bra*n butter I

 

“This, is the movie I want to watch, right here. The one I’m making – and watching…”

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Coming outside to be writing with the winding trees and Pokee speaking, “me too” ‘s.

Inside technology does seem to loom, and cry: “Come back to me to let us fill your head with fears – controlling your evenings by roboticizing your next non-move; sit and consume our messages of ‘Everything we are doing supersedes the living of your own life: your life is #2, our roadshow is the one you want to be lulled by’ ” …

Writing of the day and thoughts and nonsense that seems to be the streaming ALIVE-WE-ARE.

Many times today without knowing I was lulled by inner trembly voices of “What if my heart is not healthy?” – or “What if it attacks itself and I die?” But now, listening to breezy leaves-stirring, music of the probabliest most-beautiful-angel clanking and opening, cutting and mixing and boiling in the kitchen, I am also noticing what seem to be more deeply natural questions like:

*Are the fearful images and thoughts that arise sometimes during the day, just recycled, refurbished versions of messaging that’s before made its way between the ears unknowingly???

*Are we taught in this authoritative culturish fever, to be red-hot with panicky undercurrents as we act and be???

*What would a “nation”, a “society”, a “religion”, a “culture” be without its people controlled and coerced, and going about as robots in a trance???

** To think, ah, that we truly think at all… but all words, all thoughts, are versions (memories) of something of someone’s we’ve been given or seen before;

** So what is newly ours, but the primary feeling that goes into the pen of the moment? What can be orginal but the funny style of what’s happening here?? And not words! None here of symbol is new – yet in the mixture of life which connects all together, allowing for this, there is feeling if seems felt and gone all at once – a fifty river into going-along.

A proposed habituality is: Fuck what says our own roadshow is not what counts the most; that the culture we are creating here with our close friends and family, the trees and the bees, is not that which deserves our happy attention.

To ditch the screens and close the windows of worlds not our own is to us success today: to be outside this evening in the midst of magic.