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imageIf your dead and you somehow didn’t know you died and you are walking around as a image of what you think and nothing more, how do you wake up to not being alive?

Ah, I know that sounds fucked up. But what if its real. The thing that is more fucked is I know certain other things that happened to me that are real but sound more fucked up then being dead and not knowing it.

Certain shit I didn’t talk about in my blog post “I Can See Past The Fear”.  I didn’t want to sound so far off the deep end that no-one would give any perception of reality to what I was conveying.

Some shit in life you don’t know what the fuck it means. So since you can’t understand it you have to reduce it to something that sounds good so it makes some sense to you so you can live with yourself. It doesn’t mean “you know” anything.   It actually means that you can’t really accept not knowing it so you have to put it in a box of thought that makes you feel okay and believe now you supposedly know what you didn’t know. Which is a bunch bullshit because you still don’t know shit you just think you do. Its easier for the brain to believe in a thought that isn’t real then accept it doesn’t know “what is”, so the deluded sense of “I” can be okay. I am kind of past the “being okay shit” and somehow can reconcile myself to being “out to lunch” with not being that concerned with people thinking i am totally fucked up, I still give a shit about what people think but I am willing to walk further out on the ledge of sanity or maybe insanity then I have before. I also give credence to the idea that others may be more aware of what I am not. Allowing myself the idea “they” understand it; whatever it is, better then I. That credence doesn’t fill me with confidence it just helps me not run down to the nearest street corner with a bull horn telling you all what I know.

This is a pretty raw description of some experiences I had in my fall with cocaine. I talk about it from what I perceive. I am not saying I under stand it but you cant go through hell without wanting to think you learned something from it.

Their is a changing point or maybe its a transition you reach when using cocaine for a long time, that after a period of time of using it, what ever constitutes being alive and dead transitions or what I am trying to say is being more one then the other. So alive to dead shifts to more dead then alive. The only refrrence to words or thought any of that dead/live shit means is the limitations of life and the boundaries brought down by death are exposed. Not completely of course but they do shift. The brains ability to think “what is” and the physical manifestations of life invert. The walls of perception that keep us limited to a understanding of our thought are reduced and diminish as we die. By removing the thought the brain evokes, there is; what is, without a thought to cover it up.

Certain bugs appear seemingly out of now where when something reaches a certain level of decomposition. Be it fruit flies on a banana or what have you. Certain little bugs appear in dry cat food after a few days. Still water breeds a certain worm or egg. Everything has a specific bug that feeds off the decomposition. After two or three days of using cocaine a certain specific fly would appear and land on my head as I used in my computer room. It grossed me out if I thought about it but I knew it was attracted to the odor of decomposition of what was more dead then alive in me.

After about 2 or 3 days of using the coke running water anywhere in the house would give off a symphony of sound and the limitations of knowing running water opposed to being running water are revealed. I come to believe running water was or is a miracle  we attempt to understand but don’t have a clue. Running water is a essential component to our life and it speaks to us in a way we or “I” can no longer hear as our brain is so full of thought we can not hear what it says to us

After one period of time I had been using coke for almost two weeks and trying to kill myself by over dosing on it. I had a episode with my neighbor who wanted to buy a Palm Tree in my yard which i was eager to use the money to continue to die. What happened as I was digging it up for her and what she witnessed was part of what I could see. The words I use to try to find a way to describe this will leave holes in what you perceive but I cant tell it in a way that makes sense to anyone so be with this what you may. It was around 10pm and I had been high for about 10 or 12 days. I had not eaten or drank much of anything in that time. My heart was pounding with a rapid thready pulse almost all of that time. I thought to myself before I stated shoveling the dirt that i probably am to weak to do this and I will more then likely die of a heart attack if I don’t pass out as trying to stand on my feet was tiring enough. Once I began I noticed two adult or late teen kids walk up to the beginning of my driveway from the street. They paused their and seemed to huddle around 4 or 5 early teen kids they brought with them. The two older ones waited at the road and anytime I looked at them they turned their back to me but the 5 kids walked up and sat or stood close by my side as I continued to dig up the tree. I had no idea who they where and when ever I asked them what they were doing they said nothing but looked at me and smiled. I thought it was the oddest thing seeing this kids just lazily gathered around me in a relaxed 5 or 6 foot circle. My neighbor was next to me part of the time I was digging up the palm tree I was going to give her that she was paying me for. I had mentioned to her a few times about how I was baffeled with who these kids where which my neighbor just gave me a dumb smile when ever i brought it up. A few days later when I remembered what had happened and I was astonished thinking I had been hallucinating talking to her about the kids who i was seeing around me digging up the tree. I called her up and apologized for being so deluded and stuff. She said she never saw any little kids around me but she did see the two grown kids standing by the road. Which she thought was odd. I was speechless when she said that and can’t help assume a reason why or what those kids might have been waiting for.

I haven’t been the same since that time and it makes me even wonder if I’m Alive now as my life is so disfigured. Nothing is as it was in my life and nothing seems to make a lot of sense to me. I feel so disconnected to people, my friends and my family or no longer in my life. It reminds of “The Sixth Sense” and maybe I did die back then as a lot of the confusion in my life would make more sense.

I have been living without electricity for almost a year. My cats don’t come inside the house anymore and outside they seem to be incredibly close to me. Almost like we speak with out words. My family is not anywhere close to me in any sense of the word. I can’t seem to make a living in doing anything for anyone.

I assume I have broken walls of myself with the drug abuse that is making it impossible to cohabitate with the material world. I feel like I see God in so many ways and I’m looking at people ignorant of themselves and I am the fool.

I’m pissed at God. What’s fucked about that is I know a thought  is what I am mad at because you can’t know God. So the thought I use to communicate with God is what is broken so by getting mad at God its actually the thought that “I” is mad at and in being mad at God which is the thought “I” will drop the thought in not wanting to know God then in removing the problem which is the thought. God; which is not a thought, is. That is all God can ever be. God is, what is.

I keep writing in the blog as, what is, comes at me. I have sent Sean from NBC a few connections to various blogs that show the meaningless of the thought of God to her as a way of trying to show her what I was trying to show her on EP when I knew she was watching me. Like then so now she does not witness me playing with or observing I, she only thinks of what I am. I am sure it is quite stuppid looking at me writing about pouring a cup of tea that I have no cup for the tea that “I” want to pour.

“I” is trying to stay pissed at God so  “I can attempt to stop thinking God but I am afraid “I” am to far gone.  I don’t know how to get home because I doesnt live there anymore. Which almost makes the small amount of “I” want to cry for itself for not being here anymore.

The last time I sent Sean a text with a link to my blog she pretended to be someone else and say that her number had changed. I played dumb with that as I don’t blame her.  Who wants to know the reality they think is real is  a joke. So even if whatever I is has a clue. I is lost to the world and pretty much a fool. All my family and most all my friends have all closed the door to what ever I am.

The more lost I seems to get. The less I care.