From: agno429@acs.bu.edu
Message-Id: <199607290341.XAA152078@acs.bu.edu>
Subject: Re: Pain, petrified fear and volcanoes
To: twc-l@halmarax.demon.co.uk
Date: Sun, 28 Jul 1996 23:41:47 -0400 (EDT)
In-Reply-To: <19960726.162859.38@halmarax.demon.co.uk> from "Tony Halmarack" at Jul 26, 96 04:28:59 pm
>
> In message <19960714.184913.29@halmarax.demon.co.uk> anthony
> awful wrote:
>
> >
> Hello anthony,
salut tony !
> Sorry for the delay but I moved recently - something I do several
> times a year on a fairly regular basis - and got a chest
> infection on arrival. So, I've been concentrating more on
> breathing than writing lately.
i hope you're feeling better at this email's arrival.
or at this email's departure. both <smile>.
> > there are those in desperation. hopeless.
>
> Maybe if all else failed, hallucinogens might catapult them out
> of that unpleasant state of consciousness, especially if there
> were people with the appropriate skills, prepared to assist.
someone to change the channel on life's television set <faint grin>.
> > the hope you have, envelopes your entire being.
>
> Yes but this envelope's been through the system a few times
> and there are a bit of wear beginning to show.
third class stamp postage i presume ? <odd smirk>
> > you would enter the void as a doorway -- walking beyond.
>
> I hope you're right about that. The last time I encountered
> said manifestation, the pace was somewhat quicker than a walk
> and in the other direction.
i hope you dropped some pebbles <smile>
[...]
> Just so that I can carry on with life despite these unresolved
> fears, I seem to have developed a process where the fears become
> encysted, sealed of from the functioning part of me. Like small
> hard stones carried around in my baggage. As I go through life the
> load of stones gets bigger dragging me down. I can no longer
> address these fears consciously because they are so thoroughly
> encapsulated. Neither can I put them down and walk away from
> them.
>
> Then, along comes a fairly mild psychoactive drug like cannabis,
> and the stones begin to crack. Out seeps the old fears, just when
> I'm at my most sensitive and vulnerable. Now the fears are so
> vivid and intense that the only thing I can do is deal with them
> and ultimately accept them.
> Ok, it can be very demanding and soon brings fatigue but at the
> end of a session, I will be a few stones lighter.
>
> LSD doesn't crack the stones and let the fear seep out it simply
> melts the whole bag in a volcanic eruption of consciousness. As
> it cools, a new terrain can be formed, travelled by a new being.
sounds like heaven to me ... <smile and faint giggle>
my mind is still a mess. i suppose my heaven would be when i
clean up that mess <faint grin>. too bad it's an imagined mess...
i have to imagine myself cleaning up... hmm... an odd world.
the world of imagination.
> What if there are other people like me, weighed down and hobbled by
> their fears? They may come to death's door too heavily burdened
> to make the transition. They may hang about on the threshold for
> months or years incapable of taking that final step, rooted in
> abject misery.
> I've seen it. I don't want it to happen to me. I wouldn't wish it
> on any friend of mine.
each path is different.. yet somehow, most of us are walking
forward with Father Time... we bump into one another every
once and awhile and... all we can do is maybe help with another
person's burden ... i dunno. a thought. don't mind me.
i'm now wondering who are the litter bugs on the path of
time's movement forward. i wonder who looks back and finds nothing.
i wonder who turns back and adds pebbles onto the path...
that fear, changed into what we may call
the human's path... of fear and pain ... pebbles and rocks.
so there are those behind us, who walk in step with the
rhythm. the younger of us, walk... hmm... or do they run in
place. going no where fast ? so lots of us walk in step with
the good pulse of life. a tap ... "a rain drop" -- 'the kitchen
sink dripping'
'i think that maybe we're all just dropping pebbles
for the youngers path.'
'we've tread the hours and watch the seasons...'
'lost in space, forgetting the holy, perhaps...'
salut tony.
God bless,
anthony awful