08 March 2011

Notes - Out with the bath water / Amorella's Consistency / free minded

        While soaking in the bath this morning I questioned Amorella’s sense of reality. I ask for no proof of her existence other than the books and the blog, yet both are legally mine. Then I thought about her “no sense of power” which was something felt by myself in the ‘transcendental dance’. With this I was reminded that in being human ‘feelings’ are facts of a sort. True, feelings are subjective but human beings react to them and by doing so make them facts observable to others. The Merlyn series is my example of this.

         Perhaps it was from watching “The Event” last night and tonight “V” will catch my mindanheart but not in the same way. What would I demand of Amorella as proof? Something miracle-like? Anything I would ask her to do could be constructed as “a use of power”. To promote peace I could say, “Amorella, do away with the terrorists and you will prove to me you are real.” But Amorella holds no sense of power that I could see. And, if she did such a thing it would dawn on me that I hold the power. Surely it would as I am a human being just like everyone else. No good would come from that I assure you. None.

         Then I thought of history, where would something like this be seen, where no power was used? I feel Jesus was a real man, I doubt he is G---D in my sense of the word. Christians think of Jesus dying on the cross and wonder, what was the purpose? Then the creative species we are, we create a purpose. No different I think than with the saints or any other religion. What was the purpose of Moses or Mohammed or Buddha? I do not know what the purposes are of any man or woman including myself. But I caught a glimpse of something I had not noted before. Jesus being allowed to bear the cross shows (in context here) an inference of a Higher Being (if one exists) without a sense of power. Amorella, can I say such a thing in here?

         You can say what is on your mind, boy. What is bothering you is that your thoughts also come from your heartansoul. And, that’s the rub, my man. Once a question is thought it cannot be unthought. – Amorella.

         I should not have thought such a thing for my own good. I feel I may be inwardly plagued by this for a long time.

         You were free enough to think it. You are free enough to erase it and it will remain a private thought. – Amorella.

         Where is my authenticity in that when I challenged myself to have my thoughts read?
        
         You pay the Piper either way, boy. Everyone pays. That’s a rule, in here at least. – Amorella.

         Maybe I do give a damn after all. For others this may all be fanciful silliness, and perhaps it is, I don’t know.

         You have taken some time to think this out. Your latest idea is to modify and/or delete part of your thoughts but I do not think that wise as it would look as if you are wanting to add mystery and drama where none exists. – Amorella.

         You are right, Amorella. This blog is about thoughts and I had a new one (for me) today. That’s all there is to it. No sound and fury. I can live with it.

         Then, post. – Amorella.


         Mid-afternoon, you and Carol just finished a good lunch at Olive Garden – salad, two lunch lasagnas, and you split a tiramisu, one of Carol’s favorite desserts. Now you are sitting outside of Macy’s south lot in Kenwood waiting for her to return some clothing.

         It just dawned on me that I was going to work on chapter seven first, but I wasn’t thinking about it.

         Thinking didn’t have anything to do with it, orndorff. You forgot. You forget lots of things. Carol was commenting about that on the drive down. She wanted to go to Olive Garden because she had just cut out a coupon, but you told there were no coupons, whereupon she reminded you that she mentioned it yesterday, which you did not remember until she also said she found a coupon for the Roadhouse. You remembered the Roadhouse but not Olive Garden. These little stories of forgetfulness happen three or four times a week. Nothing has changed. You were forgetting things before you were five.

         I’m tired of hearing stories about me.

         That’s a first. . . . and, with that you worked on the next paragraph of the Tree’s story only to find it somewhat surreal and not completely understood. Place it here:

“Roots are deeper than the thought they can produce. Extensions, clusters of a lesser light unseen by conscious bodies without skin or bone. Light unfelt by organically spread dimensions unknown even to Betweeners. Egg whites of light, thinly pancaked by the frost from which the concept of cold is born. Roots eggshell light and on edge thin, stepping stones upon stepping-stones, thin sharp blades of pre-yoked Forms far from the Tree filled with thin-leafed universes, nutshells, if you will where consciousness can shout and hear their echoes in a seemingly individual skull-shell half the size from which nothing springs. A breastfast juggled to a womblike performance – a cornerstone of the First Form. A cornerstone with no height or width or depth, and no hope or faith either.” Ch7,sc5, par2 of Bk. 4
**

         I was running through some of the pages of the blog for this last six months and noticed that as I stopped to read whatever page I stopped on, as I read, it seemed like I just wrote it for the first time. This is a new observation because it was only last week when I completed putting the first year of the blog in one document and what I have of the second year of the blog in one document. It is as though no sense of time takes place as I read a page of the blog no matter when it was written. This is a subjective reaction, but a new one, and I am not sure why it occurs. I will have to continue to do this from time to time to see if this ‘feeling’ is just a one-time-today-only observation.

         But, from now on how we you know you aren’t unconsciously or even subconsciously deliberately siding one way or the other?

         I don’t know.

         Leave it as a one-time observation and let it go. And, while you are at it, post. – Amorella

         You’re taking away some fun self-experimentation, Amorella.

         This blog has not been worked to ‘set something up’ boy. The whole idea is that this work comes directly from your mind without a pre-thought. And, it is going to stay that way because, as you know, I can make the judgment as to whether the idea is pre-thought or not, and if it is, like you want it to be, for fun, then it is not going to be written down. In order for your mind to be free you cannot conjure it one way or the other. I have to remain consistent, boy, both in the blog and in the Merlyn series. Later, dude. – Amorella.



         Not quite twenty-one hundred hours yet, and you discovered the human weakness mentioned in the previous paragraph. Somewhere in your head it dawned on you that you could ‘set up’ a situation on the blog. Never before do you remember such a scheme and although you would never do it, you are surprised you thought of it anyway.

         You are right, Richard, I would never allow it, but more to the point, you would not either. Thinking something is not a crime or even a sin in my books, old man. There is enough guilt in the world without throwing more on the fire. You see, now you remember. Once when you felt cleansed you smelt burning flesh, just a whiff, and realized it was psychological or you were under self-hypnosis deeper than you thought.

         I had forgotten. Yes. There must be a term for that. I did feel cleansed or 
purged. I don’t remember the reason. I thought I must be crazy. I felt lighter, I felt free, then I smelt a tiny whiff of burnt flesh. I even looked closer to the fingers of my right hand to make sure were on fire. That was crazy. Then I did the only thing I knew to do, I let it go. I let my whole mind go. All those thoughts, good, bad, indifferent. There was nothing else I could do. Then I felt freed, my mind flew like a bird. Another episode from back in the late eighties. Before or after “the Dance” – I do not remember. I do not remember a lot of things. 



         Enough for tonight.  Post. – Amorella. 

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