ii

Porlock, part 2

ii

Porlock’s the black-hole of NEED.
An anti-source, the spirit’s vacuum.
The gravity ties us to the ground
Prevents us growing up from seek
Our soul is helium in the mind’s balloon,

And our body’s the string held by

The grubby fist of the person from Porlock.

Release me!
Release me.

If I burst, let it be when I rise to the Sun, when my rising vapour is at the maximum zenith.

The Porlock man of business sings:

Tie me kangaroo down, sport,
Tie me kangaroo down.

Let me rise.

I am not my blooded body.
My flesh is Marley’s lockboxes,
Chains. Seven years ago! Aie!
Parasite Flesh! Who can operate on me?

And what gases escape and are caught, are lost
my intellect f***s it up
My cleverness corrupts it.

Whatever gets out
must get moulded by words.

Words, words, words
Please don’t listen; just hear�"
I can do it, I’ve learnt
I can make language even dance

Do everything except convey the real meaning. The word is not the spirit. My thoughts aren’t shaped like letters

More than words,

cannot be art.

It can be felt through art but
Transcends the work.
Work done with hand and artifice
cannot communicate the true pre-intentions of the muse.

God is not diatonic.
Mortality is the cruelest limitation.
Suicide cannot help or alleviate this
The world needs love, but it

Just gets sex and commitment.
Dreams are the mind’s diarrhea

Flavour is the body’s inspiration
The funxion of bodily pain is
to�"by then going away�"make you think the body is good.
Numbness is not bad, but the recovery from numbness is bad.

Numbness is mastery over the flesh, usually failing presently.

The mind is a spider
The thought is her web.
The creation is the fly
And need is the feather duster.

The worldly goal is delusion.
‘Giving up’ fails.
How to escape?

Can we sense more fully without using sensory organs?
Eyes, ears, etc. limit the imagination dreadfully.

Words are expression’s greatest handicap, but almost its only crutch.

If I can succeed in communicating my idea, it’s a lousy idea.
Most of love’s many splendors are just the packaging.
The real value of sharing love is in communicating it without words or senses: Real communication.
It is the essence of that religion tries to impede men from reaching or perceiving.
Tries while wishing to achieve the opposite.

Words have value of a higher sort than funxion only if they can persuade the confluence of souls.
But they cannot succeed by intent or effort.

Words are the hole in the dam
The water represents the soul of God’s meaning.
The dam cannot easily break.
More words do not make more holes.
They flow through the speech organ one syllable at a time. Time is not a line. It is space.
The sea of space.
Events are the stars.

Life may exist in space, but it has not made contact.
It does not recognize us as sentient forms.
We can communicate, but we fail by the act of trying.

Need devours beauty.
Beauty seldom buries need.

Cooperation achieves communication
Shared purpose brings beauty.
Do not chase. Hope, but refrain from expecting.
Love anyway. You might be understood, despite it all.

Intention murders Inspiration.
One inspiration is worth a nation’s century of concerted efforts.

Saying I Love You might lead to knowing she loves you. It might lead, too, to knowing you love her. Love anyway.
It’s seldom pure, but nothing else can be pure.

The body sullies. The material hand swats angels dead.
Only the subconscious can grasp the true. All the conscious can do is interpret wrongly.

Interpretation is misinterpretation.
Logic distorts truth.
Intention is the foil of God’s purpose.
Our purposes are all mudblooded.
Reasoning burdens inspiration with values that are impure.

Advantage is filthy.

To fail can mean integrity of God’s purpose in you.

Success on earth means you sold yourself out. But our earthly bodies are filth anyhow, and must perish. Use success to unburden your life. Stop trying and you might hear God again.

Egg and sperm into birthed infant is a representation of God’s power of creation. It’s a metaphor which we should learn from.
The infusion of the soul

There is represented by the body.

Only the soul matters for long.

Jealousy, greed, envy, hate, and what we take for love�"falsely�"are soular pollution.

Joy is only real when we are surprised by her. Smiling for someone is fraudulence.

~~~

I love, often truly.

Sincerity is more than words.