Updated: Mar 4
It was about 5:01 and I was laying there gasping for air, after a few hours of intense water boarding in dreamland I needed a couple deep breathes to slow my heart rate usually at a brisk and lively 150bpm. Woohoo, its going to be a good fucking day. Why? Well basically because if you adjust the angle and focus a little bit, pretty much every day is a good one. And when the day starts out by saving you from drowning based torture you can pretty much guarantee that its going to be better than the night at the very least. I don’t have a lot of exciting or over the top plans, but I am about to go pimp out the resume a little bit and try to hop back into the lovely realm of acquiring legitimate finances. Its obviously not something I would have been excited about at some point in my life but that’s my favorite part about acute contrast because today it feels as if “making a resume” involves trampolines and naked women. And who knows, maybe it will, I know for sure that stranger things have happened.
Id like to get a vehicle, both powered by gas sipping machinery, and also to take me to where I’m destined to go, whether this is the same vehicle or not time will tell, but I won’t… I’ve always enjoyed the motion and relaxation that comes with driving with no destination, its one of the last frontiers in American freedom still left untouched by the crushing pressure of internal conflict and skull splitting expectations. Driving is the last remnants of our hunter and gatherer predecessors, as murder, rape and pillaging is frowned upon in most “polite” society. But, depending on your race and location we are still relatively uninhibited to hop in a vehicle to drive around for no other reason except to bump music and abuse nicotine if that happens to be your vice. My favorite part of driving is the when you see everything shrinking in the rear-view mirror. Not necessarily because I’m running away, and don’t get me wrong I’m a fan of running away (ask a couple exes) but it’s the only activity where I can see the past shrinking and feel the seemingly endless potential of the next activity expanding at the same time. There are probably many experiences that encompass the same process but I’ve never been able to find them outside of a vehicle. I’m more excited to feel that sensation again than I am of anything else.
On the topic of sensations, I’m in a full up swing of human evolution, I can literally sense the neurons firing in my mind as I finger stroke this out dated piece of shit computer. Which is almost startling without the assistance of stimulant drugs? But without the old personal assistant it feels different like they’re firing in more purposeful lines like a slalom skier, less like the chemical circles and endless hours of bubble spinner and masturbation that accompanies its amphetamine-based cousins. It’s the contradiction that I would attribute between dancing salsa, and twerking at McDonalds, both probably equally fun, but just in different ways. I can feel endorphins on a slow drip and less of a levee breaking swell that is hard to enjoy knowing that the aftermath is going to be stressful and depressing. Slow mo. gratification is my new favorite drug. That might sound cornier than Nancy Reagan saying “No” while popping valium, but the truth of the matter is this zone I’m in is very different than it was and the little nagging voice that’s telling me to throw a grenade into the whole thing and walk away with flames behind me sounds like a parent I want to rebel against. Blame it on the brain damage, maturation, or whatever you need to understand that I’m not going back to that other shit.
I was wearing prism goggles trying to play cornhole when a theory hit me, your brain adjusts to every conceivable variable that you can throw at it, and I think turning up the chaos on the environment outside of my brain has equalized the Buzzsaw inside of my skull, and then over time I was able to decrease the levels on both sides. Basically, what I’m saying is even though it might not have been in the healthiest or low-impact way that would make me recommend it to anyone who I wanted to survive, but I basically used trauma as a weapon to combat trauma. Like chemo therapy, controlled burns, and preemptive bombing to avoid war I’ve used the destructive forces around me to kill the demons internally. Fight fire with fire. In a biblical sense, I stabbed both of my eyes out in order to save my sight, and with the help of whatever processes aided in this process it somehow worked. Disclaimer, obviously this is not a prudent or proven method, but it worked for me. It’s a lot like how the adult film industry has the power depending on who participates to empower you, or destroy you. I guess I just caught the lucky end of the astral chainsaw that was hurdling towards me. And like a lucky half court shot with a blindfold on Ill never be ever to do it again, but I can still try to jot down the mechanics of it, maybe someone can streamline the process and distill it to a less destructive game.
“Trash science” is the best way to describe the journey to put yourself at risk in order to enhance your life, but many adrenaline junkies and war addicts can attest that it works. Like yoga curing cancer, or optimism extending your life, no one knows why its effective, but it is as much beneficial as it is fatal. In honor and expression of those same slaves to advancement and adrenal fiends, I would like to now take an extremely fast hairpin turn at 100 mph, so to speak.
Time travel is something that has always intrigued me, not because it’s a way to go back and change “mistakes”, But because its something that society has put great emphasis on as being impossible and foolish, but something that all of us are experiencing constantly. Everyone with a working memory is constantly experiencing real life events in the present every single day. And anyone whose experienced a panic attack can attest to the fact that you can be crippled by the feelings, physical sensations, and real time consciousness of an event that potentially happened 20 years ago. Also, as a group, people can see with great certainty and sometimes even surprising accuracy what will happen in the future. Ask any forest fire fighters who build a career on the occurrence of random uncontrollable events of nature.
Everyone has the ability to travel through time. If your goal is to keep people scared and wearing blinders made out of fear, existing second to second, its important to erase the idea of past and future from the realm of possibility. Don’t let anyone tell you that your consciousness is incapable of anything, because even theorizing the concept of anything being “impossible”, requires a person to claim they’ve analyzed EVERY aspect of what their looking at and understand EVERY nuance of human ability, which is about as cocky and ignorant a statement as saying flat out “ I know everything” which, just like diapers, is something toddlers can incorporate and look cute, but looks strange and gross when coming from an adult. Jokers are not always wearing bells and motley hats so be careful who you invest in.
To bring this relatively full circle, square or rhombus. Essentially travelling of all types is the theme buzzing through my head at 5 am be it running forward, backwards, or in place Id rather keep my feet moving than accept the alternative, which as of last night seems to be laying strapped to a table somewhere off in space getting drowned by whoever decided to water me like a fucked up orchid that only survives on fluid motion and chaos. Stay moving or drown.
Travis Muffhuggin Ryan