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.  

Been using hypnosis to increase my dream recall and incidence of lucid dreams.  Just had another lucid dream this morning, where I was sliding down an underground river (cataract, really) toward a lake and I knew that it was a dream and I had to just relax and “become the water” in order not to drown.

 So I just had an idea for a sequel to the Matrix trilogy.  Everyone cool now knows that reality is breaking up, the spirit world is getting closer, everything is synchronous.  my movie is set in a high school where a guy who watches “the matrix” all the time suddenly starts having lucid dreams, realizing that the Matrix really is a metaphor for some real kind of paradigm shift — and starts haunting this really cute girl’s dreams.  he picks a few other people he’d want to be friends with and forms a dreamgang — but then the other dreamers recognize him in the waking world so he has to explain to them how he developed this ability, then they all develop it —

BUT THEN of course they realize there’s a biggger war of control going on and dark forces chase them around the dream world etc. 

the key is that it could be a true story!  lucid dreaming really is “hacking the matrix”, stories of the supernatural are totally more realistic than news accounts of daily life . . . etc.  so the whole point of the movie is that world culture has hit the crisis point where everyone knows “reality” is a lie —

and furthermore all the psychic combat and the nasty creatures and stuff can be depicted with total realism, no exaggeration, based on stuff that’s really going on right this minute!

Been sick for a couple of days, kind of a climax to two weeks of running around Chicago getting acclimated to a city I’m not embarrassed to live in — a big change from Grand Rapids.  There’s nothing good about Grand Rapids, you know.  I suppose some day I may fall back into that “but it’s nicer in the country” mindset, but the people aren’t nicer or more honest — in fact there’s a higher percentage of disastrous failures.  Bitterness and lying abound.  It’s worse than Hollywood because no one’s even glamorous or wealthy.

 Sigh, I just had to give a shout-out to the cosmos — I blew off most of the people who ever read my blogs back in Michigan, so I am now truly calling out to the thin air — but that’s okay because I can see the spirit world pretty clearly now.  Speaking of which, I have to go off to the fourth dimension now so whatever beings are reading this, thank you for your attention and I’ll be seeing you.

 I am the total cosmos!

So I’m moving to Chicago soon, to be a little fish in a big pond.  That’s quite all right — I’m sick of Grand Rapids, sick of prowling around the same four neighborhoods, sick of hanging around shopping malls just to get the feeling of being in a large crowd, sick of forgiving everyone and everything around me for being second rate just because it’s only Grand Rapids . . . so I’ll finally be where cool things are actually cool and I’ll have to compete with people who actually are at the top of their field, which is good for me.

 I’ll also have to clean up my act on the web; about ten times as many people will read my writing, and about one tenth as many will care what it says.  I have an opportunity to “remake” myself in a way — I’m not denying who I was but I get to choose who I want to be in this new setting.  I’m arguing with spirits about that these last couple of days . . . I guess I’m a writer.  Really I’m an intuitive, and I hope to pick up some extra cash doing readings for people, but as an intuitive I have to express myself artistically for some reason . . .