i want to quickly cover up that last post because it’s sentimental and embarrassing . . . furthermore, you can’t go home again, as i proved in the late eighties when i went back to west lafayette and was a drug-addled moron and an embarrassment to my hosts . . . that was one of the low points of my life, knowing that i didn’t belong anywhere in the world.  and i was thoroughly miserable because i was being continually bombarded by psychic impressions even though i didn’t believe in psychic phenomena . . . 

well that’s okay, everything goes on, this is twenty years later, i’ve been doing shamanism since 1996, everyone’s getting used to this stuff . . . on into the future.

I spent the day with Neale Donald Walsch a couple of weeks ago.  He’s a pretty amazing guy, an incredibly powerful speaker who can change your life.  Chicago is actually becoming a nexus for these superfamous spiritual authors like Walsch and Deepak Chopra — Oprah is sponsoring a show, “Celebration of Life” where they come from all around for a weekend . . . I came to the right place.

I’m so glad I left Grand Rapids.  What a dorky little town.  I can’t believe I ever felt excited about that place.  There is so much going on here . . . free at last, free at last, thank god almighty I am free at last.

But of course the problem with blogging these days is that the earth is spinning to its conclusion.  The psychic realities of all this are so complex and rapidly changing that writing about them gets to be an exercise in the obsolete.  

Avedon was the world’s greatest writer, even though he had never published anything.  In former lives he had been Homer and Virgil and also Victor Hugo and Jack Kerouac.  Unfortunately the 21st century was completely meaningless and so he had nothing in particular to write about.  Everyone was utterly stupid and uninteresting and life was a really bad joke that had been told over and over for at least 100 years.  People weren’t much more than ugly monkeys so he decided to kill himself.  

He jumped off a cliff and died and no one ever heard of him in that lifetime and no one cared anyway because they were all poor and frustrated and empty and everyone was glad when the United States and China went to war and annihalated everyone.  Ultimately everyone agreed that mass death was better than another century of excruciating boredom surrounded by idiots.

I know it’s a brief, sad story but it’s utterly fucking true!  Aaaaah!  My head hurts!  

I could be an artist again . . . now that I truly believe in an afterlife with real people in it, who have personalities and love (as opposed to some hideous buddhist/qabalistic abstraction of karmic forces and species evolution) I could actually make some art that I’d like for myself, engage with that whole sense of wonder and mystery that I gave up years ago when I concluded that humanity were a bunch of vile monkeys who had no reason to exist.  

I really did you know, I gave up on human beings and love and everything . . . and this planet still sucks ass and I don’t care about anything that happens here, but spirits in the afterlife are real so personality is real even if the humans on Earth have totally failed to do anything worthwhile . . .  

I want a great big explosive reality like I’m living in “Apocalypse Now” or something . . . just lit like that, very lush colors and weird stuff going on all the time . . . mysterious and dark . . . except at the same time I’m hypnotizing myself to avoid all conflict and struggle . . . so mysterious and dark but not dangerous . . . not that I’m afraid of danger, but there’s really no excuse for it if you create your own reality — it’s just self-indulgence.  

Really I’d like to live in a big videogame.  No, but then what would Neale Donald Walsch think of me?  He’s out there trying to end world hunger and stuff.  

Actually the only reason I feel guilty about that (and I know God told Walsch that guilt is unnecessary) is that I really used to want to save the world.  That is after all why I worked so hard on the Church of Art.  but now i know there are Great Beings around me and my big concern is really figuring out how to perceive them more clearly so I can figure out what to do to get out of here and go home to the astral plane — which is just like a big video game.

On the other hand I am getting more self confidence lately, getting back to my wanna-be 60s roots . . . 

Just finished a meditation session and I feel wonderful, though still brooding over thoughts of the unpleasant relatives I came into this world with.  Light and freedom — with Sahaj Marg the light literally comes though it isn’t any kind of physical light, but a gentle whiteness that wraps my inner world in snow.  Cheerful snow on a bright sunny day.  Or maybe the snow is just me, and I’m cold.  Certainly I have to somehow find a way to stop letting humanity bring me down.  

I’m going to see Neale Donald Walsch on Sunday.