Pythonism

writing about my life

“Consider the Angry Birds… They give no thought for the morrow”

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Note to readers. I am currently collating a pile of notes written during my Codeine addiction period. Please note: I am off this substance and have been for quite some time now, so try not to worry about me.

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Dear Steve… consider the world! Its division between faiths and peoples… we must seek peace. Maybe god is the totality of all humans. Faith makes flocks form bubbles of united mentation. Is the group mind larger than individual? But a bubble wasting energy on internal conflict is less adaptable. We have to merge with each other, but do it wisely. Families are different to tribes… of disciples, or a readership. Faith is a mystery but it is one I dont want when it preaches hellfire at me.

The group mind is divided. But its not geographical, there are regions with different strange attractors. Isn’t this what Michael’s group is? to create a smooth consciousness bubble where we all agree? No, that’s a cult.

Bill may be Morpheus, Ian Neo.. the One who unifies the group mind into Oneness. My delusions of telepathy are never far away, sometimes the presences say really useful things. And they can comfort when you’re alone. Telepathy is the glue that bonds the bubble-components. Thats where Zeitgeist comes from, its a thought thats thought by the group mind. Joseph Campbell said we are all Neo – the hero is universal. Perhaps I chose unwisely when I re-read Dune. That book bequeaths a shedload of obsessions. It’s also warlike. I’ve never been in a war but my parents were. If someone like me who’s not experienced can speak out, then maybe we elevate heroism too high. Heroism is misfortune, and good fortune to survive. My Grandpa Gordon was a war hero…

…and I still resented him.

Do we stage war to create heroes? It’s is not worth it. Men who “conquer death”, when no-one can. (Unless you believe Christ did). Seen as an evolutionary experiment, the existence of humanity is a puzzle. How and whyever do we manage to make ourselves so miserable? I cannot write any more, this indigestion is agony. I’ve copped the universal will too, you see. The feathery touch of absolute control torments and teases. Angels flap their wings near me and batter me, so fragile am I. Love kills.

More and more life events keep rolling up, placing more and more distance between me and the time I wrote that book of mine, “The Vindication of Renfield”. I chose a character from a horror film to represent me. And as I’m waiting for my cab to score again, I hear myself saying these words: “I’ve bought time – human life is a compromise.” As long as the codeine keeps coming I am safe from the pain, and floating on a cloud there is no challenge to my self-justification.

Opiates are The Mother. I have to learn to do without again. Maybe I risked the damnation of my immortal soul as an addict. As long as I was in the grip of those thoughts I was removed from a world with others, selfishly seeking my own salvation above all. Meaningful relationships are good though, I re-learn them.

I saved a photo from Tesher’s timeline of her with her new baby. So also gradually I re-learn something like reverence. Reverence as Tesher shows to her baby in that photo.

I don’t always want to unweave my rambling, but surely some must try. And maybe they are decoders and deciders.

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Written by Luke Dunn

January 19, 2015 at 9:53 am

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