I guess... Listen. If that's you - whoever you are - I know the rules; but I have to do something. I tried to leave it alone. I tried just getting on with my life; but I can't not say something. I can't just let...
Shit.
You know what I mean. Right?
[EDIT: IN POINT OF FACT, I DO KNOW WHAT THE AUTHOR - WHO'S NAME IS SIMON MERCY, BY THE WAY - IS TALKING ABOUT. ALSO, I'VE DECIDED NOT TO ERASE IT. IF THAT MEANS MY DEATH WARRANT, THE SO BE IT.]
No. That's not right. That was the first hurdle, I think. What I had to do was accept the fact that I am not human. At least, not human the way most people think "human." I had to come to grips with the difference between "me" and the "not me" I used to live my whole life believing I was.
Does that sentence make any sense?
This is harder than you think it is. It's harder than it should be.
These hands: they are not me. This breath: it is not me. I am not the sights or the sounds or the smells or tastes or feelings or maybe even the thoughts that come in at me from the universe. I am neither the receiver of these impulses, nor the reactions they elicit in this animated meat body I once called "me."
I am not this bag of flesh and bone and water. Hell - I am not the molecules or atoms or even the smaller particles that form around me and force me to experience reality through so limiting a filter as humanity.
I'm not saying it right. I can't articulate the thoughts in my head that want to exist here. Shit.
I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it. It took me almost a decade to sort through all this shit; and I kept wondering - the whole time - "why isn't there a manual for this?"
Why isn't there even just... I don't know: a flow-chart or something to show me how to get there? I hope you don't think that's what this is going to be. I mean... You just can't do it.
If you understand it, then you'll understand it when you see it. If you don't get it - well... It really can't be explained.
The Tao that can be named is not the Eternal Tao.
Motherfucker that used to piss me off. I think Yoda got it pretty close in Empire, when he said, "Luminous beings are we. Not this crude matter."
Which is close; but then - of course - it misses the mark by miles. And miles. I feel bad for even trying to explain it. I guess the reason for the ban on teaching is all this confusion. The depression that threatens to set upon me and give me stutter.
But then I have to answer you when you say, "what the fuck is stutter?" And I don't even know if I can do that right. Dammit.
Let me change gears here, and tell you a story.
The first time I crossed paths with another person like me was in 1978, just after I managed to break what I call the 6th Barrier (I will explain these things if I can). His name was Roland.
This is kind of a story about him - the reason I'm writing this. I didn't think this part would be so hard.
Roland was... odd, then. He had a long, scraggly beard and Einstein hair. I was at a small cafe in Paris, France, enjoying the company of a beautiful, young fille whose name escapes me at the moment. She had the best laugh, and she'd just said something funny. I remember I looked up from the conversation for just a moment, and I saw him.
He looked like a homeless man, begging for liquor money - only it was like looking into the sun, he was so brilliant. Like I didn't have to try to see his aura, because his aura manifested so powerfully it almost hurt to look at him. He was just standing there, staring at me.
Christ, I thought, is that what I look like?
Madeleine. The girl's name was Madeleine. I think I excused myself, telling her how mind-bogglingly beautiful she was, and I'd be right back, and I walked away from her forever.
Oh, sure... I could go back. I may even get drunk enough or lonely enough to do it still; but right now, she is this perfect funny, beautiful, young goddess - and nothing can tarnish that truth. If... shit - when I go back to her, she will become something new. She will be human again. Limited. Flawed. Real.
I'll hold onto the goddess awhile longer; but I'm off on a tangent. I was trying to tell you about Roland.
I walked up to the man and shook his hand. He cracked a joke in French about needing something to warm him up, and I gave him $100, US; then we ducked into a small tavern I knew half-way around the world.
This may take some time to explain.
