[I am delirium. There is so much coming through lately. I am all claws; crawling, clutching at strings. Surrounded, covered in fragments. Shards of broken word. Many pieces have been delivered, but all too disjointed to share, to offer up to the conscious level of our beloved, beloathed collective. Yesterday (or was it two days ago?) ~fifty dictations arrived at once. An absolute cacophonous carcrash of sound and image. The layers of my head peeling off and out and in, like a blossom, or a medieval torture. It feels like chaos, like cruelty. I took it as a cue to move, work, stretch my body as much and as long as I could. Some contents can not be contained, and must be moved through. I have been thinkingreading much about e lately—the transcendental e. One of the Core Five (0, 1, π, i, e), all of which are contained in the utterly pristine Euler’s Identity: e^(iπ) + 1 = 0. I don’t have an easy explanation of this identity, neither for you nor for me. It is one of those things we just look at and hold delicately in awewonder, in the space between our teeth. e is also this for me. Very widespread and essential, and yet.. strange, weird. Intimately intertied with compounding interest (another very surreal law in the world). Natural logarithms; what grows naturally, tends to grow exponentially. Much more rapidly at the end than it seems it should. How can a constant rate result in exponential growth? I’m thinking of this in the context of inner noise. The noise grows gradually at first, then becomes all-of-a-sudden deafening. Until it breaks existence. Until it transcends what we thought we knew, what we thought the bounds were — and enters into, what is. ] Received 7/30/24 | 5:15pm
Listen to the Recitation:
DISCIPLINED DIN
Every din is deliberate; de~liberating
At every level of reality: internal, external,
Relational, intra-relational.. nothing is not
Orchestrated. We are all disciples of the One
Who which that inculcates us in our hour
Of delirium; the noise is never not disciplined—
The Noise!
Endless clamoring of a hundred million different
Voices, singing screaming shrill harmonious
Magical choir of incongruous inconsolable
Cowardice and courage, intermingled chaos
Which is not chaotic, nor even chaos truly.
I sit and rock back and forth as the intrinsic
Confines of my insides prey on my solace
And launch back and forth every possible word
For what I'm feeling, for what we're feeling, for
What any of it is about. We pray for meaninglessness
As a meaningful structure would be too much,
Too painful to bare before the sensitive soul
Which yearns not only for peace, but for conquest
Over and beyond what seems reasonable, into
What yearns, into the yearning itself. The desire
To fulfill the most outrageous request, which we
Ourselves made, to enact, to inact a quibble
Between friends, between brothers, sisters quarreling
This cannot go on, and yet it must go on, and on
Until the fullest most of it has thus gone through
And the soul may cease in its singing, and
The multitudes of sound may dim, the din
Deceased, the hallowed vaults of the worlds
Emptied of sound, into the full emptiness of none.
In this stalwart space, the light(e)ning shall flash
Periwinkle pearl, luminous scent, followed
By no thunder, no expectant sonorous clap,
But a clap nonetheless shall be heard
By the filledup earbellies of the masses
Who have heard their fill—beyond their fill,
And go now to their depths, to their desolation
To find their peaceful peril: what awaits them
In the growling glowing face
Which looks back upon them from within them.
Breathe receive and keep going;
All noise is disciplined deliberate and meaningful
At every level of self psyche mind world game body—
And none of it is not for you to hear.