234. NOT HERE NOW
A lot of things happened
along the way. Half of
them, I don't even know
what they were. If I
was ever born with a
script in-in-hand, I
know for sure that it
got lost or altered too
many times. Things
gone down through
the years to haunt,
or to mesmerize.
I was always getting
thrown or sidetracked.
Like this 'mesmerized'
thing; there was actually
a guy named Franz Mesmer,
who came up with the
concept and they named
it after him. He was a
scientist, and he came
up with this 'animal
magnetism' concept,
about 1850. I didn't
know much about
science, nor even care
to, but I knew right off
what this guy was up to,
or talking about. Energy
transference between
animate and inanimate
objects. Yes, as if the
world was one large
transfer-bowl between
consciousness and reality,
which I already knew it
was. The result was our
own manifested world.
Underway, and always
changing. With no fixed
points. Today called, oddly
enough, 'Quantum Physics.'
How I'd arrived there, 50
years ago and without any
education, was beyond me.
It seemed to hit right home,
tn the face of all the other
'life-is-a-boring-string-of
ordinary-events' stuff they
tried teaching us. I don't
think - to put it bluntly -
that any of my ostensible
'teachers' had ever come
up against a kid like me
before. I wasn't game for
their parody of human
events. And I could see
right through them. What
it came down to was
something they'd never
even considered, and a
something which would
have shattered all their
complacent, crap approaches
to 'teaching' and all that.
I had been dead, and had
come back to life, no,
dragged back, (it wasn't
quite my idea), returned
from that version of 'dead'
reading and seeing a
completely new light and
reference-compass. It, truly,
truly, did not include them.
It truly, truly, did not include
a lot of things - family and
home included. (Avenel, you
were my bad tattoo, my poorly
inked prison-version of a
shoulder-blot marked by
hand. I never did have it
removed, and it sure has
faded some but it's always
there). Voices have always
spoken to me, guiding me,
and projecting a version of
me forward. I was always
a card-reader, and each 'card'
presented to me represented
another working mentality,
another developed level of
consciousness waiting for
work. Everything is life
anyway is a mere symbolic
push for the truer reality
represented. Like those
monthly unemployment
statistics put out by the
government, by which
so much policy is made,
and then - after policy
is implemented - get
altered anyway. 'Revised
statistics for last month's
unemployment report', it's
called. So bogus and so
transparent - life is a
floating, fluid, situation,
always being read, mis-read,
revised, and changed. I
already knew all that. It
was just that, all my life,
there have been clowns
trying to instruct (for pay;
they're hired hands for
lying), that my life is a
fixed and well-boxed
scene. Al the cards
presented to me had
memory-levels of their
own. Were symbolic. And
were given to me in a
sort of dream-time, a time
of halves in which I found
myself living, What was valid,
and was what not. I was
never quite sure, just worked
the card. But as if in a vast
castle in a vaster kingdom,
each was a door in a corridor,
and each door brought me to
more and other doors, each
one richer than the one before
it. As, I grew up, and out, in the
same way, symbolically, as
in some aberrant Avenel,
grew into a small Shop-Rite,
still in town, then a larger
Shop-Rite, with improvements
and still on the same damned
Avenel Street, now a place of
nothing at all, and then out
to the highway, a better and
larger stream of things and
traffic passing by, constantly.
The original location now
dead. The new, large place,
replete with shimmering
crowds, a parking lot filled
with things passing, abandoned
cars and wrecked motors, yet
made 'valid' by all that too.
Expansion, of something.
-
I always had difficulty
justifying myself, yes
but mainly because I
never really knew from
where anything was coming.
or who I even was. No
one ever understood that
about me : not friends, not
bosses, not teachers, not
parents. I belonged to
no one. I wasn't even here.
presented to me had
memory-levels of their
own. Were symbolic. And
were given to me in a
sort of dream-time, a time
of halves in which I found
myself living, What was valid,
and was what not. I was
never quite sure, just worked
the card. But as if in a vast
castle in a vaster kingdom,
each was a door in a corridor,
and each door brought me to
more and other doors, each
one richer than the one before
it. As, I grew up, and out, in the
same way, symbolically, as
in some aberrant Avenel,
grew into a small Shop-Rite,
still in town, then a larger
Shop-Rite, with improvements
and still on the same damned
Avenel Street, now a place of
nothing at all, and then out
to the highway, a better and
larger stream of things and
traffic passing by, constantly.
The original location now
dead. The new, large place,
replete with shimmering
crowds, a parking lot filled
with things passing, abandoned
cars and wrecked motors, yet
made 'valid' by all that too.
Expansion, of something.
-
I always had difficulty
justifying myself, yes
but mainly because I
never really knew from
where anything was coming.
or who I even was. No
one ever understood that
about me : not friends, not
bosses, not teachers, not
parents. I belonged to
no one. I wasn't even here.
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