deep sleepnessness

"I believe that all my imaginistic work is composed during deep sleep. But I am very seldom aware of dreaming."
[bells ringing]
"For me, even worse than blindness or deafness would be sleepnessness... sleepnessness..."
[bells ringing]
"... sleepnessness... I believe that all of my imaginistic work is composed during deep sleep. But I'm very seldom aware of dreaming... sleepnessness..."
[bells ringing]
"I believe that all of my imaginistic work is composed during... But I'm very seldom aware of dreaming..."

"Eleven o'clock marks the change. And the change is the Alternative Bedtime Hour. Delirium in the background right now... Bill Nelson, "Sleepnessness"... Stress, "My Father Once Said"... Bad Big King, Carcass... From the Residence Dedication to Elvis, "Baby King, Part FIVE"... Fred, "The Miss X Mix of Rosebud"... And bug powder and all, William S. Burroughs, "What are We Here for?"... Sort of an eternal question, isn't it?"

The Moon?

"And what am I to do in the meanwhile?"

"Perhaps you could find out something else... There must be something which could be brought against... and then dropped, according as to whether... comes to... senses or not."

"Of course that could be done. What about this?"

"Look! Keep the peace and be of good behaviour... I have to keep the peace... I'm glad I'm in good with my P.O. now..."
"Cool. Anyways, nothing really changed for me... Yeah, you saw that?! The whole time... Anyway, uh, I have to go to a community service... two grams... He's like, 'You're selling it aren't you?' Who's a happy...?"
"Actually, ..."
"You know what I was doing?"

***

Disgust or hatred, terror, anguish and despair are the sentiments that she might have experienced in her servitude to time. Unfortunately, for her there can be no time. A mere mortal has the capacity to experience a certain amount of anxiety when contemplating the fact that s/he could die at any moment. This is not my fate. I am experiencing acute anxiety because I will never die at any time.
Lupe, tristitia
Child of the Light and of the gods,
Taedium
Behold, I am in exile, seperated from them.
Phobos, timor, ekplexis, stupor, pavor, expavescentia
My enemies fell upon me,
And carried me
aporia, consternatio, amekhania
All in ignorance

Since I went forth into the Darkness,
Agnoia, ignorantia
I was given a water to drink which was bitter to me.
I bear a burden which does not belong to me

I am in the midst of my enemies,
The beast surrounding me;
The burden which I bear
Is of the powers and principalities.

Matter and her children
Divided me up amongst them.
They burn me in their fires,
They give me a bitter likeness.

The strangers with whom I have mixed,
Know me not;
They tasted my sweetness,
They desired to keep me with them.

I am life to them,
And yet I live not.


Deliver me from this profound nothingness,
This ache without end
From the abyss which is all torment,
And in which there is neither helper or friend!

Never, never is salvation found here;
Where there can be no growth nor entropy
I will occupy this same form eternally

I am a god
And a
Resplendent demon
Yakshas and peris

I am a somber inexorable dragon.
They make me
See death and pain.
They rush upon me...

ELUSIVE

the main event

So, lets say that there's one main event that can be split into an infinite number of events. These multiple events could be infinite in and of themselves. We could call that the universe, if we were so inclined. And then we've got time which is just the by-product of gravity/electro-magnetivity and mass. Time is the infinite unfolding of events in a certain order. We could also call this infinite unfolding 'cause'.

We are just so many of these events, and we're surrounded by an infinite number of other events. What we do is, we go about naming these events. We can't help but observe them around us and when we do that we can't help but pick out similarities; some events are like others, some are not like others.

Any questions so far?

...?...

Well, just attribute it to C.Gibson at the end of the 20th century.

"I CRIED, YOU DIDN'T LISTEN"

Look at dis fuckin report, Maro! Jus look at it! Look at K Jan! I’s garbled all to hell, but he’s finally addressin... He’s comin to terms wid what he really did. D’whole reason why he’s in here. Maro. It’s progress. I know it is. I can feel it.


There were three hours before Billy’s parents would come home. He spent it putting together a shareholder presentation. He got out some flip-charts and some brightly coloured markers. He carefully wrote:

Rebranding Strategy
Rebranding property in question? Babyface.
Critical path to be followed? Fire. Initiate police investigation. Buckle down on grades. Seek new sponsors.
___________________________________________________________

He surveyed this strategy carefully. He knew that he needed to flesh out each point, listing pros and cons, using a separate sheet for each, tacking them to the cork-rail that ringed the family room. One can recycle cork. It’s true. He succeeded in writing out an agenda, just as his Aunt Barbara walked in the door. Billy’s father was obviously his VP of Operations. But it was Billy’s soul that supervised and approved any changes in policy or procedure that the family needed to manage. He could still feel Billy supervising as he filled out the Notice of Intent to Terminate. Billy’s soul and Barbara went through his things.

Billy and Principal Andromeda Holt went all the way back to kindergarten, his kindergarten, that is. Andromeda Holt knew and appreciated his style: refined, controlled, and above all, personal. Always one-on-one, they both possessed a certain degree of charm and subtlety. Or was it snobbery? Slobbery? I forget. The details are fuzzy, now. I do know that Billy thought it was this shared expression of personal style that kept him so close to the principal, granted him immunity. And perhaps it was. Up until I decided to interfere, that is.

Yeah, I clocked her one. I clocked her good when I found out what was going on between them. That’s what I felt she deserved. But Billy wouldn’t tell anyone. He kept saying that he LOVED her. And it’s not like I could ever rat anybody out. I know enough not to do that. Gawd, I would end up like that fuckin pussy, Dwight E. Abbott. He wrote that fuckin book, I CRIED BUT YOU DIDN’T LISTEN. Fuckin blamin everyone else for my woes. Fuckin pussy. He’s always been such a fuckin pussy. So, that’s how I ended-up getting put away the first time. And that’s when I first started to choose the path to hell. Or rather, I felt that this path had already been chosen for me and I was simply along for the ride.

SOMEBODY HAS TO PAY

Goddam janitor’s been at it again, goin through my files and messin dem up. Goddam. Goddam. Gonna write him up for sure. Kinda reminds me o’de time... When Prin... Well, wasn’t that...? Yeah, de time when Prin’s place got robbed, de time she was tryin to live without d’help of her parents. D’apartment got totally trashed cuz de burglars were pissed off der was nothin worth stealin. Eventually, Prin realized that dey had stolen some of her underwear.

What made me think o’dat again? Oh yeah, de janitor. Wha’s his name again? Paco. Right. Put another dime in the meter for janitor Paco. Ha ha. Gonna write him up for sure, goddammit. Wha’s he goin through my goddam files for anyway. I know dey been messed-up. I put dis one here, an’ow i’s over here. Wha’da fuck. I know it was him. He’s a spy for Kretschmar. I jus know it. Tryin to drive me crazy. Movin things around on me. Good thing I got Maro on surveillance for me. So now I got proof. I just got no one to tell about it. Ha ha.