* post card
* pickup milk
* nothing's real
I may choose from time to time to add to the top, middle or bottom of the writing. There is no flow here, and this is not for anyone to read in particular. I sit and write whatever I wish until something comes out that interests me, then I explore it further to see where it goes. Recently I've been trying to avoid using I too much when writing, this as lead to some interesting sentences.
The disembodied first person, I have no idea if that even exists, the first person is 'me' isn't it? The second person is the person who is being acted upon, the third person is the observer, the fourth person is the one on the other side of the computer screen, or reading the book, who is not participating but is in fact, observing, still, what the third person is experiencing. Perhaps I am talking about the forth person here, perhaps I am taking about the disembodied first, as I mentioned. I expect other cultures have this nailed already, the language in certain regions have somewhat more descriptive ability for these sort of things. Regardless, I'm talking about the me that is'nt constantly nattering.
Melsa Dowdell, wrote a book called the Voice of the Soul, I may be able to find a copy somewhere, but after she passed away, the books which hadn't been sold, were sent all over the UK for freee to assorted spiritualist churches. I expect if I had read past chapter 7 or 13 or whatever, I would have understood what Soren was trying to say. I liked the story, I loved the concept, but it was way above the I that I was to be bothered to stick at it and comprehend it all. I at the time was certainly embroiled in the world I had believed I had created for me, and had to live in. Now I have read many other books, I may look out for a copy of The Voice to have a re-read. I wonder if anyone I know has a copy.
The little voice within was the way of describing the 'soul' in that book. Others like to call it I 'id', the one who already knows right from wrong, is what is used to describe the difference. The one which actually if you are very quiet, tells you what you should be doing. This is the one which tells you over and over that the relationship isn't good and you need to leave, it's the other louder one, ego, which distracts you and tells you you should go do something to stimulate your senses, and I don't care for that one (mind you that one sometimes uses a sly quiet voice too).
The little voice though, that little voice, although it will lead you if you listen, down the 'righteous' path, the path where there may be some initial pain, but longer term you will be better off listening to it. Even this little voice, isn't the real voice I'm looking for. The one I know is in there. The one which can gaze and not be distracted, the one I am being when I am in the zone. The one I am when I am riding a motorbike. The one I am when I am creating some artwork, just for the sake of it, and not because I may be able to sell the artwork. The one which allows me to be me. The one which got me the name 'Lil'.
This has been written a few times already, I will plough on regardless. The issue when using a computer is that it is such a swift and unconscious response with the keyboard, to remove words written; when they are discovered to be untrue a moment later. The advantages of creating this writing on a computer do not outweigh the advantages of the pen on paper approach. I am still driven to create here as I believe the digital form strangely more likely to last than a physical note, perhaps there is some part of my ego which is causing me to expect another to read it and praise me.
The restrictive pain felt when crafting with the older tools, leads me again and again to the technological approach. The pen is essentially indelible, but unfortunately, my pride still stands in the way of my writing, for in wishing to be understood, I eagerly await the little red line which announces a typing mistake.
I am here again, writing about which is not important, and again skirting around the subject I wish to engage with gently. I would prefer not to battle, not to fight or draw great currents of energy to force my way through the written word, instead, I would prefer to slide through to the truth, as an agile hunter would move through dense woodland. I am certain when they started out, they bumped and rustled, and took dead end turns and had to go back, I expect this to be the case here, and will attempt to cut to the chase where possible. I spy my quarry through a thicket and am about to stealthily approach before it notices and shifts once more.
The computer in front of me exists. It's what I've been typing on, perhaps I need to read more hahaha. I see that this is a method of breaking barriers down and accepting things which may not seem to fit in with the standardised world we live in. So many pathways to follow here.
When I was learning about dyslexia and autism, the very start of the 'seeds of change' program began with creating a Plasticine model of myself, in simplistic form. Then I created an arrow and pointed it at the figure, and spelt the word 'Me' and pointed the word to the figure. I then stated out loud something along the lines of, This is me, it represents all the wisdom knowledge and understanding I have experienced.
Later, the phrase was altered to also include 'life force' alongside, knowledge, wisdom and understanding. This was a great moment for me, as at that point, I was struggling to differentiate between me and others. I certainly wasn't the centre of my world, and never had been consciously. Perhaps when I was a young child, but actually, perhaps not.
It turns out this was an incredibly powerful moment for me, and caused an upset in other's worlds as I was now on the lookout for me. I learnt some values which others had instinctively gleaned from their surroundings, perhaps from good understanding of their environment, with accurate perception, but for me, this was the moment, I became an individual.
Now, I am wondering what I is. What this actually means. It's a strange thing to explain, so I have decided to write about it.
It is very difficult not to go back and make alterations to the text already written, in fact the draw is so strong that even as I type I am thinking of removing the first line of the page entirely and altering 'a computer' to 'technology' but the point here is to exercise some sort of drive to complete the task and not be distracted by past or future. Perhaps this will simply be a mess which will be impossible to read, perhaps it will be genius, enthralling, or just words on a page. Lets' look at that a second, words on a page. The page does not exist, the words do not exist, in fact nothing exists. I know this intellectually, but have a problem in bringing this way into my heart. Actually, you know what, there is no problem in bringing it into my heart, it already knows nothing exists, my head is though attempting to create a situation where I doubt my heart knows what it wants and passes judgement so slyly that I almost missed it.
The language used by the parts of my conscious self, or mind, or whatever you want to label it, ego, or thoughts, is a complex one to decipher. It is so hard in passing, unthinkingly unnoticingly existing without being lead by this moment by moment. Petty judgements and nattering is seen and heard from time to time, but I'm more of a picture thinker. I expect it's hard to understand the language when nothing is spoken, but when you 'know' something you 'know it' and the 35 pictures a second in my subconscious continually reinforce old statement and truth.
Another bloody distraction, how is it that using a pen and paper, which is that much more easy to do, feels like the wrong thing to do here? I wonder, I am I suppose, using this tool and placing these comments here so that there is the possibility that someone will see it and comment, and feed the Ego. That is it I think. but now that I know that, will I continue. I think so, this is quite a pleasant place to write, it's simple and hopefully, portable if I've set it up correctly.
Not sure why I'm creating a big thing out of this, I'm not sure if I am even creating a big thing out of this. I feel like I am creating a big thing out of this in my own mind, but it's likely noone knows that I am even exploring this magical realm, where nothing exists and noone is real, it's quite intriguing.
I've no Idea what I'm talking about here, but I feel like something new may be coming to the world, slowly, slowly the changes are visible in certain circles, but mot apparent in others until the discussion is raised to the fore. Try it and see if anyone else has noticed?
The older website Superceded paragraphs is still available.