Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Meditation (with Jimi Hendrix)





When did I wake up in this false reality?  I sometimes find myself asking myself. The world outside looks plastic, a backdrop, like it would crumble if I pushed to hard up against it, or if I walk far enough beyond the horizon, which isn't very far, it's like the horizon in the Wizard of Oz, painted on a set, and that I will bump my nose if I try to go very far.  It's a trick of the eye.

Sometimes I wake up and I can't figure out how I got here or where I am or what the Hell anything means.  I don't know why this happens.  It isn't caused by anything in my life.  My brain merely malfunctions, or I somehow get stuck inside myself.  I have to find a way to break free.

I have to take the time to reconcile actual reality with my perceived reality, I need to meditate, or, better yet, play guitar, or something of that nature.  It's not generally very conducive for me to try and write when I get in this type of frame of mind; however, often times I find myself opening a bottle of wine or something, which generally doesn't help.  Okay, so maybe it does help, but, it works way better when coupled with an artistic pursuit.

Ultimately, it's the music, the writing, the painting (which I haven't done for a while, but I used to, somewhat, anyway) that sets me free.  When I listen to Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, The Kinks, The Beatles...  I get a sense that I am not the first (or will be the last) who have experienced this.  I am sure, to a certain degree, most, if not, all, people go through this.

At least I am not alone, and that fills me with comfort, even though it probably shouldn't.  It makes me part of the whole, instead of somehow on the outside of it.  No one is every really on the outside of it as much as he or she perceives.  Unless they force themselves to the fringes, and beyond, but I'm not going to go live in a cave.  Although it would be fun to go find a cave, go as far underground as I can, find some kind of underground lack, crystals sparkling all around from the water, which has an unnatural go.  I would go down there, and lay down at the edge of the water and stare up, emptying my mind, and just existing, the cavern around me glowing.

Maybe it is an artificial construction, but maybe it's not.  We all have a place like this in our minds, a place where we go to be alone, to wonder, in awe, to find peace inside ourselves.  When I come out of my cave, the world outside seems more vibrant, more alive, than I can ever remember it being.  It seems to shimmer and pulsate around me, and I absorb into it.

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