?

Log in

Previous Entry

CLE ELUM LAKE JOURNAL

LAKE CLE ELUM – CABIN JOURNAL                                                          

02-29-16

            Yesterday felt like my goodbye to civilization and, today too, I felt an urge, like some last-ditch effort to greedily indulge in all those things I will soon no longer be able to enjoy.  A beautiful 24 year old girl came to my room and I devoured her, savored her, as if she were a last meal, of a sort.  It was her birthday, although I was so swept up in the sex and drugs she brought, I completely forgot to give her her present – a necklace of a black sun (left on my nightstand by some other girl, from 2 weeks prior.)

          
            03-02-16

            The day became a long stretch of doubt and sleep – no communication in or out, only the thought of it. Finally, I found reason enough to go to town; I needed to call in a refill. Once I was there, I thought to buy some bananas, as it is important to begin the fast with a healthy non-inflammatory prebiotic in the stomach, as that is the food that will be sitting, unmoved, in the gut throughout the extent of the fast.

            So I bought bananas. Then I bought a pizza. I drove by the pizza place twice, fighting the idea, then drove most of the way home and two towns away, in Ronald, WA, called mom. After that typical stressful call, I drove all the way back, realizing the urge would stay with me into the next day if I did not satiate it.  Shameful business, but THAT was the last ditch goodbye to food, definitely. Probably.

            There’s something bumping and scraping against the house outside. My heart races in bed as I listen closely. Something heavy sinking into the snow.



“It is as if there were in human consciousness a sense of reality, a feeling of objective presence, a perception of what we call ‘something there, ‘ more deep and more general than any of the special and particular ‘senses’ by which the current psychology supposes existent realities to be originally revealed.”
                                   -William James,
“The Varieties of Religious Experience”– 2nd Ed.,
The Reality of the Unseen (p. 58).

Our evolution through species has been one of continual and stepwise development into higher and more refined sensory capacities. From our origins of the most rudimentary of nervous systems, sensing vibrations in the air, as, gradually, the crudest forms of olfaction and visual organs introduced new dimensions of our surrounding stimulus, to which we had previously been unable to sense. Seeing this universal and natural pattern, present and active in all conscious life, the rational biologist is left with the question, “What will be our next sense?”

The healthy body and mind wait beneath layers of illness and indulgence, the sediment of years of neglect and poor habits. My brain is genetically susceptible to degradation, and so the neuronal resiliency attained by fasting is of special importance to me. BDNFs, released during ketogenesis, not only protect the neurons, while scouring out dangerous amyloid-beta plaques, but also spur neuronal growth, increasing plasticity.

In other words, stay hungry and sharp! Keep the eyes clear and bright.

03-03-16

In the pines
In the pines
They watch down from the pines
Though you no longer remember

If the stomach is full and busy, then the mind doesn’t like to think.
– German Proverb

“All the vitality and energy I have comes to me because my body is purified by fasting.”
“The light of the world will illuminate within you, when you fast and purify yourself.”
– Gandhi

Ate only bananas and raw spinach/kale today, although I found the spring mix foliage went down a lot better with a bit of plain yogurt on it, topped with Tabasco, salt, and ground pepper.

Went to Seattle to get drums and refills. I wanted to get as much of the traveling and busy-ness done as I could, before the weakness of the fast kicks in. Even on this light prebiotic food, I am noticing some mental clarity and a reduction in pain in the legs, although my back and legs did hurt all day today.


BIG FAT JOHN HARDLY NOTICED ANYTHING
BIG BAD JOHN HARDLY NOTICED ANYTHING
SWUNG DOWN THAT STONE ON HIS HEAD, AND NOW I SING
BIG BAD JOHN HARDLY NOTICED ANYTHING

THIN METAL RAYS THEY ALL TURN IN LAYERS,
LIKE THE INTRICATE CLOCKWORK OF THE SUN
IF ALL THINGS ARE CONSIDERED, GOD IS LAZY,
JUST RESTING SINCE THAT DAY THAT HE WAS DONE.

AND IF I WERE TO ONE NIGHT CLIMB UP INSIDE IT,
AND HIDE AWAY IN THE GEARS, ALL UNSEEN,
THE CLOSEST ONES TO ME STILL WOULDN’T BUY IT,
BE SEEN, BUT NEVER TELL EM WHERE YOU’VE BEEN.

A grid of living wood stretches into the sky,
Like the wound net of latitude and longitude,
Twisting, branching, and alive with gnarly growth.
Hungry leaves burst from nodes in the network
Reaching out to collect and encode information.
Wavelength specific channels of sunlight,
They rotate and open their satellite fronds for better reception.


Everything is very strange...

I just saw a grown man on a dirt bike, on top of a high hill in a historic cemetery, putting on his sunglasses dramatically, as he was getting ready to jump the bike -- assumably off a gravestone?

Godspeed to you, Rocketman! You deserve your own episode on one of these surreal backwoods TV shows about your home.


“Unless you take things to extremes, nobody will believe or pay attention to you.”
 –David Bowie

            I walked in the national forest today, seeing that, even there, the rich people have their log cabin getaways lined up along the mountaintops; massive, freshly-built, and mostly empty. I know this only because I peeked in the windows of several of them, smiling for the cameras they had mounted in the eaves. And, perhaps, some part of me is simply jealous of their wastefulness, for the freedoms of seclusion they’ve bought with all that money and its influence. Yet, the fact that nearly every one of these rustic mansions was abandoned, and had been for months, led me to suspect they were too busy working to earn that freedom of seclusion to be able to enjoy it; he probably wouldn’t know what to do with absolute seclusion, if he truly had it.  I sure’s the hell don’t!

            Part of my reasoning for fasting in a mountain cabin was, yes, to overcome the pain and weakness that has gradually worsened since my meeting Jillian – just over 3 years ago, now.  And, yes, part of me acknowledges a spiritual aspect to my immune condition; the slow degradation of my state since that first possession experience in 2004. Yet, in truth, some part of me devised this plan of isolation from society as a device to overcome my own slothfulness; the logic being that, if I had no Facebook or social interaction to distract me, I would have no choice but to dive into the obligations, projects, and life goals that have, for years – decades – taken the backseat to the immediate fulfillment of scrolling through my friends feed, indulging in that online persona, its vain attention-seeking and petty frienemy bullshit. By cutting the cord (even the 4G wireless “cord,” that is so difficult to find a place where it doesn’t permeate) I hoped I might rise from my shameful bedridden condition and, in a state of health, clarity, vitality, and sensitivity renewed by the deep fasting, would be both standing and in rare form, as if the fast would allow me to dig down beneath the illness to access the peak self that has come to be obscured by the affliction.
            While all good on paper, putting this scheme into actual practice has proven to be a real challenge. Fasting remains one of the most difficult feats of self-control I’ve attempted and, as I fail, again and again, to maintain the empty-bellied resolve through the morning untilI lay down to sleep at night, I slip up when underslept, stressed, and in town, with all its down-homey and accommodating restaurants.
            Saw a herd of 20 or so elk today, as they crossed the newly paved road and climbed the steep hill alongside one of the log mansions. Those rich sonsabitches don’t deserve such natural splendor!  From their massive glass fronted living rooms, you can see the whole valley, down to the mountain lake, glimmering with sunshine, etc., etc….


Tangle your life in with my tangles,
Tangle and tangle, twisting together.
There are no memories forgotten, only hidden,
Beneath layers of change and tangles of language.

It is hard to argue with an hourglass,
Or the hidden life of sand, long dead.
The undersea stories of aeons, forgotten.
Ignored in our boredom, waiting for death.

And what time will our own remnants mark?
Bleached bones of an era, our time in the sun,
Spent indoors playing Nintendo,
Chasing magic mushrooms to make us seem bigger
than we actually are.

3-9-16

Hiked to Lake CleElum yesterday.

Pure Resonance Enacts Change Without Conscious Intention

Last night, I had a dream of utilizing resonance, in the body, to enact powerful change. It was already a well-established system that I merely modulated electrochemically, by applying this pure tone to the back of the neck of two women. The modulated information then manifested in behavior – in this case, an instinctual fight/flight response – of which they were unconscious and had no memory of later. This resonance-based system was abbreviated MOTH, although what that stood for is a mystery to me.

This dream, following many sleepless hours in bed, well past 3 AM, trying to meditate, but coming up against my own fears; the intense residual anxiety that remains after those traumatic spiritual experiences.  Instead of calm deep breathing and focus, I found myself, again and again, hyperventilating with terror, afraid of letting myself go and surrendering, completely and fully, to the divine in this cold and isolate place.  I have doubts about what that fully-vulnerable type of meditation may open, especially if I begin to integrate fasting and ayahuasca!

--

And night comes again and the day is wasted again, and no amount of isolation can give me back all the time and youth I’ve lost to my own selfish comforts. Although there’s something like waiting I once did, believing the time would soon enough be right to say what needed to be said, and be what I needed to be, this pretention soon fell away, eroded by the torrent of lost days, until the shameful truth beneath it finally had nothing but my idle hands to hide it.  It is a new kind of waiting that replaced this waiting for the right moment, the acceptance that the moment will not come, or perhaps was there, but is no longer; the kind of waiting familiar to the man who stares blankly at the cracks on the ceiling from his hospital bed, only vaguely aware of the identity of the woman who cleans the shit from his ass, the woman who kisses him and sits by his bedside. And, yet, this new waiting, for a new right moment, is filled with fear, just the same.  Toiling at chewing, gnawing away at my own brain through the roof of my mouth, tongue swelled, drooling, incoherent and useless, there is only one possible moment that could be called “right,” at this point, and I wait for it…

 

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
prof_it_e
Jul. 15th, 2016 06:56 pm (UTC)
Know the Feeling...
"...indulging in that online persona, its vain attention-seeking and petty frienemy bullshit." Damned if you do... Damned if you don't?
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

Latest Month

March 2016
S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Tags

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow