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This Death Thing

Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 7:42 am
by cochisewolf
About a hundred years ago I found myself in Federal Prison one day. My sister, we'll call her Jane, was a friend of mine. She was a painter, oils dontcha know, and quite good. She was a nurse, learned the trade from a grant given to her by the Army. Served her country and used her skills to help people. A far cry more decent a human being than yours truly could ever hope to be.

She wrote me religiously. People do that, when you go away I mean, they write you some letters, for the first 6 months or so. But when the months turn into years the letters trickle away to dust to be replaced by Christmas cards and the like. After a while even those vanish into the dust. Not Jane though. Every letter was like the ones I got the first few weeks in. Worried about me, asking how I was doing, sharing her day, her events, her life.

When I was a kid on the street she would always welcome me with open arms. We'd go down to the cemetery and drink some wine, okay a lot of wine. I was strung out in those days, mainlining whites, sniffing this and that, garbage head extraordinaire. We'd pontificate about the nature of life, the structure of the Universe, the silly schemes the guys on campus would use to try to get her attention, she was a hottie I guess.

Never once did she brow beat me. The word 'should' was simply not in her vocabulary. We would just talk, watching the moon, the stars, speculating on the lives of the people the names represented chiseled so delicately on the granite slabs that surrounded us.

The Feds like to shuffle you around. I was 18 months in a Naval brig, a couple of years up in a place called Sheridan in Oregon. The letters kept coming though. 'Are they feeding you good?', 'Are you safe there?' ... Oh yes, they feed me like a king I would always reply, they got this awesome pool table, I can hold it for hours. I'm taking correspondence courses, hell if there were women here they couldn't pay me to leave. She knew these were all lies of course and she made no secret of that insight.

Being a nurse she knew how to supplement the wine with other things. The good stuff that only the doctors can provide, not the creepy stepped on shit us spoon chasing zombies [in the once upon a time] liked to chase. Years before this desperation had caused me to seek out AA and NA (along with the help from some good judges but that's another story) and with these I had had some success.

Jane confided in me one day that things were getting a little out of hand and maybe she too should check these organizations out and would I help. Well by all means! I told her how to go about finding meetings, the 'phone therapy' stuff. Rattled off all the rules for how a drunk can stay sober. She started going to meetings and I was delighted. She asked me to be her sponsor. I told her that wasn

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 3:10 pm
by Issachar
Entheogens are a vehicle to understanding death better. Some of them even are named for that reason. I would like to communicate more on this topic, but I have to wait for the words to come to me. Words are just illusions, and right now i can't find the words to express how I feel without sounding generic and new age douchebugglery.

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 7:56 pm
by agni
is there an actual question or topic?
or is this a report that you do not understand and do not like death?

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 3:51 am
by cochisewolf
Well it started out as a question or topic but then sort of morphed into a therapeutic rant heh heh. No, I don't dislike death. It's a part, a vital part, of our reality. I find though that people don't talk about it or even acknowledge it except maybe with rote responses or canned theories. My intention was just to open up a discussion or dialog. I've found that people who use entheogens seem to be more open to such discussions. Maybe because many entheogens produce death experiences and they're no stranger to it. Maybe because such people seem to have more innate curiosity then those that don't use vehicles, I don't know. Usually discussions involving death invoke a lot of drama, a lot of fear, a lot of excitement, a lot of convictions. Why wouldn't someone want to talk about it? Yet most people don't.

I'm a curious sot. Because I can't cross a mountain doesn't mean I don't wonder, and want to talk about, what's on the other side. The fact that most people don't want to talk about that, or wonder about it, is to me in itself a curiosity. I mean, we're all heading there man! It's got to merit some discussion. I mean, no one's come back to tell me what the down low is about it, that alone is just curious as hell. I'm a seeker of the Truth, always have been. That such a huge segment of reality has got shuffled back to the broom closet to collect dust strikes me as just, well, weird. One is encouraged to be as curious as needed within three dimensions, but throw in a fourth, time, and people turn to dust. What happens in the future? Five hundred years from now, tomorrow?

I like such discussions because they lend themselves to creativity. They spark the best in free intercourse. I know from the old forum that there's people here that have just remarkable minds, unimaginable creativity and sheer art in the way they perceive the world. A lot of discussions are a bit too structured for them to really let loose. The beauty of talking about death is that there is no right approach, no wrong answer. I'd like to hear it all. The fears, phobias, acceptances, denials, anything that's from the heart, from experience.

Death makes life precious, turns each day above ground into a commodity. We owe a lot to death, it deserves at least some contemplation and conversation ...

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 8:32 am
by feral
The main reason I dont want to die, is that I wont know what happens to everything here when I'm gone. I dont believe I will know the future without being a part of it and therefore I wont know what happens to all the stuff around me now, and it is this one thing that I really want to know.

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Wed Nov 16, 2011 5:42 am
by cochisewolf
Yeah I get that feeling. I'm not sure I'll be able to see what happens here when I'm gone. I think if that were the case there'd be a way of making contact. To just be regulated to role of observer only doesn't fit right. That might be an aversion to talking about death too. Maybe there's nothing. Maybe our conscientiousness, our awareness of ourselves, just vanishes. That's a difficult one to swallow. But maybe, for us anyway, this is all there is. Hm, that's a depressing thought. Think I'll go occupy something ...

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 3:39 am
by Flapjack
they're all in heaven man and you'll be there too

sometimes dieing isn't scarey


I've spent much of my time thinking and reading about the world beyond, and what happenes when you die. I used to think that it was just a void of energy, like an abyss of water flowing all about, and incarnating things. But it's certainly a bit more fantastic than that. You see people smile when you describe the world to come like it is infinity more than anything anyone has ever experienced before. Like we've been living in just 0.01% of all creation, and even 0.01% is pretty incredible, but the other 99.9% is waiting just beyond us. A universe full of living planets, thriving cities, awsome places and peculiar things. Your cup will be over flowing with water, your body in a thousand places at once. Almost seems like you'd have to acquire some kind of super brain just to beable to maneuver around the place, just to beable to process it. Maybe it's not like that at all.

The entire universe will one day burn out and die. Where does it all go? Sometimes I believe in Heaven more so than other times. Sometimes it makes me want to die.

But we don't know enough about this world either. I don't know how to explain seeing ghosts and having prophetic dreams. Or even a black hole or a pulsar. How is that explainable? What could a black hole or pulsar possibly be made of? It must be an undiscovered element. It doesn't make any sense, but they're there and they happen everyday. I think the waking world itself is a lot more magical than people give it credit for. If you weren't constantly distracted by traffic, lights, television, noise, electricity, cell phones and fucking wind chimes my asshole neighbor decided to put up maybe you'd see some kind of phenomena. Atleast a meteor, I see those things all the time and everytime I almost shit in my pants. I don't know, the world is dieing.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure you can communicate with the dead if you really want to.

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 7:47 pm
by flickedbic
"Maybe our conscientiousness, our awareness of ourselves, just vanishes. That's a difficult one to swallow. "

Seems simple enough to me. I feel that just because we, the conscious force, will one day vanish: does not mean that the constant effect we have had on the world vanishes with us.

I believe our lifetimes are like the strumming of a harp... when the hand passes away the vibrations still eminate and reverberate off of and "play" with other present vibrational forces: tuning the music of the spheres.

So it is I believe the results of our actions in life (our lifes' vibration?) continue on in not only by the impressions made in the minds of those we have touched, but also in the fabric of existence itself.


Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 7:16 am
by cochisewolf
That's interesting. I was at some relatives over the T-Day thing and they had this pool with lights in it. There were were these waterfall like things you could turn on and off. At night I would turn it on and off for just a second or two. The interference patterns that developed were just spectacular. There were patterns within patterns and emergent designs. Shadows interplayed with light in a most unpredictable fashion. Aperiodic cycles. Then quite abruptly it ended.

But was it gone? The memory didn't vanish although the waves did. They returned to where they came from and in another fashion will return again. I found the whole thing comforting. I share flapjack's sentiment in that I'm constantly overwhelmed by the Universe. The sheer brute numbers is astounding. They talk of a billion stars in our galaxy and a billion galaxies that we observe. A billion!! In this age we banty about such numbers as if they were comprehensible. A billion gigs, a billion HZ, 7 billion people, a billion stars. To count to a billion at 1 second a number counting around the clock would take over 33 years to accomplish, to a trillion 33, 000 years to finish! A billion stars what a thing. Some people would have me believe the creator of such a thing has a vested interest in their football contest outcome or the position they lay in while making love. The sign of a person who quite clearly has never meditated on the concept of a billion but I digress in pettiness and refuse to waste a good buzz on such a pursuit.

That I saw a wave pass through my life sometimes quickly, sometimes a slow roar, that my wave went another way I should not in a very real sense feel sorrow but instead a joy at having a privilege of that passing. The thing that makes beautiful things beautiful is the temporal state that they occupy. That something (or someone) will never again be just so makes the memory a bright and shining jewel in an otherwise dark and endless night.

And that memory never really goes away does it? I mean, from conscience thought perhaps but it has become a part of who I am. And when I vanish from this veil of tears I'll be a part of others too. Time isn't linear as some had thought. Hawkins sees it as spherical. I think it's more fractalian in nature, an endless line even within a contained boundary, going close but never quite repeating any given point. I haven't talked to the dead but I'm quite certain I've felt them in passing. A certain kind of light refracting just so, a passing wind with a little extra curl, a sound who's source I'm not quite certain of, a hair raising there, a goose bump there for no apparent reason.

Those waves in the pool had another interesting feature. They were all part of the same water. Some of that water evaporated, got carried up into the wind,, may have caught a cloud going West. Condensed and fell as rain into the ocean, swirled and swayed among the currents and eddies, evaporated again into a cloud that thundered down on a mountain, took a river to the sea again, evaporated and rained once more, perhaps into the pool where the journey started ...

All the souls I've seen I've no doubt they still are ...

Re: This Death Thing

Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2011 2:34 am
by Flapjack
one of the reasons why I think there is an afterlife of somesort is because we are constantly confronted with death, and with the questions; why am I alive? What is life? What am I? What happens when I die? What was before I was born? Of God, of love, of other worlds, of higher thinking, of some other place. Why is it that we are conflicted with these ideas? Is there a reason for it? Surely there is more to the world than we can tell, or theorize. Things that surpass our imagination, our logic, and things beyond the capacity of our brain. It can't just be silly ideas, stupidity, or naive notions. Why am I so puzzled at my own reflection? It can't just be for no reason at all. 'The Void' is more or less an atheistic persception. It's not a goal of any discipline to become unconscious. Where is the void?

The Millenium Simulation

That's The Mighty Sloan Wall

lol where is this void? I don't see a void, I see infinity.

There's so much out there. Fill your heart, cry and sing, don't be hardened.