10 posts tagged “creative snapshots”

Yesterday I was thinking of the subject of happiness. I wonder if sensitivity and happiness are directly related. I think so.

I am able to create moments of "happiness" where I take pleasure in the most simplest of things and where I make connections between the dissimilar. I can be very creative in my perspectives to where I am able to create my own worlds and wholly exist in them. But I admit that sometimes I can allow those worlds to become nightmares of some sort where sinister faces and scenes appear around every corner and sweet, pure and playful things aren't exactly as wonderful as they seem. This happens if I let it because there are so many ways to perceive when you let in a variety of triggers ("changing agents" or perhaps "malevolent bottles of dyes") and when invisible shape-shifter entities are seen only when they take on a specific form or identity.

Sometimes you find that those shape-shifters are many sly copies of yourself.

I just had a random thought. Looked outside of my window just now and saw a tall cluster of trees that has been there for as long as I can remember. Their branches and leaves are swaying in the windy atmosphere. I thought to myself, "These are someone's veins." I also began to think that sometimes a hyper-manifestation of details is very sickening...

Where is the blood? Is the blood air? Is the blood represented by any place water exists?

I recently got this vision of being in an eerily silent hallway full of doors on each side. The doors are semi-transparent to where I can see the movement of shadows behind them but no clarity. The end of the hallway shows a panel of two doors, also partially transparent, no knobs, with the out pour of muted bright light. I turn away from the end of the hallway as there is no way to open up the panel. Each time I look for a door handle, a shadowed body showing from behind the panel copies my movement.

I look around at the hallway doors and go to open up one door. I see giant legs and feet shuffling back and forth as I peer in. When I look up, the legs continue upwards forever with no connected body in sight. But they continue to fidget and as they do I can hear dancing sounds that mimic the effects of empty plastic bottles continually falling down on a surface.

I close the door and look across the hallway to approach another door. I can see thick and clear liquid oozing out of the seams of the doorway. The smell is slightly noxious but induces a euphoric feeling each time I deeply inhale and the pleasure makes me quickly envision fading scenarios of bundled shapes and patterns. I open the door and a huge eye is revealed. The eyeball bulges out of the doorway further, quivering and unable to blink while releasing more of that slimy thick clear liquid from the edges.

I feel this urge to punch the eye in the middle of the pupil. Once I do this, the eye pops like a balloon that has just received a sharp pin prick, and releases the sound of a woman's coquettish laugh. The door closes and the knob disappears with the ting of a bell.

I decide to open another door but as I stand in front of it, something doesn't feel right. I feel as if this is the wrong door to open...ever. I open the door anyway and a gigantic head of a penis pops through the entryway. The meatus is very large and stretchy and as I stare into its tunnel, I find myself immediately sucked into its passage.  As my body is enveloped by the opening, I feel waves of insane pleasure.

The penis passage appears to be another hallway, a fleshy and spongy hallway. I go further into the passage and with each step I hear the combined sounds of pops and erotic male moans at many pitches. The pitches deepen as I move toward the end of the tunnel. There is a throbbing, bulbous and round wad of veiny flesh at the end. A voice emanates from it and asks me if I know madness. The voice is incredibly low-pitched and threatening in delivery. I answer to it that I know madness and I hear a loud gasp. Before I know it, a long arm fronted with a big tightened fist comes through the flesh knob and punches me in the face to where both of my eyes are damaged. I throw my hands to my face and over my eyes in horror and in pain...and I can feel wetness and pieces of delicate tissue seep through the cracks of my fingers. My legs and feet shift back and forth as I try to bear the pain.

The voice continues to speak to me but I have no idea what it is saying. The language is obscure and like nothing I've ever heard before. The voice gets louder and I can feel the interior walls of the penis tightening around my body. They are closing in. I can't move. My body is frozen in the position of tragic agony. The voice tells me to let go many times and "see". I ignore it knowing that I can't move or that I can no longer see due to the damage and mutilation to my eyes. But it continues to tell me to let go and see. I scream in frustration and horror and struggle to do something. Anything. The voice continues to pressure me into submission to its commands. The walls get so tight around my body that I feel I will explode open into a bloody and bony mess.

To my shock, another voice yells out my name and it sounds like my own voice as I strain to make sense of it at first. My voice is also telling me to let go and see. I scream out for help but I realize that this makes no sense. My voice from afar tells me that if I don't let go and see, that I will die and find myself fragmenting into a million pieces, scattered around many worlds never feeling complete or whole no matter how hard I search and look. Each found piece will immediately unlock a new lost piece somewhere else thus continuing the hellish nightmare.

I fight to open my eyes and let go of the tight sensation that continues to envelop around my body. I find that I can begin to see something although my hands are in the same position. I find that I begin to feel free although the walls of the penile passage still tighten around me.

As this new vision comes into focus, I notice that I am in a blue warehouse room. A naked baby is sitting upright in the middle of the room staring at me with very wide doll-like eyes. The color of its eyes cannot be made out as they appear to constantly change in hue far too fast for perception to take hold of.

The baby hiccups and falls over and reveals a propped mirror behind it. I lean down to see what is in the reflection of the mirror. The reflection is of a large nude infant leaning over to peer unto itself. The eyes are alert, expressive and full of bewildered curiosity...

Yesterday I was thinking of the subject of happiness. I wonder if sensitivity and happiness are directly related. I think so.

I am able to create moments of "happiness" where I take pleasure in the most simplest of things and where I make connections between the dissimilar. I can be very creative in my perspectives to where I am able to create my own worlds and wholly exist in them. But I admit that sometimes I can allow those worlds to become nightmares of some sort where sinister faces and scenes appear around every corner and sweet, pure and playful things aren't exactly as wonderful as they seem. This happens if I let it because there are so many ways to perceive when you let in a variety of triggers ("changing agents" or perhaps "malevolent bottles of dyes") and when invisible shape-shifter entities are seen only when they take on a specific form or identity.

Sometimes you find that those shape-shifters are many sly copies of yourself.

I just had a random thought. Looked outside of my window just now and saw a tall cluster of trees that has been there for as long as I can remember. Their branches and leaves are swaying in the windy atmosphere. I thought to myself, "These are someone's veins." I also began to think that sometimes a hyper-manifestation of details is very sickening...

Where is the blood? Is the blood air? Is the blood represented by any place water exists?

I recently got this vision of being in an eerily silent hallway full of doors on each side. The doors are semi-transparent to where I can see the movement of shadows behind them but no clarity. The end of the hallway shows a panel of two doors, also partially transparent, no knobs, with the out pour of muted bright light. I turn away from the end of the hallway as there is no way to open up the panel. Each time I look for a door handle, a shadowed body showing from behind the panel copies my movement.

I look around at the hallway doors and go to open up one door. I see giant legs and feet shuffling back and forth as I peer in. When I look up, the legs continue upwards forever with no connected body in sight. But they continue to fidget and as they do I can hear dancing sounds that mimic the effects of empty plastic bottles continually falling down on a surface.

I close the door and look across the hallway to approach another door. I can see thick and clear liquid oozing out of the seams of the doorway. The smell is slightly noxious but induces a euphoric feeling each time I deeply inhale and the pleasure makes me quickly envision fading scenarios of bundled shapes and patterns. I open the door and a huge eye is revealed. The eyeball bulges out of the doorway further, quivering and unable to blink while releasing more of that slimy thick clear liquid from the edges.

I feel this urge to punch the eye in the middle of the pupil. Once I do this, the eye pops like a balloon that has just received a sharp pin prick, and releases the sound of a woman's coquettish laugh. The door closes and the knob disappears with the ting of a bell.

I decide to open another door but as I stand in front of it, something doesn't feel right. I feel as if this is the wrong door to open...ever. I open the door anyway and a gigantic head of a penis pops through the entryway. The meatus is very large and stretchy and as I stare into its tunnel, I find myself immediately sucked into its passage.  As my body is enveloped by the opening, I feel waves of insane pleasure.

The penis passage appears to be another hallway, a fleshy and spongy hallway. I go further into the passage and with each step I hear the combined sounds of pops and erotic male moans at many pitches. The pitches deepen as I move toward the end of the tunnel. There is a throbbing, bulbous and round wad of veiny flesh at the end. A voice emanates from it and asks me if I know madness. The voice is incredibly low-pitched and threatening in delivery. I answer to it that I know madness and I hear a loud gasp. Before I know it, a long arm fronted with a big tightened fist comes through the flesh knob and punches me in the face to where both of my eyes are damaged. I throw my hands to my face and over my eyes in horror and in pain...and I can feel wetness and pieces of delicate tissue seep through the cracks of my fingers. My legs and feet shift back and forth as I try to bear the pain.

The voice continues to speak to me but I have no idea what it is saying. The language is obscure and like nothing I've ever heard before. The voice gets louder and I can feel the interior walls of the penis tightening around my body. They are closing in. I can't move. My body is frozen in the position of tragic agony. The voice tells me to let go many times and "see". I ignore it knowing that I can't move or that I can no longer see due to the damage and mutilation to my eyes. But it continues to tell me to let go and see. I scream in frustration and horror and struggle to do something. Anything. The voice continues to pressure me into submission to its commands. The walls get so tight around my body that I feel I will explode open into a bloody and bony mess.

To my shock, another voice yells out my name and it sounds like my own voice as I strain to make sense of it at first. My voice is also telling me to let go and see. I scream out for help but I realize that this makes no sense. My voice from afar tells me that if I don't let go and see, that I will die and find myself fragmenting into a million pieces, scattered around many worlds never feeling complete or whole no matter how hard I search and look. Each found piece will immediately unlock a new lost piece somewhere else thus continuing the hellish nightmare.

I fight to open my eyes and let go of the tight sensation that continues to envelop around my body. I find that I can begin to see something although my hands are in the same position. I find that I begin to feel free although the walls of the penile passage still tighten around me.

As this new vision comes into focus, I notice that I am in a blue warehouse room. A naked baby is sitting upright in the middle of the room staring at me with very wide doll-like eyes. The color of its eyes cannot be made out as they appear to constantly change in hue far too fast for perception to take hold of.

The baby hiccups and falls over and reveals a propped mirror behind it. I lean down to see what is in the reflection of the mirror. The reflection is of a large nude infant leaning over to peer unto itself. The eyes are alert, expressive and full of bewildered curiosity...

Samantha woke up and realized that her gray silk pillow was submerged in sweat. The smell was musty and sour. When she slightly moved her head, the pillow felt cold and jolting.  The room was dark and she could hear an electric buzz coming from her muted television. She turned over and felt overwhelmed by paralysis. Her clock read 3:01 am. How did she manage to sleep so long and miss nearly an entire day?

She pushed her lower body off of the bed and lazily shifted herself into an upright sitting position. All she could think about was the night before. It didn’t seem real. Was it real? Some man with a dark green suit approached Samantha and told her that she would no longer be the same. He walked away afterwards and she instantly began to feel disoriented as if the world she just woke up in was an artificial setup of the world she was once familiar with. Everything looked the same, but  felt quite different.

Under the bright warm green light, he fell fast asleep below a jet black sky teeming with pulsating stars as big as planets. His sleep state carried him into a very strange world.

As he slipped down into what seemed like a never-ending well made of smooth round-cornered stone blocks, rich forest-colored devils with emerald jewels for eyes and mouths that stretched open to reveal dancing screaming teeth, reached out to him with long two-fingered hands revealing semi-translucent, shiny, taut skin.

As he looked up while falling further below into...something...somewhere...he could see the coal black sky shrink to a tiny point which eventually disappeared.

He looked down and could finally see the end of the well. It was an open mouth with a large gleaming rapidly blinking eye in the middle. He felt he would die, feel excruciating pain or encounter a sensation which would obliterate him, but once his body fell through the open mouth and into the fluttering eye, he realized he was submerged in a very warm, embracing body of liquid. Liquid that composed the image of the large flickering eye.

Immediately, his mind and consciousness shifted and he experienced the perception of everyone that he had known and seen throughout his entire life. It was an indescribable and profound happening. He let out a mixed series of yowls, laughter, screams and indefinable vocalizations.

----

Glenda leaned over the bed and looked at her husband. He was in a deep sleep. She decided to wear her exotic black sweater tonight with shimmering crystal sequins. It made her feel elegant and special.

Tomorrow she would be leaving to explore new opportunities. It was time. He looked so peaceful in bed. So very vulnerable and innocent.

He never saw her for who she was. She knew that once he awoke, he would still be asleep, but alive somewhere else. With her he was dead and tired. No longer did her beautiful green eyes create a stir in his soul. Those days were gone.

She decided that the disappearance of special days held great wisdom. They were mothers embedded within a world of watchful esper mothers, swirling around amongst one another with their glorious strands of pixie hair, shaking off gorgeous particles of intoxicating sighs and snowy loving whispers.

She was infinite birth and an apotheosis of all seasons.

----

As all of the omniscient sensations emptied out of his body with each wild utterance, he felt the grasp of a hand becoming stronger around his left leg. The water felt so warm and fluid that he wondered if he was floating within a liquid illusion. He pushed his body around and saw that the hand was attached to no one. It bore a crisp-looking diamond ring with a gold band on the ring finger. The hand looked like it belonged to a woman. A woman with a slight pleasant build. Someone familiar but someone he couldn't recall no matter how hard he tried. The skin was delicate; as if it would tear away from the hand upon the gentlest of touches.

He reached down to grab the hand around his left leg and saw that it disappeared and reappeared on his right leg. However, upon reappearance, the hand was now decayed-looking, mottled gray in hue and the skin was jaggedly broken in several areas with an old worn leathery texture. The diamond ring was now replaced by a bulbous black spider with its thick hairy legs clenched around the hand's ring finger.

Something violently pulled him down into the liquid. He held his breath as he frantically felt his body moving further down into the liquid abyss. He could not make out any direction. He could not see and the temperature of the water became colder. So cold that he felt like he was going to become frozen. His body started to go into shock and he could no longer hold his breath due to time and panic. Just as he was about to give up, he felt his body land onto a soft springy surface. The coldness went away and he was no longer in liquid.

The area was dark but it began to brighten and reveal the interior of his bedroom. It was morning outside the open window next to his bed. The closets were open and his wife's clothes and belongings were gone. He could not move or speak although everything was visible.

His wife came back in the room to stand in the doorway and look over at him again. He tried to call out to her but she could not hear him. He tried again and failed.

He could only hear echoes of his voice as he looked into her eyes. Staring into them conjured up a fervent fever of aching and longing within. Like the early days.

The room disappeared abruptly and Glenda appeared everywhere. Even as he blinked, visions of Glenda appeared as split-second snapshots, reaching out to him in a faraway distance. He looked down at his body and saw thousands of copies of her hands reaching out to feel, grab and seize him.

The floor, filled with faces and garments of Glenda, broke away and revealed the opening of the stone-made well. He began to fall forever...always seeing the beckoning and smiling face of Glenda at the bottom.

She tried joking with him. Lifting her voice and seeing if he'd loosen up and eventually crack his usual crooked, warm smile. But something was wrong.

Very off.

Brian stared down at her with a very unsettling, piercing glare. The expression in his face was alarmingly serious and his eyes were hollow, empty and strange-looking, appearing much darker than usual.

Sharp instinct sent a jolt through her being and made her realize that her husband of 15 years was no longer there.  The presence standing before her, posing as Brian, felt gravely threatening and deadly; teeming with dark sadistic desires.

Caryn felt like if she said one more word to him or even reached out to touch him gently, he'd abruptly seize her by the neck with all of his capacity with wild eyes and strangle her lifeless.  She had never felt this energy from Brian and she was never scared of him nor did she ever have a reason to be. They had gotten into a typical mild argument earlier and now her attempt to break the ice had invoked the presence of a malevolent stranger.

Someone that had been lurking, undisturbed and asleep, within Brian since childhood.

There's an image that keeps popping up in my mind right now; a woman with a see-through belly showcasing multi-colored layered sand art below two prominent tits featured as large bulbous fishbowls each filled with exotic, frenzied-swimming, darting, glimmer-eyed fish. I don't see her head in most images, but when I do; her head is vaguely displayed as a spinning globe cocked to the side with a gold ring around it and a matching neck platform.

Maybe I should sketch this down in my sketch book. There has to be some message in this image somewhere as it keeps springing up.

I don't see her lower body, but I am thinking that I'd draw them as two skyscraper-like buildings. From the feet (first floors) all the way up to the top part of the inner thighs are many stories or floors with stairways that lead one floor to the next. There would be little people running up and down busily throughout these floors constantly performing tasks.

The pelvis up to the lower abdomen, which is right below the sand art belly, would be a birthing factory of some sort. The sand that falls from the belly into the pelvis-abdomen factory would have divine powers that produce life. The sand periodically leaking from the belly area into the factory, like sand seeping into the lower channel of an hour glass, would produce hyper and purpose-fixated homunculi...

Each contributing colored layer of sand from the belly would represent a different vital ingredient for form whole bodies.  The factory would incubate the sand mixture and in a certain time period eventually release a newly born but recycled humanoid. That's where all those little people running back and forth in the skyscraper building legs would come from. Each person would have a maximum number of tasks to perform upon birth. As the last task is completed, their life span would end and they'd shrink and dry up into a sandy powder of diverse hues and textures. Another homunculus would come and perform a cleaning task with a ceramic container, broom and dustpan to gather up the sand decay and empty it into one of the many small escalator-deposit openings located within the walls on each floor.

I love this somber and melancholy short track by Royksopp. It's from their album The Understanding, which is very good. It is called "Tristesse Globale". Someone created or edited a video on YouTube using the song as a backdrop. I'd have different ideas for a video, but it's the only video on the site where the track is played. The track is also available on my MySpace profile music playlist:

When I listen to it, the video evokes the overwhelming sensations of inevitable loss, suffocating sadness and consuming despair. The emotions are inescapable and fixed, making you utterly sick and ill with them. You can barely breathe or absorb the onslaught of feelings. Tears flow like the crashing, theatrical waters of a rebellious ocean. There's no rescue or horizon of release. Everything else disappears and waves of inexplicable pain wash over and the colorless night seems like it will last literally forever.

"So what do you do for a living?"
"I bake snakes."

"What did you think? That two men couldn't have sex together and not mistake a knife for a fork?"

"How's that washer and dryer unit working?"

She began laughing insanely and writhing violently on that filthy mattress.

"I am inclined to think that any man can chew his way through his own fat if he wanted to."

"What's so funny about this? I don't know anyone else? Do you? Because I've got a lot of jitters in my heart and each time I expel, the world moves with me."

"Susan doesn't think with all of her sunsets. Eventually, they'll all expire and that will be the Ends of Days for her."

"I know plenty of Christmas men. They are proud, strong and think with a good hunter and gatherer instinct. That'll make any mother proud, that she'll sparkle like a tree and her love will burn like an eternal flame in the passions and throes of the holy fireplace of life."

"Harmony and precincts go together. When one is absent, there's no place for individuals to gather in championship and peace."

"Why those would make a fine pair of gloves! Just hollow out the flesh and bone and hang them up to dry."

"You sure had me fooled. I thought you were lost. But now I recognize you again and we look the same."

The room was very dark, however upon close inspection; she could make out a vague shadow standing in the corner near the heavily curtained windows. The shadow appeared to be rocking back and forth in short sluggish movements. The head looked to be misshapen and the body was somewhat amorphous; long exaggerated extremities and bodily edges that looked to be viscous in texture.
There was a peculiar smell of smoke about the room. She held in her breath and lowered herself further below the bed's mattress level. The shadow began to slowly but steadily drift toward the bed in intermittent but brief displays of disappearances. It looked like a constant play of flickers and with each flicker, the shadow became less amorphous and more revealing...

"Charlie! Charlie!! Please listen to me! Listen to me!!"

"Would you stop yelling?! What's the matter with you? Why were you screaming like that? "

"I can't help it! There's something down there and we have to get out of here!! I know what I saw and...Oh Charlie I am so scared!"

"You stay right here. I am going to go --"

"No!!! Please don't go!! You'll be in danger! Please!! Listen to me!"

"Alright, alright! Calm down and tell me what you saw."

"I...I....I heard this humming sound while I was reading on the couch and it was coming from the refrigerator. So I decided to check it out and...Oh Charlie..."

"Go on...go on."

"I decided to check it out and I opened the refrigerator. I saw this other world Charlie! This other world!"

"What the fuck do you mean this other world? Are you out of your goddamned fucking mind! You must have been dreaming."

"No no no!!! I wasn't dreaming!! I saw it Charlie, I saw acres and acres of moving fields, tall zigzagged blades of grass and big mountains staggering in a darkening horizon! It looked like I could fall right through. I thought I was seeing things but I wasn't Charlie! I continued to look and before I knew it, the heads of these gel-like creatures appeared around the corners of the refrigerator from inside the view! They had large foreheads and I could see everything inside their heads...there was something, like a central eye in the forehead and that made me see a face when I looked into it. Christ! It was my own fucking face and I could see myself opening my mouth really freakishly wide like I was going to attack myself!! Eat myself whole! My face got closer and I thought I was going to fall into my own mouth and get swallowed so that's when you heard me scream and I couldn't stop screaming Charlie! I closed the door and ran upstairs as fast I could!"

"Evening Sir"
"Evening"
"Say, do you know where Oakley Avenue is?"
"I do. It's one more street over. Just continue down this path and you'll see it. You can't miss it"
"Wondeful. Thank you sir!"
"My pleasure."
The stranger's eyes crinkled tightly around the corners, he smiled and continued watering his grass.
George turned around to survey the path down the neighborhood road. He could see the street, that the stranger referenced, just down the path.
"Say sir, I have one more quest--"
The stranger was gone, along with his house and the entire neighborhood. Right in front of George was a door in the hue of soft dull blue. On the door was a label that said Oakley Avenue in bold Baskerville type. George was stunned and bewildered. He turned around again and saw that the back wall of an empty sterile room, in the same color of the door, had replaced the view of the neighborhood road.
George faced the door again and saw that it was now slightly ajar and a glowing yellow light was coming through.
George gave the room another look in complete confusion and apprehensively decided to push the door further open and explore...

"I don't like mustard. I especially don't like runny mustard. It's sickening, it's vile and very horrifying...and when I hear her talk, I become devastatingly ill."

"I smoke cigarettes because I can. You drink because you can't. Our convictions are different."

Voice tells me:

You must carve your own path. You must create the life you want. Stop living vicariously and start living proactively. Be the magician that you've always wanted to be and soon you will see all of your tricks materialize into very wonderful, living and breathing, spectacular entities. The hat is on the table, the books are scattered about for avid absorption and the wand is already in hand...you must solidify the wand's state through belief and action. The more you believe, the more you can feel that wand coming into being within your sacred hand.

Your path is your own and you must define and honor it outright. Do not degrade and discount its value, its place and its power to be and its allure and charm. You must let go of all shackles. You must be born.

From henceforth, celebrate your spirit and your essence. Whatever comes from this must be...without any sadness, apologies or regrets. Seek and you shall find...

a world of delights.

I sneezed and blew out all of the life I had left in me...but was there a creator still within?

Little Delights

I am discovering more about myself, but this is what I've always wanted...it can sometimes be a harrowing experience, however there are very surreal moments and certainly highly validating periods...the latter is the overlay...

parasite posed as a sweet and delicious cupcake

fingertips embedded with hidden doorways

clear numbers and unidentified shapes reveal the viewer

spiral displaying curved and infinite glances into other worlds

Do I have the courage to become a vessel?
Do I have the strength to crystalize?

Let's choose this title carefully and let it unleash a miracle...an absolute and startling wonder.

Pollen in the hallways of mortal wind leads way to keystone genesis.