[SPOILERS ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF MY SOUL]
[Wouldn't you like to know?]
I wanted to follow up with you about this message. I've been scavenging flowers from dumpsters for 2 days. I kept metrics in my notepad. 2 days, 258 flowers, 9 varieties.
258 happy people, 2 days, and yeah I haven't slept yet. I never made 258 people happy in 48 hours before... Oh, I like to say down on the street with a bouquet to passersby, "I was here. I was thinking. I just want to make people: happy." It's pretty groovy.
258 flowers, roughly 200 business cards, and yeah. I didn't know whether or not I was giving someone a flower with a card or just a flower. I just wanted to make them happy.
The repercussions of this experience feel wonderful. Echoes of every flower passing from my hand to theirs; from theirs wherever they direct their will in the world. I just want you to be happy with however you choose to live your life. I know comprehensive conceptual and symbolic frameworks resultant from a path similar to the conclusions of the left-handed path of Tantra. I've lain with the devil, cursed god above, and I've been through terrible, dangerous places fast.
My viciousness, yeah, it's really worn down. I just want to make people happy. And I just want you to be happy. I may be self-indulgent, but I'm incapable of expressing selfishness in terms of another human entity. The things that I know about this world are for me for the path I took. If you're curious, ask me. The repository of my, "wisdom," is wide open to you. My only condition is that under no circumstance are you to take anything I say at face value and accept it, even if you think I'm right; and if you think I'm wrong, tell me why.
Sometimes, the spirits of people I interact with float thoroughly through my experiential framework and embody cosmic aspects as symbolic reference to meanings, and always the spirits of people I perceive are reflections of myself. All bodies are made of the same essential stuff as the lights in the sky. Sometimes, I sense your spirit rebounding through my fleuorneurosponge. And, I ain't mad about it. Then, I see my eyes wane, and my complexion softens; a taught brow relaxes, and my temperament shifts -- echoes of you rebounding in my soul.
I am a being born into this world that existed before me, and will certainly exist after I pass. I am a being whose eyes always searched for something that can never be found, like a reason. My personal search for meaning's die was cast in my youth and directed by countless second-guesses and re-indecisions. I surmounted apathy, and submersed myself in skepticism. I am becomings and goings; I am precisely defined as a collection of logical and synthetic heuristics. I look back and laugh, although I would have gladly purged my existence from Earth years ago if I never learned my impermanence stratagem. The human condition is a complicated ordeal, and I find increasingly that I gain momentum and courage everyday to believe in wonder, magic, and beauty -- I believe many things, but only those things proven time and time again by each circumstance to be true as my eyes blue. My life comes to a crescendo; my best friend's life comes to a diminuendo, and although we grapple with similar concepts and experiences comparable to divinity, we come to different conclusions.
I believe in an ever-realized redemption in embrace of the human condition. I adore my capacities for productive activity, and I acknowledge my fear. I hold nothing back, and utilize innumerable scopes of reason to prevent overly-specifying or overly-generalizing any one particular concept.
I disdain binaries such as doubt and belief, love and fear, because the human condition cannot be defined so imprecisely. Identifying any aspect of unveiling with an absolute is an unreasonable folly. The one who throws an entire aspect of their humanity under the bus is guilty of ignoratio elenchi (the fallacy of missing the point).
I am writing this because I see you reach so high, and stand between understanding what you seek which blows your mind, and you scrape at unitive knowledge of the godhead. I am writing this, because you asked me to teach you, and you named me your friend. I hold you in high regard to tell you deeply personal truths that I refrain from telling people as a general rule, because these are the things I was made to learn by the cosmos; it is my belief that you will be taught what you need to know by the cosmos.
Reality splits at its seems, and the great unveiling will burgeon and a great, big bubble will burst should you choose to keep eating Earth acid. I rewired my synapses countless ways with acid. It cleansed me clean; I lost my individuality. Everything is perceptually new to me each time I see it. Sometimes, I feel as though I'm losing my grip when I pass streets I know, and fail to recognize the streets except by name.
I feel very much so the kind of cat you've never met. I'm convinced that the physiological memory of laying partially in your lap and mewing as you pet my hair impacted me forever.
What I desire more so than to be with you, although I still think frequently about your company, is to teach you. I wished so much that someone would interact with me who is receptive as I am adaptive. You can call me silly, if you like, but I believe we've been brought together by the universe for a meeting of minds to learn from each other. You teach me so much about a softened inflection and easy temper; I am sure that you will teach me not to wear people down, as well.
Words, promises:
Should you need to call on my presence, I will render myself in the appropriate capacity according to a scope of reason. If you get scared or sad or when the gravity of the world becomes too burdensome, I will share in your misery with understanding and empathy, and I will be keen on just the perfect thing to say situationally.
We'll make art, and have fun, and go to other cities and do drugs. Because, Kelsey, when we go to other cities to do drugs, we embark on adventures of meaning through the experience of being there.
Finally, if you made it this far, do you want any MDMA at the convention?
HAHA DISREGARD THAT I SUCK COCKS