Category Archives: Writing

In search of an art form . . .

by

0

I’m still in search of a mode of writing that does not turn to ash the moment it hits the page.  What narrative point of view, what purpose can be relevant in the light of all this light, all this multidimensional energy around me?  I don’t read novels anymore.  Novels are generally stories of linear time and linear time is an illusion.  Stories are generally uninteresting to me except as evidence of the psychic development of the author.  “Wanted” for instance, a recent film that had almost no redeeming value except as evidence that someone in Hollywood is still working with the Burroughsian “assassin” imagery — though they may not even know it, as it’s been filtered through years of comic books and action movies.

The books I like are stories of NDEs and psychics.  So I’ll have to write my own.  But what would it be about?  Could it ever be complete?

Sound and fury

by

0

so i’m writing a blog post which i know for a fact will wind up one of the 3 billion meaningless and instantly forgotten blog posts that are created daily in america, just as i am leading a life as one of 6 or 7 billion meaningless and instantly forgotten people who carpet the earth like lice . . . well, no, i’m exagerrating my nihilism a little, but it’s true that whereas once blogging was exciting because of the attention i got now it’s just a little tedious because nothing significant happens.  it may even be slightly hypocritical because i’m totally uninterested in anyone else’s blogs.  but i’m writing as practice for the fiction i’m working on.  you have to keep going even when it all seems pointless.  i’ve seen the power of working a little at a time over years — that’s how i developed my ability to dream lucidly and read people psychically.  someday i’ll be able to write fiction that pleases me.  i may never get published, and who cares anyway?  

it’s so sad to have artistic talent in the 21st century.  when i was a kid artists were like heroes, now they’re just characters in a trashy, sordid soap opera of media buffoonery . . . thankfully i believe in higher worlds and life after death.  i know i’m developing qualities that will improve my enjoyment of the afterlife . . . i don’t have to give a fuck what anyone in this world thinks about me.