Junk Chat #123

you know man, it’s like this thing

this basic column—i say column ’cause you automatically think the spine—don’t you?

anyhow, let’s just see—imagine something solid and developing over time and experience round which other amorphous things are buzzing

ya? let me draw it out for you

you know, one can just illustrate, not illuminate

that is the tragedy of it all man! words fuck the shit out of everything

everyone’s just running around, thinking they understand what’s happening

it’s all the same goddamnit! sex, drugs, religion, science, fuckin whatever!

some tripped out bastard had a primal vision centuries ago

and since then, all of us are just tripping on someone else’s trip who tripped on someone else’s trip, and so on, like chinese whispers, you know?

fuck plato and aristotle, even before them man, early man types, and of course, even before that—all that evolution has to leave traces in the genetic information, no? like DNA and stuff!

so ya, the original vision is lost to the old blackhole, my friend… the forbidden one, remember?

but anyhow, what was i saying?

ya, something solid—call it soul, spirit, self, energy, vibe, aura or whatever your grandma’s bald pussy…

ha ha ha ha, sorry, i just spring that on people sometimes

you know, like a random personality test?

ya ya, i’m an ass, but anyhow, yes, never mind all that mystical-spiritual-humanist crap for now

i mean yeah, in essence it makes sense and you’ve felt it too, you know, at times…

bliss and unity, we’re all the same, and there’s no duality, and blah blah blah

even as a rational idea—waves, energies, particles, lengths

fine, agreed, but come on, how often do you really feel it? like really know it, know what i mean?

you forget everything, your self, time, and yet you know, you just know, don’t you?

but then again, you come back to what you think is the matrix of time, place and identity and you think, was that the real deal? isn’t the real deal supposed to be ON like all times once it’s flipped? but of course not, you silly bastard! ask tolstoy, he knew it! and the others

’cause it does seem like what the furthered ones seemed to be wanking about in their words and art and sundry attempts to eff the ineffable, right?

but then, isn’t that a trip too?

man, that’s what i was telling you, this is fuckin maddening, you know?

a grand tragedy, starring the doubting dogs… huh huh, what do they do?

well, they just doubt till the end man, some of them hoping that something shall crystallize someday—and if it doesn’t, ah well…

but i’m sorry, no, we were talking about—i mean i’m not a fuckin saint man, or a zen monk or something… none of us are, so fuck all of that higher-level talk for now

in the end, no matter how much you light up, you still gotta eat and shit man…you know, you’re still going through the matrix, geddit? triggered eons ago from the big bang, and since evolved through energy to matter to cluster to life to memory to man to tribe and all the shit that followed

but no, back to the column! huh huh, you remember, right? the column? ya

like a basic thing, you know? like marx! base and superstructure, yes?

so ya, everyone has this basic identity inherited through reproductive juices, time and memory and relation and circumstance, cause and effect, the wheel of karma and all that jazz—whatever you want—and this thing, this identity grows with you and begins to solidify with newer sensations and experiences that fine tune the feelings and cognition departments—or not, in some cases—but in any case, after a while i think the cement starts to dry man….

after that, the things—energy, vibe, matter, whatever—they just bounce off, or maybe just stick to the surface… and you’re stuck with what you’ve managed by then…. and we’re not evening considering death here…. so it’s like hopefully, you should have figured out the shit before that, or else, well, you’re just stuck man—going through the cycle of time and rebirth and the old bag of tropes if you’re into that sort of a thing—ye olde trishanku! know what I mean? he he he…

but anyhow, so yeah, all these things—what defines us man, who are we, you know? isn’t that the question we’re all trying to answer? and to try and think of it even just in logical terms is plain absurd—or on the other hand, that is the fundamental stupidity, but what do you do man? if you’re a doubting dog, you just are, you know? can’t do much about it… just keep walking the path, maybe something will happen… fuck everyone else! you’re too sane to accept things man, like the bullshit-detector is strong with this one, aye? ha ha ha

and of course, maybe the thing is to just think less and do more, but hey man, like i said, doubting dogs, remember?

huh huh, so anyhow, ya, i was thinking, maybe i should write something on this, like in an epical mode—what do you think?

abaeeyh gaanduu . . .

– Ishan Marvel

Marvel was born in the mountains, but for now, he has embraced the city.

Send your expression (anything shareable) to mirrorworkss@gmail.com with short bio + portrait + relevant contact/social media information to have it featured on this site. Namaskara!

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