So we must preserve it.
Every last drop. And our cerebral spinal fluid holds it all in, like a stasis field. Until we crack.
Case in point: My friend David K.
He thought he would drop in on me, unexpectedly. Spoil the little trance I had going on. But for some reason his chute didn't open.
There he was, dead, sprawled out on the pavement. Parachute still strapped on his back, unopened. His body twisted in all sorts of contortions.
Cerebral spinal fluid leaking everywhere.
What a waste.
Not something I want to see.
See, I'd rather not see too much.
So I went back to my little trance, my little ritual.
The whole cell phone thing.
See I don't own a TV.
And I don't drink alcohol anymore
not since mother aya
But that doesn't mean I ain't numb.
You probably got something too?.
Some little ritual you do when things get hot.
Some little dance you do.
and I'm not calling you autistic
But we are all on our own little spectrum.
For who really wants to see what's life's about.
that silence
So before you go back to your little ritual and I go back to mine
Let me share a secret with you
the whole eparter le bourgeois
And it is this: snails operate on gamma brain waves
There are already there.
The highest state of consciousness
and unless we are a Buddhist monk, or having some near death experience, or being born, or taking DMT we ain't going to come close with our slow little alpha and beta brain waves to seeing what those goddamn snails are experiencing 24-7.
think about it.
We run around doing all manner of crazy
but everything we do ain't going to amount to a hill of beans in the long term
right Ozymandias?
and they, those crazy little gastropod molluscs are just chugging away at 40 Hertz all blissed out and not giving one rats ass at what all the frenzied hominoids are doing around them.
or do they care?
maybe that little slime trail they leave everywhere is their way of sharing cerebral spinal fluid with us, and all creation.
For they cracked a long time ago, and have plenty to give.
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