Damn, I hate Consciousness.
Like, the other day, I got rip roaring drunk. Me and my peeps was sippin’ The Red and don’t you know, as I slipped off into the State of Inebriation (next to Ohio), I hear consciousness say, “I’m always here.”
“What??? Fook you! Get off my back. Leave me alone!!!”
I wake with a galactic hangover and Consciousness doesn’t care at all. There it is, as it always is…
Consciousness doesn't care what I say or do, or even think, and I’m startin’ to think that Consciousness doesn’t give a rat’s ass about “me” at all.
I’m sick to death of Consciousness. It follows my arse everywhere I go. No matter what I’m doing, there’s Consciousness, doing what it always does, which is nothin’ at all. Just frickin’…being (and what good is that?). And it’s not even being “there.” I have no idea where it is, or from where it comes, but I do KNOW it never leaves me alone.
Stupid consciousness! I hate it…
As much as I try to shake it, somehow it eludes all my attempts. The other night I was watching mindless TV and there it was being Consciousness as it always IS. I complain, but all it says is, “where could you go that I would not Be?”
You’d think that it would frickin’ sleep! But nooo! Consciousness doesn’t sleep…EVER. It doesn't rest and is on me 24/7.
The problem is that Consciousness is non-judgmental. No matter what evil bullsheit I’m thinking or doing, Consciousness is always right “there.” If it weren’t for Consciousness, I wouldn’t feel so guilty all the time. I blame Consciousness for everything, but Consciousness couldn't care less!
I wish Consciousness would go torment somebody else. Go haunt somebody else's life. But it responds that "there is NO other." Then it tries to make friends with me by telling me I’m IT. But, fook that! I don’t need no Consciousness to tell me who or what I am. Consciousness can go fook itself, cause I ain’t playin’ IT’s game.
Just when I think I’m close to figgerin’ out how to shake IT. I hear, “do you really think that what happens to "you" matters to me?”
Damn, I hate consciousness!
Why does it think it knows everything???
But what’s worse is I've discovered that Consciousness has a buddy and his name is Existence. I never knew Existence was there before, but now it’s like I’m being tag-teamed. When one steps back, the other kicks into gear.
It’s almost like they’re ONE thing for chrissakes!!
Dang! I hate Existence too...
Why don’t they both just leave me alone!
Nope! They’re always there…
I try to hide. But they always find me…
The other day, they pissed me off so much that I threatened to shoot myself and end it all. But then Existence chimes in with, “you are, because…I AM and I AM... always" and then Consciousness got all uppity with, "there cannot be non-existence, because there is nothing that is not me."
What!? So I’m stuck with you forever? For all eternity??
Can you believe they both laughed when I asked that question!
(sorry, but I don't know what they find's so damn funny)
Damn, I hate Consciousness…
Artwork by Fred Einaudi - "Homunculus"
There are days that require much drinking.
ReplyDeleteI'm guessing the girl in the picture represents consciousness and our little ego self is hanging on for dear life.
Somewhere beyond all this there is Peace.
I'll meet you there (next to Ohio)
The pic was a bit ambiguous for some but you nailed it.
ReplyDeleteThanks Annie,
Mike
An interesting post. Kind of Upanishads-ey, but less adorned with poetics. The piece I am thinking of, specifically, is: Like two birds of golden plumage, inseparable companions, the individual self and the immortal Self are perched on the branches of the selfsame tree. The former tastes of the sweet and bitter fruits of the tree; the latter, tasting of neither, calmly observes.
ReplyDeleteOh well, many things exist...consciousness notwithstanding.
Yo~
:)
I always liked the pseudo-mysticism of the Moody Blues. Surely, the lyrics and poetics make consciousness easier to bear...giving to it a sense of momentary release. Words like:
ReplyDeleteBe it sight, sound, the smell, the touch.
There's something,
Inside that we need so much,
The sight of a touch, or the scent of a sound,
Or the strength of an Oak with roots deep in the ground.
The wonder of flowers, to be covered, and then to burst up,
Through tarmac, to the sun again,
Or to fly to the sun without burning a wing,
To lie in the meadow and hear the grass sing,
To have all these things in our memories hoard,
And to use them,
To help us,
To find...
Then, there is all that hysterical laughter. Pure, glorious madness. Yes?
When one is young, imagination is such a profoundly wonderful tool. When one is old, one listens to the Moody Blues and remembers what a coping tool it was. Then, one understands the hysterical laughter.
Reminds me of Douglas Adam's famous quote :
ReplyDeleteIn the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move. :)
You're not conscious. You are aware that there is more than your superficial BS that you try really hard to believe.
ReplyDeleteYour awareness is spreading and it scares you. Too bad. Drink it away.. works for a lot of people...
@anonymous 4:53 PM--It may have been said somewhere, but personally, I find the pirate's life works for me.
ReplyDeleteThe pirates life is definitely a good life. I can't think of a better one.
ReplyDeleteStay with it!
mikeS