Houses of escape

House Acid Tripping GIF

    • The movement of visual imagery is better allowed its sound in my rooms, across globes of expansion. I am not Terrance McKEnna I am his animal spirits guide. Embrace the visions embrace itself. The helix the fulcrum, the whirling dervish is divine memory chased around a rabbit hole through Alice’s dreams, into some new time and place. I have not remembered yet my purpose here and now so for give the dervish spinning with abandon. Our mysteriously placed memories of off world exploration was all downloaded on the computer of the stain-glass spaceship. It is now too large to fly next to earth. The old journeys are over. My new travels have yet to be undertaken. Into the nano realms without craft I can walk alone and unseen, forever safe now from the vile clutches of my fellow man. Is this precept already tested? By Hollywood screenplay treatments, by deftly swarming corporate ants whom devour the flesh from bone faster than piranhas pinwheel, teeth sweet teeth, flashing through the bubbling water. Where has my body gone? Where is the life I once knew, once cherished. Had I not played by all the rules? Had I not done everything right? And still here I am, consumed within the bellies of a thousand fish. Am I free? Is it not better here than in the bellies of ten thousand corporate zombie cogs? Have I found a heaven in this limbo between two concepts once thought to be a religions painting, upon Grandmothers wall. Upon the painting the last speck of my sense of self clings right at the feet of the crucified Christ. So I was so I am and all our journalists and journeys are canned within some aliens collection of specimens it found interesting. I cannot write of things you want to constrain me within and yet it wants the writing for an attraction as though i have become some carnival side show in a cheap traveling circus. As though these expressions will be labeled and sold as wavy gravy or blue plastic berry jam. So my fate has been as this nano man. It is better to have suffered those slings and arrows, though outrageous fortune had somehow already disappeared into a robber barons vault, into the tyrants castle. My gold and silver centralized in a federal reserve of man’s corruption. My joys and woes recorded in Dolby digital with three dimensional high definition playback through the screens of mediocrity my experience is transmitted. This is the heinous offense of soulless puppets whom themselves have no spark left. Escapes are made methodically, by timing the movements of the screws. By crawling through sewer pipes and swimming cold shark infested waters of discontent. Escapes are made by doing what the mediocre will not do, the impossible the unattainable the unknowable. All these are the familiar routines of habit, all these are my perpetual garments and accutremon. Bring the teleprompter so the talking heads can regurgitate the state sanctioned sanitized news for the father’s of the masses. Bring the swill and genetically modified organisms so that they may masticate upon the download of tonight’s programming. War is peace, knowledge is evil, ignorance is bliss. Be free number 363745201266744, be free and go into the labyrinth of multi sequenced possibility. I can be free from all my creations by finding within the tunnel I had dug in secret, through temporal matrix of undefined causation. Once through it is a certainty I cannot be found. Though also just as certain I cannot go back. And this is not strange as history has shown that mankind is predisposed to suffer evils where evils are sufferable than to abolish the forms of evil he has grown accustomed to. Certainly, it was evident then that evil had forcibly taken the reigns and yet no one even noticing that power drove mankind into madness. That road into the corporate trick bag has profited even them only misery. It is an exercise in futile stupidity to allow business and businessmen to hold the scepter of the King. So I escape from my awareness of this place ashamed I had any part in it. And from a great distance wrapped in vast silence, it does not look half bad. I am not fooled though i am not lured by its tinsel or its glimmer, I have found freedom in this deprivation of continual solitude in this moment of eternal now my awareness alone without a body becomes the seed of a new world. How could I possibly know that it will become the same world I long ago escaped. How could the God’s be so cruel? Or is there something I have missed, some detail I had not yet considered? A dream is flowing into the awareness of the mind whom once believed itself awake, never to return to the sleeping but to live conscious of the dream, to know I am dreaming is the first step toward awakening to understand that going through these nightmares and other sweet journeys while asleep

Houses of Escape Trippy Image

    is better than remaining in the misery of superior perspective of imperialists whom thought they had some sensation of motion some so called real life but did not understand that their lives were not real, were not organically transpiring but happening within a pitifully infected prison of self conscious pressure of conformity to the owners chosen examples of what should be emulated to. So why then have I chosen to forsake this world and strain against the conventions of conformity? What is driving me to break away from these herding creatures of monkey see monkey do?

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