A bit off, so watching anime all day
4/21/2025 "avoid fat and hard to digest foods"
**Another word for addiction is love** Con/Jur/d, 4/21/2025, Day 21 This, is obviously something from a bigger poem, one where our past words, letters do not adhere, do not repeat. We'll borrow a story from a friend, hitchhiking, big RV and a blind curve, an unlucky breakdown and while the stranger was dying, he kept (repeating repeating repeating) I've been here before, and, yes, these days, even a title that sparks and shines feels familiar, like we've written it before Our health has been questionable, losing sleep because we refuse to give up, are giving up our habits, and sure there’s bad habits \-- we call them addictions so we can pass moral judgments, dismiss this lived experience, this neurodivergent outlier, whose back and forth suchness needs to be contained, put in an easily fileable box, one to be put on a neurotypical shelf and forgotten. Forgotten how we never know love, how lust, and then effort carves love into something we can carry, hold and recognize Can't stop thinking about them? Good/Bad for you? Craving constantly? Others judge and you don’t give AF? Love or addiction? As we were giving up, the addiction of our first Marriage, the soon-to-be ex said, you’re not addicted to anything but chaos; maybe so remember playing hacky sack in a thin driveway between houses covered by pigeon guano, too close together, leaning toward each other blocking the sun, we were stoned, sped, sleep deprived, and it all whirled WHIRLED whirled Around and through us, stepped to the center FELT THE GREAT LOVE, pulsing and quiet the center of the cyclone, while everything continued to whip past, but here (always here) in your center, GREAT, GREAT LOVE, although it would take years, before we let it out, let it infuse the wind, NOT JUST THE SILENCE.
GOOD Con/Jur/d, 4/12/2025 “You need to feel good to do good” - Timothy Leary “Why do you need to always be the good guy?” she asked, and we repeat ourselves, our MOTHER would have been proud, she believed we were the prodigal son, we believe it’s a story which is a BAD substitute for community, “Without thinking GOOD or BAD, what was your MOM’s FACE before Y O U wereborn? the hitch in the corner, before the TEACHER rolls up reality, and despite its size throws it over THEIR shoulder and walks into the track - less MOUNTAINS, and you're alone in the vast - ness, alone, exchanging hand signals with BUDDHA, what the petty thieves call GOD WE LAUGH AND LAUGH (you got to, don’t you?) our stalker drunkenly texts, “ how do you do it? how do you make money? How have you done it for years, and years.” BLOCKED what destroyed our relationship with our first wife, what drove us to a glorious spiral of self- destruction, from which we AROSE is not for those without good heart, great joy great faith, greater doubt We’ve been told, the first GATE on the gate(less) path is taking full responsibility, for your ONE precious life, and without this sacrifice of self-hate taught and inherited ideas of what is GOOD YOU will never (ever) get here, to dance the GOOD/BAD DANCE, fully, deeply, truly MADLY we’re working on it Are You?
https://open.qobuz.com/album/es1b002cq5emb
(NOT INTEGRATED — WE’RE TRYING
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 4/21/2025
everywhere we go there we are Con/Jur/d, 4/15.5/2025 The frame of reference is always the body, an important NOTE for when one vagabonds without it, and SPRING’S BODY BINDING brings thoughts of you and one other mostly friendly MAGUS who also, when found LAYING QUIETLY without breath, looked surprised. Like you, he had gone traveling, like you the maps failed, as they do as they will, for all of us WE WERE born the same year, the same month, to radically differing parents, with different genetic karma different coastal winds, different oceans bordering our imaginal youthful boundaries and yet, the UNDERSTOOD between us, never sexual, was intimate, as if while wandering in the VOID upon returning, we could swap places exchange facts, exchange faces, proclivities kinks, and no one would be less wise your death has shown ABSENCE, often is a greater teacher than PRESENCE Was thinking this morning because of the dream, folded away and as if it never happened how, when we took trips even without the other knowing we APPEARED in the other’s dreams, passing on INFORMATION our waking walking, somatic senses Processed as an unreceived signal THIS SILENCE said everything and much more without constraint constraints you no longer suffer we imagine eating SAN PEDRO and saw these 17 syllables - Mescaline shows you next to body, you forgot how to get back in.