IRC-Galleria

All those dead doctors answering me in chorus,
wolff, leary, even the subordinate twist of lilly's,
talking dolphins, omnipotent plants, nirvana.

Equilibrium of all, chaos without an end.
They say time is speeding up. How can one measure such?
Everything everywhere is a system, to keep everything in balance.
After man has accumulated everything there is, and made it to things he hardly needs,
we soon need to begin doing such things from those things we really need.

but this is also an mere abstraction.

Total control over everything that can be transformed into something
we look as valuable, and sold forth. Eventually we need to pick up the
scraps and find a way how to make trees from them.

and another, almost pointless abstraction.

All that is happening is overwhelming me. I think I could just scream
against all their faces like a madman, but I think they would believe that I'm gone mad.
I can picture it.
Disbelief other than mine ripping my mind to pieces. All that I once thought as negative human emotions, screaming over snow, pushing my mind to ground. Destroying compassion.

I wish not ill. I wont do much good from inside of an institution. And Jesus is not going to save me this time.

But in the end this all doesn't add up, now does it?
Religion is needed when you realize that you wont survive after all.
Panic ensued after realizing that not-being is closer for many more than most think.
Religion is in the picture, because conciousness-object is afraid of not being an conciousness or object.
But Nirvana is conciousness-without-an-object. Conciousness-without-an-object is.

At this point I must agree with you, dear dead doctors.
Hindus were right, so were the shamans we don't hear anymore.
My search has found a level of information in human-created-universe, from which I can continue after gaining my strength back.

My mind is tired,
still I long for physical experiments,
with conciousness.

Experience is tension between who sees and what is seen.
Those who I think I am are only byproducts made for this world.

Sounds crazy? It all is subjective.