the high at the end of the world

finally, today, it hit me: this is the culmination of human civilization. with digital memory banks i have all human knowledge at my fingertips. incredible amounts of information. unfortunately, my brain and body can't take it all in. technology is simply confusing me. the imagination of human beings has created wonders which turn into monsters!

in other words, none of us have the capacity of a library, of an internet, of difficult  formulas. i have it all, but simply can't know what i have. true, i try to find simple statements which sum up the situation. "No state of being is static."  "Even chaos has a structure." "We used to call this the future." and so on. 

in other words, if i can crack the atom, i can release all its energy. and i assume all the knowledge for creating a hydrogen bomb can be found on the internet. i don't think i want to know. and as for the picture above, i'm predicting most people would like to die happy. hence, drugs, opioids, overdoses. i don't know what makes life so difficult. i rather think it's trying to make other people happy. if i could just assume my own authority, as every artist must do.

unfortunately, i would re-create the world in my own image, which is tangled, fluctuating between ecstasy and the void. i would simply make a universe for human beings which already exists. global warming ultimately comes from overheated human brains. i'm bouncing off the wall with everybody else, heated up in a bell jar. 

yes, at the very moment i should be able to take pride in this sum of the species' endeavour, i have to admit i've created a power i can't ultimately control. as the ice caps melt and the seas rise, i pilot the minuscule craft of myself across immense and growing waves. if i could only get off the planet, settle another star. even stephen hawking said that my only chance. 

ah, well, i suspect i will continue to smoke the vapor of forgetfulness. after all, the problem way too big for me. and if the shit hits the fan fifty years from now, as expected, my mortal remains will have dissolved into the making of new stars. i don't say this with delight. rather, i'd like to give hope, joy, pass you the pipe. 

wrestling with sigmund freud

i am trying desperately not to do what i've seen so many people approaching old age and death do: say the world is going to hell and can't survive without them. of course, my impulse is to do the same, despite my very lucky life. so, i'll give human beings 50 years, long enough for today's children to see their grandchildren. alas, it does mean they'll hand those kids a self-destroying world. well, not exactly self-destroying. their folks will have a lot to do with it.

for example, 16,000 nuclear weapons circle the globe, 40 pointed at New York City alone. and at any time india and pakistan with 100 each could decide to blow each other off the face of the earth, creating a nuclear winter, an ice age for the rest of us. freud jumps in to help us here. if you don't believe me read civilization and it's discontents and beyond the pleasure principle. culture is supposed to be our erotic/libido defense against the death drive.

unfortunately, as he very astutely states, every morning many of us wake to re-experience our early or late traumas, not remembering  them, as most of us don't, i think, actually know why we dive into a depression. no, we simply suffer all over again the slings and arrows of our past. we go through them all over again, every day, and this cuts into our love of life, turning flowers grey.

as stated, i've had three apocalyptic presidents, each getting elected throwing around images of Armageddon. the first, in the 80's, unbalanced democracy completely. when he went into office, income in the U.S. the most even and equal it had ever been, meaning a strong middle class, the place where the democratic impulse comes from. at the end of his eight year reign income in the U.S. was the most unbalanced it ever had been. and as aristotle said, a gulf between rich and poor destroys democracy.

then, there was apocalyptic president #2. he invaded Iraq, spreading terrorism all over the world, as he too used the language of armagedden. and why would would this appeal to such a large part of the electorate? i cite sigmund again: that huge population wishes to die. yes, yes, it's outrageous to say this. however, what makes them wish to do so is the anger fomented by talk radio and a certain television chain. they're disgusted with humanity itself, turning their anger at themselves.

as for apocalyptic president #3, he keeps asking over and over again: "why can't we use nuclear weapons?" i suppose the simple answer would be: it would destroy us all. but if enough in the world governed by the death instinct, this would make perfect sense. rather than be dethroned #3 would obviously rather push a couple of buttons. that said, i've hopefully, in a moment of unbelievable optimism, given us 50 years.

that leaves plenty of other possible catastrophes: ten huge volcanoes. astroids larger than than the one decommissioning the dinosaurs, a solar flare blowing all the electric circuits on earth, and so on. this leaves global warming as most likely, the temperature rising to 500 degrees as it is on venus. evidently, the green house effect could reach a tipping point and suddenly thrust all of us in an oven. conceivably, we as a species could ramp up our erotic/libido in time. this very unlikely as we begin watching whole towns burning in california and greece.

as someone bravely stated: "Birth gives us a return ticket."

I hypnotize myself, therefore i am

i'm struggling with this terrible knowledge i create myself every day. at night i surrender, becoming a thousand things, a fantasy of fantasies. my control is gone. not only that, i am actually paralyzed so i won't act out out my dreams. in sleep all of us are. insomnia, of course, is the fear of never being able to move again. we know in our heart of hearts we've ceased exist.

all personality created by self-hypnosis, what i tell myself over and over again, an unbroken chain of thoughts. when i dip into depression it's due to my insistence on being this person with a name, an id card, a passport, a driver's licence. the only way out means breaking the chain, visiting a therapist, going to a movie, throwing myself off a cliff.

yet, i know i can be hypnotized by someone else. and i know many people who've had problems solved by doing so. one friend, years ago, kept falling asleep at a certain time while commuting home from work. the hypnotist gave her a suggestion and next time, at exactly the right moment, she snapped wide awake, her life perhaps saved. 

in fact, when it works well, driving a car puts us in a trance. i can drive for hours, arriving at my destination, suddenly surprised by seeing the family dog. i have no recollection of the past miles. if i think too much about it, i break out in a cold sweat. mostly, though, i accept it as perfectly natural.

i am absolutely convinced my life a sequence of trance states. for example, when i studied theater directing, William Ball in A SENSE OF DIRECTION said, "just before the end of a performance, the audience enters a trance state for twenty minutes." that's absolutely remarkable. everyone in the audience has lost their own train of thought and adopted that of the playwright and actors. 

movies, a novel, an art show, if effective, they give us a vacation from ourselves, just like dreams. and what's even more amazing, being hypnotized may mean we enter the dream state and can be directed to move. a stage hypnotist can turn me into a convincing chicken or judo practitioner. it's amazing what we can do in that state. maybe not fly, as we sometimes do during sleep, but we can do pretty remarkable feats.

i am fascinated by stage magicians. obviously not everybody easily suggestible. the ones who are, however, can dance like bo-jangles, do somersaults like the latest acrobat. pretty much whatever we do in  our dreams, we can do under hypnosis. which makes me believe tapping into this potential means accessing the 70% of our brains we don't use. 

alas, tapes haven't helped me and so far i'm too timid to go to a pro. that said, i am convinced i could fly a jet plane if told to do so under hypnosis. my ultimate abilities far beyond what i can do when ordinarily conscious. had i the discipline i'd run a four minute mile or be an irresistible lover. yes, yes, i can dream can't i?

My own hypnosis poems:

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07F64SVCP/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1

and a wonderful book: 

https://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=30113425842&searchurl=kn%3Dmilton%2Bh%2Berickson%26sortby%3D17&cm_sp=snippet-_-srp3-_-image16

the road of lost time

l've decided time is what makes me human. and with that might be pain, though these might be two sides of the same coin. a friend recently had a brush with death. being a doctor, he never felt other people were really feeling pain, they exaggerated. he learned his lesson. agony can go on for a long time. theoretically, the nerves could be cut. but not in my whole body. 

of course there's morphine and heroin. if i wish, i can be a complete zombi. ah, i have escaped the human condition. unfortunately, it could easily kill me. then death is the final escape from time (i hope). what i mean is,  as a human i can manipulate time. i can find ways. i can travel, for example, overwhelmed and invigorated by new sights and sounds.

i'm sure that's why the days in childhood seemed so long (as well as painful). the world new, i had plenty of things to explore, a snowball a miracle, the moon lending the whole world a mystery. alas, i got used to the world. prison must be painful due to the routine, the same thing every single day serving time. even as i wish for security, i know too much of it can be deadly. 

okay, travel, pain, what are some other ways to avoid being human? sometimes it just happens. i've had time slow down to a snail's pace during an automobile accident. suddenly, i've gone in slow motion, turning the wheel this way and that. this must be more than simple fear, rather a place beyond it. fear is common to all animals, as is instinct. 

it's not just my awareness of time. a lot depends on my control over it. all machines depend on timing. my mother and shakespeare said everything does. and i have choice? alas, listening  to the biology professor robert sapolsky from stanford. i hear him say over and over again, 'there is no free will, everything depends on biology.

no wonder people hate science. it reinforces the tyranny of time. yet sapolsky saying so many variables involved, it makes me believe in free will, the exact opposite of what he wishes me to believe. with all the world and emotions floating within me, i believe i must have the ability to choose different paths to where i wish to go. 

and what about einstein? he discovered the speed of light doesn't change but time does. this is something we all know. a work day may last a day or an hour with the clock never changing it's tune. and the indian teacher chopra says two things make me old: my feeling little time left for me and the looks of other people. 

and what about THE FLOW, tapping into an action like catching a foul ball, or running the Iditarod? I'm carried by time in such a way it disappears! and so, maybe everything depends on me being super-interested, super-involved. always have something to look forward to. is that the lesson childhood can still teach me?

i wonder where i wander

i feel less guilt, knowing people's minds wander 30% of the time. ah, hah, i'm not quite so crazy as i thought. and the accusation i'm a daydreamer bears less weight. true, i've always looked out the window and no writer's wife believes he's working when he does that, nor does anyone else. but...

maybe i can't focus my mind on one thing without unduly stressing myself. for example, if the computer whacks out for some reason, i will go day and night to fix the problem. suddenly, my whole body starts shaking. the day goes black. i become incapable of doing anything. if i unfocus my eyes for a few minutes, i relax. making the brain forget everything except one thing must take a lot of work!

i'm not sure what consciousness is, and i find nobody else does either. i tend to think of it as this huge bubble, filled with floating objects: memories, bricks, hammers, outlines of tables, and so on. my consciousness keeps snatching at pieces and putting them together. even dreams i think of as my brain having fun, most of all when it feels like a nightmare. everything gets tossed up in the air and unlikely objects collide with each other, creating fantasies. 

well, the creative mind has to dream most of the time. and in so doing, i collect materials with have a mysterious infinity with each other. i imagine consciousness as much bigger than myself. if i limit my attention to a point, i leave out so much that might help me. i read somewhere we use 3% of our brain. that's astounding. how do i access the rest?

no wonder the modern world with it's lists, tableture, categories, definitions, loves DRUGS so much. they shake off our desperate grasp of the facts. for awhile i can float in pure perception, or misperception. i don't have to worry if things make sense. of course, this could be fatal if i suddenly feel i can fly and jump out a window. 

i've decided i can't make reality yield without letting go of it often. true, at such times i bump into walls, trip over ropes, stumble among the rocks. i do have to be careful to sit quietly in a chair at such times. as kafka said, rest peacefully  at your desk, don't do anything, and the world will roll at your feet in ecstasy. i won't say that has happened to me. that said, i find it easier than running around the block, getting the exercise i need. 

where will i sleep tonight?

a terrifying question, or it has become one. in my salad days i slept in the backseat of a greyhound bus all the way across canada, the place where smokers could still smoke. and crossing turkey by train, i slept in the luggage rack watching the folks below me parcel out food and play music. what has happened to my resilience? why do i have to plan ahead at least a week, maybe more.

no, i am a fake nomad. true, our family moved 32 times by the time i left high-school. and i've had to move 110 times to and from the lookout, not always knowing where i'd land in the winter. going to australia last year taught me a lesson. after 16 years of no travelling, i'd lost my travel skills. so i went back the next year to practice them. i worked. i could now sleep soundly with other bodies breathing around me.

i'd done it in coast guard boot camp and on the ship. i'd lived on trains in europe with my pass, locking the compartment door and stretching out over empty seats. of course, i lost my taste for this when the girl across from me did the same and had her pocket picked, not to mention the time i woke to find algerian guys going through my luggage. 

why do i now need a secure sleep? ah, lack of sleep one of the worst aging events, and i remember how the soviets changed prisoners characters by keeping them awake for two weeks with bright lights and loud sounds. going to sleep under the best circumstances means leaving my control behind. essentially insomnia comes from thinking constantly: how am i going survive? the  dark-minded philosopher cioran couldn't sleep and spent his paris nights walking all over the place. 

even after having six vw buses and sleeping on beaches, in the woods and suburbs, i don't seem to have kept that particular capacity for adventure. in fact, i realized this made me feel too lonely and i abandoned the process. swearing i would never have another vehicle in which i could hibernate. 

and this makes me wonder how the homeless do it. they do band together like hobos during the depression, sitting in bands at the downtown plaza, there always seems to be company, as well as a lot of arguments. a friend has a step-son who can sleep in ditches anywhere. in a catastrophe, could i do the same? perhaps if exhausted enough. 

despite my many peregrinations i come back to being terrified of being homeless. i couldn't waste my time on the computer, or even have the peace of mind to read. i could daydream. that's a luxury i've always allowed myself. yet it's hard to relax enough if i have wolves howling at the door. maybe as the end gets closer, i want to avoid as many deaths as possible. 

meetings with remarkable people: lorraine

i never got her last name. and i knew she wasn't that interested in me when she said, "it's strange, after i say goodbye to someone, i never contact them again." it was a white lie to dash any expectations i had. she did give me an email and it led to 

                            

                                            https://vimeo.com/outofthebluemountains 

videos she puts together for musicians in katoomba, australia, where i met her in the YHA youth hostel. from my diary:

Wish I could have recorded Lorraine's story, so interesting. And people come talk to her in the middle of the night while she's cleaning the kitchen. She still has a sense of wonder about things and people that happen to her, another member of the lucky generation.

i figure she's in her late fifties. she studied animation with a famous Czech film-maker in hobart, tasmania, and worked with disney studios until they abandoned australia. let's see what else i've got.

Did just make a short video of Lorraine give an harmonica lesson:

she showed videos of Jim Conway (famous australian harmonica player) and with whom she studied years ago & his group Captain Matchbox Whoopee Band: My Canary Has Circles Under Her Eyes:

Jim Conway, who now has MS.

Lorraine wants to set up an old Cinema Cafe. She has a storage space full of film equipment, old movies. etc. $240 a month for ten years.

i think that adds up to $52,800. 

talked with lorraine for a couple of hours. she loves doing the video documentaries. Father a navy office, played music & women. Lots of parent fights. Lorraine the oldest, children holding onto her as she watched parents fight. Once she stood between them, father grabbed her & threw her against a table. Mother German, maybe her perfectionism comes from there. 

She's bought & sold houses, taught by an architect she met doing drawings on the street. Learned to be an entrepreneur. At 17 she had a secure gov. job (some program trained her) ended up working with the architect (Swiss I think) who  created a company making jigsaw puzzles. She can make $40 in two hours busking with her harmonica. ESL son in Sydney moved in with his Korean girlfriend who's an operating room expert. Oldest of 8 children, 5 sisters, 3 brothers. Looking forward not back she's now being brought to understand herself. Very good at pattern recognition. 

too bad i can't convey all her expressions and interests, like fighting to build tiny houses, not the thing in australia. at the moment she has way too many interests, like the young irish bicyclist who made a pass at her! she sees him off on his travels. 

 She sometimes covers her mouth while talking & with the accent i have to ask for repeats. Once in awhile she's really struck by something I say & becomes very attentive. She said Paul the guy in my room gay, hard to get close to. Made me a little nervous! L's longest relationship 5 years. 

Recommended she get a job & regular income. Recommended museum guard & guard at construction sites. L's mother very creative making things. She said she already has a sense of accomplishment.

no doubt she'll be another invisible, if special and unusual, person to disappear without a trace. like the flowering tree i once saw behind the post office, blooming with spring and unnoticed by anyone.