this mass of physical energy all twisted up in it's experience : as if it's being vomited up by something.

i've been feeling this way all my life. even as a child, i felt myself vacillating between being god's erection and his compulsive gagging at the sight of this bright satisfaction. glorious weekend moments of contemplating the multi-dimensionality of this strange new life i was being introduced to were paired with deeply disturbing fits of crying before school. the beautiful moments were as they are now: deeply unconscious. the painful ones were likewise as they still are now: deeply conscious.

a consolidation of vibrations, i find myself bored and repulsed by others that take themselves seriously. they seem so pathetic: expressing opinions as if they actually cared about anything, talking through emotional lapses, and quite simply–taking themselves seriously. billions of years. billions of people. billions of experiences. billions of same. billions of different. how could one be sustainably identified with their self-importance in this swampy soup of whatever? everyone's cares seem so small and stupid.

then i think of my talk of helping others, or rather directly acting to provide others with food, water, health care, and education. how could that be meaningless? could it really be? this is the great challenge. everyone else i do and think is so clearly empty. but could this action/choice on a daily basis truly be something worth doing? could this deserve even a slightly serious attitude? the best i can do otherwise is just an uptight social concern for approval or winning.