A step back
"Where do you live?"
A simple question for those who don't know the real question.
Those who see the second level see/hear/know: "Where does your 'self' reside?"
A question now arises as to how much of this has been triggered by something I've just read. Brain physiology/working, as much as I know of it, suggests that it was there already. Queued up, waiting to emerge. What stimulus or concatenation of stimuli ended up with this, here, now? And that word 'concatenation'? I've never used it before. Don't know where or when I first (and perhaps only the once) came across it but it just came out of somewhere, that 'passive' memory I have and...I've used it correctly.
A word that, 5 minutes ago, to all intents and purposes did not exist.
And no, this isn't espousing (another word - almost ditto) the theory that reality is a narrow creation of the chemical processes of the mind. That's old hat and even if...I'll let you finish that sentence.
I can do that cause I know that you and I and whoever will all say the same.
This isn't a delightful: "I live here in these words, in this '2D one oh one real unreality' for you and when I'm having a good day, I live among the stars!"
Part of it does seem to be a response to something just read though - and that's where I feel like I'm creating reality. In more ways than just creating black on white that reads the same (almost) to all who pass this way. If you will, I'm changing the part of me I give/create to make a link to the final nudge that got me started. And so I grow. And change. And become and am.
So now I have a self within, a self inside a box and selves you create. Schroedinger's cat; I am and I am (not).
Which hasn't moved me forward at all. I've lost the thought I was originally grappling with, trying to pull its eelskin self from among the other slippery selves that writhed in living creation before me.
I live among the trash and the yesterday's shiny that you never want to know.
I live in dreams and hopes and unwanted attention that exist because we share a care.
I live in Time's never-ending corridor.
I live in bricks we'd built to better ourselves. But I was not there.
I live in cotton candy land, 3 steps short of Heaven.
I think I might have to move this post. I got lost.
A better question might have been "When do you live?"
Does that count?
A simple question for those who don't know the real question.
Those who see the second level see/hear/know: "Where does your 'self' reside?"
A question now arises as to how much of this has been triggered by something I've just read. Brain physiology/working, as much as I know of it, suggests that it was there already. Queued up, waiting to emerge. What stimulus or concatenation of stimuli ended up with this, here, now? And that word 'concatenation'? I've never used it before. Don't know where or when I first (and perhaps only the once) came across it but it just came out of somewhere, that 'passive' memory I have and...I've used it correctly.
A word that, 5 minutes ago, to all intents and purposes did not exist.
And no, this isn't espousing (another word - almost ditto) the theory that reality is a narrow creation of the chemical processes of the mind. That's old hat and even if...I'll let you finish that sentence.
I can do that cause I know that you and I and whoever will all say the same.
This isn't a delightful: "I live here in these words, in this '2D one oh one real unreality' for you and when I'm having a good day, I live among the stars!"
Part of it does seem to be a response to something just read though - and that's where I feel like I'm creating reality. In more ways than just creating black on white that reads the same (almost) to all who pass this way. If you will, I'm changing the part of me I give/create to make a link to the final nudge that got me started. And so I grow. And change. And become and am.
So now I have a self within, a self inside a box and selves you create. Schroedinger's cat; I am and I am (not).
Which hasn't moved me forward at all. I've lost the thought I was originally grappling with, trying to pull its eelskin self from among the other slippery selves that writhed in living creation before me.
I live among the trash and the yesterday's shiny that you never want to know.
I live in dreams and hopes and unwanted attention that exist because we share a care.
I live in Time's never-ending corridor.
I live in bricks we'd built to better ourselves. But I was not there.
I live in cotton candy land, 3 steps short of Heaven.
I think I might have to move this post. I got lost.
A better question might have been "When do you live?"
Does that count?
posted by jonny at 10:18 PM
2 Comments:
depends where time resides
For all eternity: in our hearts.
Because it is something we treasure so much and abuse too often.
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