I believe in something i call Mental Myopia, as you know i talked about pretty long ago; The Mental Nearsightedness..
Who of you fucking SubGs agree with me – that in that lies all mental pass-ways towards getting slack?
Let’s say i’m in a camp out in nature, hiking – then the small area of the camp becomes the isolated mental focus completely..
Inside that little place is the whole world for the moment/now – all i need to know, geographically, is only that area, AND what that small area presents for my senses for the moment..
It’s basically what makes fropping good.. To make a den out of a small area in the open-terrain – to nestle-in, to gain the complete myopia, and lose the wide world and all that presents for the senses..
“Pulling the wool over your own eyes”
Yes.. A pretty comfortable wool to carry – seeing no further than the obvious small area, is relaxation – and relaxation is key..
I yearn for entering a void of slack – i can picture it in my head, like a place where the world has vanished from the senses and my entire mind is swallowed up by a good book, or something, or something, a story, on the radio, or a movie playing on my smartphone..
A VOID, YES — a void where i live in the mental myopia, and all the troubles–the world, is gone – and it’s just like a trance of the myopia in my mossy brain, like in a small submarine..
I got a lot of people around me – i’m inside an insane asylum–i’m in the center of society/the social-arena–of the horde, dwelling in theirs depot…i’m in the building in the town.. Far from the desolate land.. The land where there is NO human constructions, or humans at all, besides me.. But where she is, the grand mother of all and everything..
BUT, in my sense, in my imagination, i’m in the lone zone side of earth…a farside we all can find if we want. A void of the spirit, like the moon shining down a spotlight, and in that small spotlight; a camp, a teepee.. Surviving on prey, fish plants – all mysterious, not to take for granted but to give praise for receiving, to the great spirit…and dance, like the shaman, until a vision of more slack occures – more slack than one can take a bite of..
And what is that zone..?.. IT’S A DREAM (i used to call it cartoon-world for some reason, mainly because it’s more wiggly, more crooked, more boss and softer, but whatever)
I’m in a teepee, in a mystical world i’m not familiar with, yet i was born into 37 con-cycles ago.. I never took it as just plain and obvious, that’s how i was different as a child–to me the world felt special and mysterious – had another meaning than a place to put a supermarket.. I’m in a teepee in a zone of vegetation, sacred plant-life, on top of some ground that is a crust of something i don’t know.. I’m in in a sacred place in a cozy mental nearsightedness.. Religion is gone, the con/society is gone, it’s just me in my little island/area among the myriad of mysterious insects…what are they, what made them–like bacteria; what is that..? It’s all so strange…but inside my teepee is the temple..
smack down in mother earth, alone, in a shaman-hangout, and stuff feel like a Sven Nordquist illustration–like a story book — in my imagination.. I hunt and spend time by the fire, in this unnamed world of mystic energies–flowing through the wind, the water, the grass and the rocks.. Flows like fire creeping through everything, pulsating mushroom mycelium, singing to me; lullabies of the ancient, in an unfamiliar language.
I belong to Wakan Tanka.. The mental myopia is strong, and was delivered into my mind like a box of chocolates – a divine gift, perhaps wakan tanka saw me there walking, way behind the flock of children, as i walk slowly in all the grace of an untold world..
The mental myopia comes on strong this night, in the mystic land called “Sweden”..
I feel my notion of “Bob”s blessings, upon me personally, is like going back to the plain old earth, in the warm sun, just free with the earth, and just relaxed and free in the safety of my own delusion
Like being the ONLY one in miles around, in the DEEP OLD WOODS, like living in a trailer in the woods, with electricity, some useful stuff and a screen (displaying dobbs-town right now), like taking the good parts of the primitive, the freedom of such old age, yet modern – all in his slack-mojo