Journal

Still cannot describe the feelings I have; about me, about the universe. I am pretty sure that time is a human invention and that it does not really exist outside our minds; the universe does not happen in time. At least time has no direction, one of our biggest mistakes.

I am healing, it is slow and painful; there are more set-backs than progresses. No one seems to understand what it is to have an illness that settles in the mind and makes that mind confuse its circuitry wholly. It is not necessarily a bad experience but it is the total lack of respect for the apparently normal brains that makes things so much worst, that make us feel that much more like exceptions.

Our society requires conformity, if only to understand time as a universal constant, but that also becomes ideology, demagoguery and murder since those responsible are those controlling our societies. W.S. Burroughs has it right in “Cities of the Red Night” and “Place of Dead Roads” where a pirates society called the Articles celebrates individual rights and freedoms and allows members to settle their differences in any manner they choose, some ways incur great penalties and others ensure the survival of the colony. Every one is responsible for every one else.

 

 

It has been a difficult time. My work is on hold, art is all that makes sense. Thinking about time, Science Fiction time which is no time at all. Aboard the TARDIS or some North American version. Somehow, I think it looks a lot like a muscle car with a little cardboard tree hanging off the rear view mirror. Swinging to and fro.

The road at night a long triangle with a solid yellow line, sometimes doubled, dotted, either side dotted solid alternating at every turn. Blink, blink, blink. Brrrrrrt, sleep alert, the car realigns with the tarmac; and the lines. The triangle becomes focussed anew.

But I seem to be ill, sick or some such thing

My symptom is mania from ode to joy to funeral dirge

No stops in between.

 

Hard to say how it feels. Hard to feel how I say.

It is all a little complex

A little weird

Factoids lost in Time and Space.

Patience, the virtue

The virtuous walk through

Obstacles

Tripping over feet unknown.

 

Dear Reader,

I have the unfortunate business of telling you I have been incarcerated in a ward of the Health Sciences. This is an attempt of trying to express the odd sensations thoughts I am experiencing. This includes very strange behaviours of my keyboard, auto correct and software. Connected, I hope not.

As usual the story is one of images and words, neither completing the other, both having a role to play in defying time and the linear. All happens at once, time is an invention and our mistake is to give it a direction.

Exhibit 1