dinsdag 26 augustus 2014

DIARY OF THE MOST BELOVED DEATH 4 karma waste

1     (110 days she is dead.)
                                                               Here on this couch I am near my Darling. I concentrate; adjust the antennae. I take in the 
                                                               silence. Take as truth what I come across in the silence.
                                                               If the silence is complete, I can look far – complete meaning devoid of culture-noises. If the 
                                                               darkness is complete, I can hear far.

                                                               The supposedly familiar developments in the supposedly familiar part of the cosmos often 
                                                               elude me, while in the part of the cosmos that is subject to all kinds of guesses I am fairly 
                                                               well at home – and the developments here are easy to perceive.

                                                               Here on this couch I am near my Darling. Endlessly I wander in my solitude, without ever 
                                                               getting lost.



2     1 day later (111 days she is dead).
                                                               Such a nice circumstance, to be able to start the day with some actions that refer to lived 
                                                               love.

                                                               A destination interacts with a disposition. Lived love has changed the way I experience my 
                                                               disposition, without changing my destination. Because it made me experience my disposition 
                                                               in a different way, lived love has changed the trajectory to my destination; through a changed 
                                                               evaluation of my disposition I have been able to arrange my life in a more appropriate way.

                                                               The memories that you have access to (and that provide you with knowledge) relate to the 
                                                               place where you live and to the period in which you live. Easy or tough; the choice is not up 
                                                               to you (– unless you suppose that this choice was made before your birth, from another 
                                                               sphere). If, within the culture I grew up in, different truths had been generally accepted as 
                                                               true, the earlier stages of my life trajectory might have been easier (– those of someone else 
                                                               perhaps tougher). 

                                                               Lucky me, who can re-express lived love.
                                                               Thank you Darling, soothing.



3     42 days later (153 days she is dead).
                                                               Darling sometimes you can be so distant. 
                                                               In the noise my voice does not reach you; only a voice originating in my silence 
                                                               reaches you.
                                                               Real silence, not the stolen moment.
                                                               Accrued silence, the concentrated movement.
                                                               I have to get rid of all the hassles; the hustle and bustle of what and how and who and 
                                                               where and how much and why. So I can be together with you.

                                                               Believe me Darling, like I believe you! 

                                                               That we love together and will love together. That we live together and will live 
                                                               together. That we laugh together and will laugh together.
                                                               And are we happy? Yes we are happy – and were happy and will be happy!



4     17 days later (170 days she is dead).
                                                               Due to the unbroken mirage-reflection, I sometimes prefer still water to running water.

                                                               By having experienced lived love, I have vitalizing nutrition at my disposal – sufficient for the 
                                                               remainder of my life.
                                                               Isn't that right Darling! You were my earth beast of the most ethereal magnitude. And 
                                                               you are my ethereal beast of the most earthly magnitude.
                                                               My earthly anchor is a transparant transformation.
                                                               My care for her and my interest in her and my attention for her mean riches for me; riches 
                                                               and well-being.

                                                               And being anchored in data that have meaning for me is another of those luxuries that I only 
                                                               recently can call mine. The date of tomorrow is one of them. And now I am in its pre-
                                                               shadow; which is part of the luxury. My Darling provides me with a complete outfit – a 
                                                               complete calender.
                                                               Since days and years the bill of days and years is partly paid with this kind of fetishes. To her 
                                                               it makes little difference, but to me it is pleasant for a change, to have this kind of magical 
                                                               equipment at my disposal.
                                                               Especially since one of the things magic does not agree with is the lie. And because I am not 
                                                               too crazy about lies either, but am not always able to detect and catch them directly, an 
                                                               additional detector like this has a calculable added-value.



5     100 days later (270 days she is dead).
                                                               Never did I see a face that was like a blank slate.

                                                               Now I want something beautiful, something earthly, to celebrate her transparant presence – 
                                                               something material. A thing so new that it does not take the place of something that it 
                                                               replaces
                                                               I am thinking of a ring for my ringless fingers, a ring of bone with a brown stone, set off with 
                                                               a black lining.
                                                               And maybe one for my other hand too – with a blue stone.
                                                               Yes I have a presentiment that starting with rings now will contribute to my well-being.



6     190 days later (460 days she is dead).
                                                               Ah these circumstances Darling, when to me it is almost impossible to throw off all the 
                                                               ugly hustle and bustle – of what and how and who and where and how much and why.
                                                               Who is not you, Darling, for you are most beautiful and oh if it wasn't for you I was 
                                                               not.
                                                               That is how it was – and that is how it is and that is how it shall be.
                                                               You my Utmost Delight, yes you conjure up a smile upon my face; my eyes smile, my 
                                                               mouth smiles.
                                                               Oh to be near you and to be with you! Yes Honey, I feel you.

                                                               The center of my terrestrial existance – what keeps me in one piece on this earth, what 
                                                               synchronizes my data – is the identified nothing. Yes you, Darling. The identified nothing is 
                                                               the identified all is the identified self is the identified you. Yes you, full as well as empty and 
                                                               empty as well as full.

                                                               I am as empty as it is silent here.
                                                               The core lies naked and big and shiny. Reflecting.
                                                               The knowing without expression. The expression as the knowing. Inalienable. 
                                                               The truth is a lady dog who goes by the name of NCC.



7     1 day later (461 days she is dead).
                                                               Generally it is true, that culture feeds on Time. Both material and immaterial culture. For me 
                                                               personally it is true, that my cultural education has had on me the effect that Time was taken 
                                                               from me. It also took up my time of course, but that is a mere bagatelle compared to what 
                                                               the big Time issue has meant for my life.

                                                               What is of this earth may be riches; only if you are able to connect with them, these riches 
                                                               enrich. By knowing my Darling – and by being known by her – I am connected to what is of 
                                                               this earth. And without a doubt this has also been true for the first few days – weeks, maybe 
                                                               months – of my life. And by then already I was broken. And I remained broken until after 
                                                               my fortieth.

                                                               Ah, if I would not know my Darling, I simply would not know the meaning of (my) normal.
                                                               No doubt about it, Sweetie Sweetie Bella!



8     1159 days later (1620 days she is dead).
                                                               This is how I wanted it and this how I have it: not detached and yet never disrupted.
                                                               Thanks to who? Thanks to my most treasured Treasure, naturally.

                                                               In another time, my life passed me by. And also life did not know where to find me. Until she 
                                                               – NCC – found me.
                                                               In another time, death found me. I have become a servant of the beloved dead one – NCC. 
                                                               By celebrating my love for her I honor her – and she nourishes me.
                                                               My expressions of her – NCC – are my expressions. Perhaps my expressions are 
                                                               nourishing, for someone here or there, just as her expressions are vital for me. If I do not 
                                                               experience her expressions – actually – then once again my life passes me by – then once 
                                                               again life passes me by.



9     380 days later (2000 days she is dead).
                                                               This morning I rose calmer than how I went to sleep last night.
                                                               In wordly terms I am happy; so much I have
                                                               – a delightful love-contact with my Darling
                                                               – a single, but then again a very good, more-than-friend
                                                               – a few nice long-term, long-distance contacts
                                                               – a fabulous house among nice people in a nice location
                                                               – settled family relationships
                                                               – some entertainment with a book, a film, an internet surf, a radio program
                                                               – not much money, true, but I am still eating
                                                               – a dysfunctional partner-contact, also true, but never a doubt that I am living with the wrong 
                                                               partner

                                                               All confirmations I ever craved (and the absence of which, I thought, was the reason for my 
                                                               blues) I have enjoyed in abundance as time passed. And now my Darling – who knows me 
                                                               like no other – makes me see that ultimately I have an inner aversion to what it takes to live. 
                                                               Aversion in the sense that there is something in me, that averts itself from life. And this has 
                                                               nothing to do with the culture, or the system, in which this life unfolds; it annoys me, for 
                                                               example, that I have to eat every day.
                                                               If I ignore this aversion I come into a stream of optimistic action, and paired with this action 
                                                               comes an accumulation of hysteria nuisances, that alienate me from me. And after yesterday 
                                                               – a day of twenty-four hours of concentration of love quality (instead of the one hour, as 
                                                               throughout the year) – I am again relatively free of specified nuisances, and again completely 
                                                               calm. Completely through and through, and not only in behavior; I do not have to force 
                                                               myself calm, but I am calm.

                                                               Even with this aversion, arranging a worldly existence can easily be done. But when I, in the 
                                                               periodic recurrent denial of this aversion, 'go for it' – something I 'finally' occasionally 
                                                               'succeed' in during the past few years – things fall apart. In the sense that my I disintegrates. 
                                                               As a result of which my body can hardly digest the reintegration, when she and I – like 
                                                               yesterday – look each other in the eyes for more than a few times a couple of flashes per 
                                                               day.
                                                               That I distrust me because of this dislike of life, is – it seems to me – an effect of the 
                                                               internalization of the standard of the hyped vita-lustical norm of behavior. And is not 
                                                               'celebrating life' just another idea to escape the duende?
                                                               It has long been my commitment to try to eliminate this 'negative'. Among others, I have 
                                                               formulated it as an effect of the fact that primarily my right to exist had not been confirmed. 
                                                               Not that it is not so, that my existence never was confirmed – and rarely is – but the core of 
                                                               the matter is the aversion, which has to do with a condition (disposition) that does not vibrate 
                                                               with, or feels like a fish in water within, the earthly conditions and that feels more at home in 
                                                               the spheres that are more hers than this terrestrial sphere.
                                                               But, I endure earthly existence. Without nagging and without resisting it. Which – it seems to 
                                                               me – is already quite something.

                                                               Tears Darling, tears.
                                                               In the madhouse, I would have ended, had you not connected your life to mine. If I had 
                                                               not met you – and you had not met me – I would not have made it.
                                                               For my intellectual health was at odds with my emotional unhealthiness. And my 
                                                               emotional health was at odds with my intellectual unhealthiness.
                                                               Both unhealthinesses undermined both healths. And normal or balance or natural 
                                                               were no part of my reality, before I knew you – and you me.
                                                               You called – and call – upon the expression of my healthy emotion. You called – and 
                                                               call – upon the expression of my healthy intellect. And thus you activated – and 
                                                               activate – the expression and the flourishing of my healthy body.
                                                               Because of my feature, that I do not detach easily, I would not have succeeded in 
                                                               moving away from the frenzied little worlds that fenced me in – and fence me in – up 
                                                               close and further away.
                                                               This feature used as one of its instruments, that I lived the idea – and would live the 
                                                               idea, if I did not know you and you did not know me – that my healthy intellect could 
                                                               handle my unhealthy emotion, while in practice my healthy emotion was no match for 
                                                               my unhealthy intellect.
                                                               You saved me – without you I would not have come to me.
                                                               I said it many times: I cannot get enough of you; of you, the complete other, whom  
                                                               I love completely.

                                                               My present life is best characterized as a double life. A daily life, that demands my time and 
                                                               my body and gives little. And an NCC-life, that gives me time (and feelings and thoughts and 
                                                               insights and creativity) and demands little.
                                                               That's how it is Darling.



10    10 days later (2010 days she is dead).
                                                               In my NCC-life every day is a good day. Naturally. But this day also a good day in my 
                                                               daily life. Fairly.
                                                               So, Great Great Love, it was not bad today. 

                                                               This day she told me to treat my daily life as a game; that this is thè way to deal with that 
                                                               reality.
                                                               It used to be so, that this was the manner in which I handled it. I have opposed this concept 
                                                               however, and for a long period I have sought an alternative authenticity.
                                                               Now I can feel the wisdom of this simple elegant acceptance; daily life is nothing more and 
                                                               nothing less than a game, that – like every game – asks to be played very seriously.
                                                               In this light, my aversion – which relates to the daily life – is of no consequence.
                                                               But yes Darling, also in my daily life, you are a super playfriend – as you were a super 
                                                               playfriend and as you will be a super playfriend.
                                                               Yes we were a super team – and we are a super team and we will be a super team. No 
                                                               concentration as yours, no stamina as ours. And always surprising: we do not play – 
                                                               and did not play and will not play – to closed result, we play – and played and will 
                                                               play – to open results. Just as I like it like it like it.

                                                               You are right Darling. As always the purest compass.


                                                               NCC. The sweetest. The most beautiful. The holiest.



11    550 days later (2560 days she is dead).
                                                               More and more I function as a general-normal person, while my abnormal normality is 
                                                               becoming more and more structural.

                                                               Such a wind this morning, Darling. Like a galloping herd of elephants, from far it 
                                                               came closer. A beautiful powerful spectacle. Worthy of an artist of your size. 

                                                               Now that you have been dead for seven years Darling, I am more worldly than I ever 

                                                               was. Because now, my double life hardly exists of separate compartments – and 
                                                               therefore, to be precise, is no longer a double life. I mean separated by successive, 
                                                               alternating time compartments. Now simultaneously: I-worldly and I with you. Now 
                                                               always: you free with me. 

                                                               Every day we come across the X-factor. Yes Darling, every day a different one. 

                                                               Expressed in plus and minus the outcome is zero. And also every day the Y-coordinates 
                                                               want – and get – their little chat. 



12    524 days later (3084 days she is dead).
                                                               A long period I was displaced in worldly terms, due to an unclear genetic cocktail. A long 
                                                               period I was displaced in cosmic terms, due to a minor talent to deal with the earthly 
                                                               circumstances (to blend with the earthly circumstances). 
                                                               These are two separate conditions, which have strengthened each other – and with it the 
                                                               feeling of being displaced.

                                                               The sublime is the private paradise. The sublime is not the criterion of daily traffic.
                                                               The mission of my life could be: to settle for what feels less good than the sublime. 



13    2 days later (3086 days she is dead).
                                                               I served Love – and serve and will. And Love has proved a worthy ally. For long our 
                                                               covenant has placed me in the shadow of life. Now I taste the light.
                                                               My spiritual status is that I am all space; (The) Nothing. My material status is that I have very 
                                                               little space in me; in a day I can only handle very little and already this space is filled. 



14    4 days later (3090 days she is dead).
                                                               All in all, my need to conform to the image of human has always been very small. Yes 
                                                               Darling, that's right. But nowadays I can acknowledge it and I live it.
                                                               I already mentioned it: if I get rid of my cultural shell we recognize each other. This 
                                                               was true when you lived – and this appears to be true, now you are dead. 

                                                               And if this would not be as it should be, you would not be with me. Because at the 

                                                               slightest false step you turn away from me. So it was Darling and yes so it remains – 
                                                               you my Purest Compass, who always keeps me in the sweetest waters!




© mc 2003-2014





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