Something even bigger happened later that night, after my last post.  I’m not going to reveal all the details but I wound up talking to John about the three crazy levels of my mind, or the two sane and one crazy level, or the three sane levels that make me crazy because one of them is polarized against the others.  I have this one regular level that’s pretty rational, carries me around the world, does my job and reads my comic books.  Then I have another one that receives angelic transmissions of a very high frequency from the spheres of Saturn, Mars, and Venus.  And then I have one that rolls around in an endless nebula of pop-culture imagery and fantasies about famous people.  This one is kind of entertaining but it flows at a crosscurrent to the other two.  It’s too sordid and sensual for the spiritual level, and I don’t have enough money on the day-to-day level to act out any of the crazy scenes I enjoy.

Well John is really a very amazing shaman and after years of working with him on this it finally came to a conclusion.  I was talking from my rational side, but he’d finally gotten me to admit that I had some enormous pain in my past somewhere.  He kept nagging me until I began to shift the tone of my voice into the higher pitch I use when I’m daydreaming in the nebulous zone.  I literally moved back and forth between the two modes while I was talking to him, instead of just talking about one while I’m in the other, which is what I’ve done in the past.  I could feel the shifting point.  I could feel that I was totally numb at that point, that the transition point between the modes is a blind spot, I can’t detect from either side and I’m rarely aware that I’ve crossed it.  But pointed out the numb blankness, the contradictory pain that I couldn’t feel.  

Because I couldn’t feel it.  It wasn’t a “reliving” experience like a Freudian abreaction or a method acting thing, it was a kind of awareness so vast that I still can’t describe it.  I may have to figure out something to call it other than “pain”.  

So now instead of switching from one mode to the other, I remember this experience I had last night.  The blank space isn’t “blank” any more.  I can feel it when I hit it and instead of going from one mode to the other I can hang on to both.  

So this is a whole new world for me.  It’s fascinating that the cosmos arranged for it to happen a few days after I started blogging about politics and wanting to resolve my own contradictions.  This is definitely a powerful magical experience for me, extending over several days.

And on top of that I had the most distinct and full experience of channeling that I’ve ever had, but that’s another story, which I will probably tell later as I want to make a very detailed narrative of this weekend.

And then this morning I woke up and lay in bed for a while daydreaming about David Gilmour and his solo on “Comfortably Numb”, and I understand now why that is my favorite guitar solo of all time, and I think I’m going to figure a bunch of things out now about why I’m interested in the kinds of art I’ve been interested in.

Something just happened that I have no explanation for, and it’s not even midnight yet.  However, I am continuing to write, and the insane spirits of the dead do continue to haunt me.  There’s always been a blank space in my mind, and this has to do with having been an American Soldier during World War Two, and seen a whole field full of dead bodies and also liberated a concentration camp and this being very unpleasant made me want to kill everyone everywhere for all time.  And so of course I had some unfinished business with the world when I died almost immediately thereafter by means of a conveniently-placed hand grenade.

So here I am, trying to work it off by getting reincarnated in the crummiest century of all time.  

Who the fuck am I supposed to be?  I don’t know.  Friday I spent all afternoon reposting horrifying stuff about Donald Trump, and a little about Mike Pence.  Trump is just a moron but everyone seems to hate Pence because he’s an anti-gay conservative, so I got a negative opinion of him.  Later, when, I went my usual Friday-night rounds, I heard a couple of guys talking about how they hated all the candidates and the only one they could even remotely accept was Mike Pence because he had turned Indiana’s economy around in only a few years.  That was an interesting experience in having my horizons broadened, to see how the social media deluge I’d immersed myself in could fail to mention that little fact.  

So I came away from that conversation wondering, “How do I fit in in America?”  Maybe I don’t, though.  Maybe I’m just insane.  I don’t care anymore.  

The only thing is, I want to be a good person. Social media seems to offer an infinite number of opportunities for self-creation and … I want to take advantage of them.  But I HAAAAAAAAAAAATE VAGUENESS!  I hate ugly little American cocreative monkeys of nothingness.  A contradiction I will have to resolve.  

At least I’m not Donald Trump, out there fucking up the world.  What kind of fucking soul would want to cocreate that moron, anyway?  A question Louise Hay never seems to get around to answering.

Well, I put in my time again.  Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to sum it up somehow.