— this is really happening

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August, 2007 Monthly archive

Has anyone in the world except for Tripp B. read Flatland, A Romance of Many Dimensions?  Weird strange uncomfortable book that makes me want to instigate misconduct and run out of the room yelling.  But, it has some goodies…err, it has some things that stuck. 

Said Doctrine ordains first and foremost that you must always "Attend to your configuration."  The Circles also puport that humans waste massive amounts of energy believing that conduct depends on will, effort, training, and encouragement.  So basically to the Circles, the only thing that matters is Configuration.  Configuration makes the man!  There’s a whole schleppy story about what Configuration actually is, but it’s not that exciting and I might lose some of you if I go into it.  Honestly, it’s been years since I read the book — thought it was bologne then, and I still do.  However, I remembered the Doctrine today and as night fell I ended up questioning the integrity of the square and rearranging the furniture in the room just outside my bedroom.  Here at 1210 P. Street, we call that room "the common room" — although I prefer "the treehouse" — but it never took.

The common room is essentially the "master" part of the master bedroom that I live in.  My attention to the Configuration in this case meant that I moved the couch to under the window, the futon bed to the east wall, and the kitten hospital cage a few inches to the west.  Doctrines aside, I finished a few moments ago and sat back down at the desk in my bedroom to fiddle with school work.   An unexpected consequence has emerged, however.  Upon returning to my bedroom a few steps from the common room, I feel as though I am still in the common room.  Spacially my mind seems stuck in that room.  So here I sit, type typin, and I "feel" like I’m over there.  A relapse to the bouncing raves of Denver perhaps?  And my peripheral vision is shocked by the bed beside the desk I’m sitting at.  What’s going on?

All of this reminds me of Aleister Crowley‘s "Love is the Law. Love under Will."…..

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pretty colors, i think
This is short and comes between laundry and lunch.  There was a big laundry invasion here and I have finally deterred the militia.  This is the final folded pile.  Carry on with your most likely more interesting moment…..

 

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this autopilot is amazing.  without knowing, two nights ago i was standing on the square that reads "tragedy and unexpected."  the white rook came fast from the other side and levelled me.  i was kicked off the board before i knew what happened.  my middle finger shot up in the air in solidarity and dispute!, and then a series of stumbled sighs filled my room.  i was just trying to play the game here, but that rook to queen 4 just reelee sucked, man.  wtf?  this event has thereby affirmined the koan of Courage, "It is arduous. Much courage will be needed."

it’s not every day your kitty jumps off the balcony and breaks his leg, merely one day following your close work colleauge being coined the boise ipod stalker.  last night i sat, spilled on the upstairs carpet, knees in my hands, head buckled touching belt buckle.  less emotional, mostly shocked.  i seemed to be making my way through the day, the drugs of autopilot autoing me on like a lemming.

last night i looked at my healthy kitty beside me.  her soft fur warmed my toes.  my mind-record kept repeating, "we’re in it together."   her gold coin eyes twinkled in agreement.  with her tucked under my arm, we fell asleep together on a laundry clean blanket and waited for dawn to arrive.

…today is here and i want to be still sitting still, but i’m back at the computer and running around.  slowly, life’s glee is starting to return in e’s "fits and starts."  the ups man who dances to and from his truck came today and dropped off a tube mail for my roommate.  he is a saint, this man.

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I ate at Taco Bell tonight.  Studying, woozy, woah.

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