Give me novocaine

incomplete and obsolete. the agony and ecstasy of living my life with my head screwed on backwards; with the veins in my brain wired wrong; with the blood and the bleed and the bled; with all the things i’ve never said. it’s all left and right and wrong. there is pleasure in this pain. you don’t have a head until you’ve been hung. you don’t have anything until you’ve lost it all. give it all away. the things that matter, don’t. run, run, run as fast as you can. poke your eye until you cry. you could have it all. this empire of lust and life and greed and gluttony. love yourself because in the end it’s just you and whoever is in your head.

 

I never really know what’s on my mind. I find it difficult to separate thoughts, ideas and images from darkness and solitude. My mind is another being, and my body is purely under its control. Right now, i’m trying so hard to squeeze any sense and any rationality into this answer that I feel as though I have ventured far away from where i’m supposed to be. I don’t know where i’m supposed to be.

emcee

 

1. Freud’s Structure of Personality (id, ego, superego) and Psychosexual Stages (oral, anal, phallic, latency, genital) are seemingly no longer relevant in psychology.
2. (THIS MAKES ME SAD)

mansfield

 I have spent most of my life abandoning myself. some days I feel that I am watching myself live. it’s as if I spend 365 days watching myself run in circles. and I find myself running away from my own life. only to run back into it.

you are here

Your consciousness could be streaming into your brain from light years away, from another dimension. Your consciousness might as well be another dimension. If you really try and feel, feel everything at once, you can feel gravity pulling on you, seemingly more so on your skin than your bones. Your bones are as dry as a statue made of stone in the middle of the desert. Your consciousness could be flowing into you from another world. your consciousness is not your consciousness. Or, your consciousness has never ever come in contact with your brain… your brain is just a satellite, a receiver. Maybe it’s just the pineal gland. Perhaps DMT is much more than what it seems to be. Perhaps DMT is a substance that really does allow you to see your consciousness

Man simply is.

dont be boring. People sometimes ask me, ‘If things are so bad, why don’t you just kill yourself?’ The answer is that life is really, really good. I am a complex enough being that I can hold in my heart the understanding that we are really, really fucked, and at the same time that life is really, really good. I am full of rage, sorrow, joy, love, hate, despair, happiness, satisfaction, dissatisfaction, and a thousand other feelings. We are really fucked. Life is still really good.
 
Either Twain or Einstein said that education interferes with learning (who knows, internet?) and i am not liking these educators at the moment. in fact, i dont want to do this anymore. Literally, psychologist means ‘one who studies the soul’, we think of it as a scary word in our harsh-sounding, Germanic language, but it actually means something really beautiful. I also like that it is ambiguous as to whether it’s me studying my own soul, or yours, or you studying my soul, or me asking you to study your own. It’s like a big impossible object that goes around and around. shame, really, La Trobe.


I’m a beautiful feminine Pegasus, and my IQ’s zero. When you’re as lovely as I am, you have no need for an IQ.

—Jane Dunlap (after 110 micrograms of LSD-25)

 

 

 

Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot.

 

 

 ////////

 

 

Marina Abramovic and her lover/collaborator Ulay performing “Death Self”. This performance consisted of the two artists seated in front of each other, connected at the mouth. They took in each other’s breaths until all of their available oxygen had been used up. The performance lasted only 17 minutes, resulting in both artists collapsing unconscious to the floor, having filled their lungs with carbon dioxide. This personal piece explored the idea of an individual’s ability to absorb the life of another person, exchanging and destroying it.

 

 

 

it just occurred to me that when you reminisce on your memories they don’t seem real and then you question if they were and maybe they weren’t and in that case the past never happened and so then maybe the present isn’t happening either - fuckyeah mind blown