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Heaven's Hammer

"Wandering In The Collectiive Unconsccious"

By: John B Lombardo Artist

For more there is a curtain linked to understanding if anything there is nothing if nothing there is everything. No sense I breathe till the last breath passes me by then alone I fly off into never never land where only the certainty of never being lives along with you. Take me with you because I am alone take me with you because I am gone on the wings of all that I ever knew I am not thrilled nor excited about anything just bits and pieces of reality a reality that I never could touch because I always lived outside the realms of anything that mankind or any kind could ever touch.

I am tired but have to force myself to keep on living. I let go every night as my sleep time prayer but keep on waking up in the morning anyway. It is all a matter of what has to be not what I want to be.

What else is new under the sun? Kevin Costner golfing at Pebble Beach looks old seems bitter. I am tired of my nothingness but it is all I have ever had. Doing so much work on the house painting fixing making it livable for what just so I can die and it will all be over anyway and none of it will matter gee that John was sure a great guy for doing all this. What the hell does any of this matter I keep thinking it does like Kevin Costner says "everyone either wants the girl or wants to save the world." It really seemed like he was ticked off when Nick Faldo asked him if they could do a movie.

Everyone wants everything and gets nothing and I keep talking in circles without a resolution or without a point. The nothingness the inability to touch anyone or anything except physically at least the smell of pussy is the only smell that lingers with me wherever I go it is something I can never forget. Even football leaves me without any painful memories because I never really felt anything. I just kept going I just keep going lingering around the fringes drifting in the reality of who it is that I really am. The deepest thrill of terminal reality is that maybe it just never ends and maybe nothing ever goes around that comes around. Life has become a cliché I feel this need to create to be positive to be cynical to be what it is I know how to be but what I know how to be is nothing...invisible from the beginning of nothing that is where I am and where I come from.

I wonder if I would die tomorrow or today if all these online things I have done will just go away like sparks thrown from a fire into the air drifting away burnt cinders of thoughts gone away never to be heard from or seen again. Probably just the cause and just the reaction that is the way it is that is the way it will be. It takes time to do all these things time a tired I am is what I am time and tired repetition amidst the black arts my soul touches the things the only things ethereal that I am capable or touching numb beyond belief always making mistakes hurtling through space at light speed deep and tangental I don't know what that means except that it gets harder and harder to fill these pages with thoughts or anything meaningful as if there is anything meaningful left in the world or universe or cosmos anyway...what a waste of time and energy lost in fixing things fixing mistakes why do I bother who cares none of it matters anyway except that it is a way to spend money and pass the time.

Chinese Guy Backporch

So what if I am insane, does anybody really give a shit. It all goes back to the matter of context. If you run out of time you run out of time. Where is the logic or reason to any of this? We are all frustrated beyond belief, there is no way out of here, it is what it is. There I have used just about every cliché imaginable and still I have said nothing. Rhythm in life gives a sense of wonder. I am all in or all out. What do I know anyway? Outside everything is the realm of everything or nothing or all that was or all that will never be. Numbness keeps spreading through my body I need a way out or I need a way in, where is the something of nothing the substance of everything?

There is just too much to comprehend, and nothing in itself is the great illusion, the great equalizer. I am insane beyond belief, I know of no other way to live and I sure as all hell don't know of anyway to die. Whenever I try to do anything these days all these mental gymnastics keep me stumbling keep me off balance keep me nervous about feat and my intrinsic knowledge of what it is I am not and my absolute knowledge of what it is I am. There is no reason to hurry I am just recording thoughts as they come to me. I cannot speak from the heart anymore because I thing my hear tis gone. I have nothing left but a basic impulse breathe in breathe out listen to your heart beat as it relates to the commonality of universal sound vibration the hum of existence of real existence of all that we are and all that we can never be.

Hell I am just jibberish! That is what I am and all that I can ever be.

Full stocking total illogic here goes the madness the echo of reality's backdrop. I can't hurt there is nothing to hurt. I am just so fucking tired I cannot think just breath and sleep. Where else can we go?

Nothing but a nosebleed built on the essence of life I am confounded sure of nothing taking deep breaths every five seconds fearing fear itself afraid of things I do not even understand, at ;east on a temporal plane anyway, the plane of this existence. One sentence at a time, that is all I am. To hell with intense emotion, to hell with logic, to hell with everything. I am sure that is where we are all going anyway, or maybe we are already there. If I seem a little negative it's because I am living at the time this is being written, 2011. at least I think I am living. I must be because my hands are moving and the words are appearing in front of me on this screen. There is just way too much hatred, anger, fear and negativity surrounding all of us, it is our security blanket. Funny thing though how sick we really are as a people.

I cannot be anything else because I am what I am and all I need to be. What else is there? From logic I fill my head with super-heated thoughts, the process of my own existence. This is what I am, what I have become. Really don't know what I will become. Nobody does anything they do not want to do. If you think otherwise you are in denial about something (don't ask me what because it is your problem not mine and I don't have time to analyze you so figure it out for yourself you goddamned fool). Most of us go where we want to go on one level or another then we face the consequences of what it is that we find when we get there. Consequences is not a bad thing it is just another word for what is. So if you believe that somebody made you do something you did not want to do then think again because it is you who got yourself into whatever it is you are into in the first place. Ultimately you did it to yourself. The responsibility lies with you and no one else.

Too much of everything and not enough of nothing we take ourselves along for the ride and ultimately get what we deserve, although we think we are entitled to better. It is really difficult to become ensnared in this whole mess. Our illusion is ourselves and I live on the same illusion as everyone else and become part of the mass hysteria when I need to go back out into the world. I guess that is the charm of my creativity: it bares the soul collectively and knocks down the walls and strips us all to the fuse bare naked without any defenses, yeah that's it I drop my defense when I am doing something like this. I live to breath and I breath to live that is the essence of what it is I do.

I just can't shake this feeling that it is all going to come crashing down. I don't know what it is or why it is but when the walls fall the ceiling crumbles. It is my nature this intuition. I see what I don't see I feel what I don't feel I know what I don't know but it cannot be this way but it is. The backyard arena making toast in the kitchen where do the impulses come from? Why do I know where do I come from what is going to change? Nothing simple I am sure only I am tired again and alone and feel only like I have company when I am only alone. I think shell-shocked is the best word to sum up the situation, miserable beyond a certain thresh hold making my way past uncertainty believing nothing going places sight unseen certain only of no facts knowing nothing of the everyday livability that I will never know. When I am alone I have all the company in the world, I sense what I sense I am in the company of silence the siren signal of lost dimensions rolling slowly past my memory.

In a lifetime there are many defining moments that come to light as quiet little preludes or thoughts that find existence of their own free will, and that mean only what they mean with no help from me or anyone else.

Topsail Beach Sunset

Thoughts or revelations that come out of no place, remnants from times past, as remnants are all we have left of whatever it is that happened to us back there.

I wish I could remember a few, but most if not all have become a part of the memory from wence they came.

If you are going to write about anything, or create anything of any substance, there has to be some sort of perspective or connection with the past, either your past or the collective past. I have this well-spring or explosion waiting to burst forth. My ties with the creative unconscious are starting to surface, push so hard against my insides that it hurts. the creative unconscious, the collective unconscious, the mind of minds the soul of souls the place of place the well of creativity of the well of creativity. Sorry if this does not sound familiar, but it is just the way it is. You know, it is what it is.

This internet is a powerful thing. I am in awe of the power of the electric impulse made reality. In the nano second that it takes for a message to travel across space and time from one outlet or computer to another. It is inspiring to think of the things that we do now, and scary to think of how totally dependent we are on the power of magnetism and electricity.

Without electricity we cease to function. Our entire world community will fall apart, we will be forced to once again become local. We have lost touch with our humanity and have become a product of the impersonality of wonder that surrounds and envelopes us all every second of every day, whether you are aware of it or not.

That is disturbing, this living in the moment without a sense of what has gone down before us.

I hurt and cry want to cry for the sadness of a pain filled existence. Going off in a wrong direction I lose energy and begin to begin to get older. Feeling old lost amidst the trees that bear no fruit I run through too many wild places and forget to tie my shoes. I can't help but think of what would have gone down if I went in one direction or another instead of going where it was I went. I have always been pulled by energy taken to where it is I am going and bounced away by negative energy from the places that I did not want to pursue. My head hurts injured neck numb feet swollen knee can hardly walk sometimes I fear the fears that go along with not being able to function anymore.

Owasco Sunrise

All of a sudden like right now a certain calm starts to well from inside me as I enter that place that allows me to find release, total release of mind body and soul, a profound awareness, the place of places that transcends the physical that dimension that takes me without condition and gives my life whatever meaning that it deserves. The dimension of all dimensions filled with the purity and innocence of true creativity unadulterated by the ramifications of ego gone crazy those conditions that fill the streets and dimensions that we occupy on a daily basis.

Getting back to transcendence like a calm awareness of just putting these words down on the electrical chalkboard of no where born out of some other dimension. Dimensions are good things carried by themselves to places we cannot remember but places we will all go or have been at one time or another. I am filled with the dreams of not being able to dream. Dreams are filled with elusive content juggled around without our knowledge without our consent like a train gone out of control without any place to go.

Can I help you? Will you go away? Where is it you are going? It is too hard for me to write about things that have happened to me, about my experiences, because they really do not mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Where I have been or where I am going only have meaning in the context of what gets put on these electrical pages, simple black pixels on a white background that allow me to find the freedom, calm, satisfaction, and meaning so that I can move into the next awareness, the next dimension above this physicality of earthbound awareness. This is really all that matters and without it I cannot exist. I can live many different lives as I go about my daily business, like Don Juan of Castaneda fame. Do what you have to do to get by but still be open and aware to the intersection of multiple dimensions, places you go in reality, not subject to the confines of our self-created physical illusions. these are the places I call home, places I need to be in order to survive. If my spirit is choked and smothered I will die. It is not the words or images that matter it is the being there. the contact with other selves of the one self that I just carry around to be able to able to make contact with this electrical medium of pen and paper generated from energy. It never really did matter what I said or how I said it; what was always important is that I made the effort to get to those special places tat hold the keys to constructive energy so contrary to the destructive energy so prevalent in our ego gone made self created mythicality and self-need, the cesspool of our loneliness filled with need oriented and conditional logic, our place we call home, we call ourselves, we call what is it we are.

As I run down this road not weighted by anything but the lightness of the power of what it is I am doing, there is no need to be strong anymore, because I am strong by nature. What I say or do not say does not matter because it will all be inherent in the fact that it will say what it needs to say by itself. Behind the curtain I find my truth, the curtain is swept aside and I am where and what I need to be.

I keep seeing this image in my brain of a time on the 10th green in a hazy, blurred sunlight as I settled over an 18 inch put. the image is imbedded in my consciousness. I was really playing great golf then and was kind of on automatic pilot. The awareness came over me that if I missed the put something was going to change, so as I drew the putter back I was a little distracted from the zone I was in and hit the ball a little off center and the ball spun out of the cup for a missed putt and a bogey. As I reached into the hole to get my ball, actually as the ball passed the level of the ground when I took it out of the hole, I stood up and began to walk to the next tee, but I was in a new place a kind of blurred reality that was not familiar to me, like I was walking through a blurred fog but still filled with the clarity of a bright sunny day, only the light was blurry. My golf game slowly started to go south, got worse, a condition that lsted for many years. maybe this was someplace I needed to be, someplace I needed to go. Well obviously it was because I allowed my awareness to shift slightly and there I was in an entirely new dimension.

From where I was to where I am going never sense for where are now? Today born of liquid I fill myself with nothing other than energy flowing from places I cannot begin to understand. I am current a current the current glowing electrical with nothing to say but what I am saying dreaming of a place I saw once before. A little Chinaman looking out the backdoor of a wooden cabin someplace way out in the woods surrounded by trees fall rustic bright inside this cabin it leads me to a place I know I have been before. I don't know where it is but it really does not matter since I am going there anyway. Taking my leave with excitement carrying my being to the other side of nowhere. Born again today or tomorrow filtered against a brilliant sunlight images fly by at light speed carrying me away on some fictitious cloud brought by a nebulae of existence spinning aimlessly at the dawn of something that has never been before, that has not been born into this or any other existence.

Vision From The Other Side


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