even be gaurds there, for all I know. Cant have people getting out of the race. No, cant have that at all.
Bad. Its all bad. Like Dark. All Dark.....Whenever I hear those crazies start saying it...."dark, dark, all dark..." The way she describes it to them....The dark place. Things crawling on you, things in the dark that want to hurt you....Oh, doesnt she just hit that nail square on the head? The perfect description of insanity. It is. It is.
I once asked, What is Insanity? How do you know the difference from Sanity? Cos they always say, everyones a little crazy. But as usual, when I asked, I did recieve, and I went insane.
I read once, that insanity cannot be remembered in sanity without greater madness. That is true. When I think back to my insanity, its lost time. A whole slab of time thats just missing from me. If I reach for details, its just sharp dark. I remember thinking that I couldnt move, because if I moved, it would stab me, all over. I once tripped out a mate on acid - he thought he had ants crawling on himself, and was diligently sprinkling sugar about the house to deflect them. So I started to discuss skin sensations with him. Oh, yeah, I said, I know the ants. Sometimes they have claws of Ice. Sometimes claws of fire. Sometimes the just tickle. And sometimes, they turn into knives that stab and stab at you. Well, he ended up screaming.
Same guy, might have even been the same drug trip, said, "Sometimes I start thinking how the stuff that makes up me is the same stuff that makes up everything, like walls and couch and shit. And if the stuff that makes up me is the same stuff that makes up everything, whats holding me together? And then I start thinking Im coming apart."
Great observation. Im often amazed when people just stumble on truth like that. And I think ordinary people need to be off their faces to recognize it. Like, if an ordinary Joe stumbles on a gem like that, he passes it off as fancy. But on drugs, you actually relize that you've been struck by Gods thoughts, you know? Cos the viel is torn.
But then, theres fancy. I fancy a lot. Id fancy this or that. And I hemstitch my fucking fancies, I make these great worlds to play in, that can never be, no matter what I think. Like, I think, if I do this, then that, I'll have it. But it would warp in my hands. It would not be what I think it is, or what I ask it to be. Lifes a bitch that way.
But I gotta get ahead. I dont want to win the race - I dont even care if I come last - I just dont want to fall and b trampled. I keep looking for the edges, so I can escape the race all together, just go crashing off into the bush, but they made this goddamn track too wide. Maybe I keep swinging, and thats why I cant hit the edge. There might even be gaurds there, for all I know. Cant have people getting out of the race. No, cant have that at all.
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