And then I waited for what I
wanted to know
And when I did not receive what
I felt was my due
I simply just did that which I could
I created it.

Now I know what this means.

Thank you.

Now I know what my next project should be. I need to pull myself together.

Help me, watch me, or stand aside.

Time shifted again, moving in rings rippling out, catching things in its swirl. I think I stepped off the path to look at something, but, like in the hotel, I can’t see the way back. A darkness inks into the cracks and everything starts echoing. Every face is just a variation of 30 base faces, endlessly reused. The songs know the secret and the songs are telling everyone.

The feeling is like the feeling is like is like the wings just explode like a drag chute in the wind of time. Ironic that the wings are protection, something to slow me down because I am always flying. Slinky sine wave of senses spirals sideways vibrate stop collapse together like cymbals like symbols like something I think he’s in love with her.

Watched The Fountain in glorious HD. I saw so many more connections this time around. Like following the threads of an intricate tapestry. My experience of reality is much like this film. I’m wired to experience it completely.

1. The Fountain
2. There Will Be Blood
3. Batman Begins
4. Ghostbusters
5. Barton Fink
6. Old Boy
7. Iron Man
8. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
9. District B-13
10. Cradle Will Rock

I did not want to be categorized, pinned like a butterfly, labelled in a jar. But there was such a resonance, such a come hither, such a sense that I might find my people, that I had to go. I warned them of my reluctance, of my resistance to woo-woo bullshit (even as I craved it in my heart, even as I *knew* the things I knew). I wanted to be disqualified somehow, to fail their checklist. I want to belong, but on my own terms, ineffable even to me.

I joined their circle. I looked at the patterns. I closed my eyes and went inward. The narrator described the things I saw, too slow as my mind is nimble. Shocking to learn that everything has a name, each waveform, each transition, a chakra spinning at every gateway. I did not have a use for these words. An artist paints without naming every color. The narrator was almost scientific in his precision, enabling failsafes, gesturing towards spinning discs of code as though we were on a tour of the astral plane.

The gift I received was that everything had been accounted for. Someone else was curator of this knowledge and I no longer needed to worry about it. I went in search of the Like Mind and found that scholars had been recording all these silver spools for decades.

I could just go and be.

Some might call this a return to form. Some may see that the circle is a cross-section of an aetheric arrow. But now we shall exchange authorship, sidestepping into a parallel dream. Those of you here for the peanuts can get off at the next exit. Only existential bread and circus now.

When working on a puzzle, there comes a time when one must stop calling it that because it has turned into a picture. You can feel the scarred edges of each piece, yes, but there is no denying that what you behold is more than the sum of its parts. So it is useless to speak of a process, to account for vectors of trauma and ecstasy, to endlessly explain to the fascinated faces. When that last grain of sand crashes into the lower bell of the hourglass, well… one knows just the sort of beast they’ve become.

I have restored a poem which I had removed last year (or perhaps the year before). It is about four years old now. Unfortunately, it is a true story.

On Decemeber 31st, 2005, I had this to say:

“I don’t make new year’s resolutions. I just like to believe in things enough to make them happen. So this year I think I’ll publish a game and fall in love and be more still and be more me.”

All that happened in 2007 instead of 2006.

This year I would like to expand upon those concepts and turn them loose once again: “I’d like my game to grow, for someone to fall in love with me, and to be one me.”

Let’s see if that works out better.

Many of you already know this, but perhaps as a kind of secret. I’ve made a commitment to being fully self-expressive and I’ve come to realize that being secretive is actually causing more difficulties than the problems I am supposedly sparing people from. Also, if I act like there is a problem or I am uncomfortable with who I am, that puts a kind of energy out there that I don’t really want. [read more… ]

Yesterday I did something pretty brave. I came out of the closet, so to speak, in front of a room full of almost strangers.

And I was totally okay with it.

And the world didn’t end.

And if you haven’t been paying attention to the code words I use in the message tags, then now is the time to start.