RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Wednesday, June 29

45s on 33 – #69: “Get Back Baby”

A main issue with In Real Life is its refusal to acknowledge Other Realm impact on daily existence. Every baby is born not necessarily the complete clean slate we assume with scientifically-validated mind. It’s easy for you, the reader of this, to comprehend the time tunnels of this recollection of events as futuristic Other Realms, and you likely assume this is from an imagination of reality that I – in this physical existence – own somehow. But past Other Realms weight fairly heavily, on me, on all of us. Perhaps some have had relatively smooth Other Realm tunnels from their past burrow into their present – I cannot make that assumption, but I know plenty of people trying not to be broken by these unexplainable Other Realms, not possessed in any “I created this” way whatsoever.

This goes back to self-medication again. Folks like this (like me) self-medicate to become functional In Real Life (as in “functional alcoholic”). Often times the medication we choose though might get too strong as we attempt to be functional in Other Realms existence that we lose functionality In Real Life. Then we are judged as negative participants In Real Life, generally jailed, at the very least prohibited. Even in the realm of therapeutic care, this ends up crossing over into official-medicated (not by self). This does nothing to address the Other Realm realities, and only works to make us functional In Real Life.

I am struck by the somewhat opposing forces of being functional versus actually healing. Is the goal to be functional, or heal? And if it’s only to function, what are we functioning for? When the Heart Stars start floating around me, when I am home at the Bird Tribe Sanctuary compound, indulging in Other Realms exploration, it seems observationally to be as close to healing from Other Realms from the past as I get. But these are only my observations. The problem becomes a conflict of time, in that a majority of my daily allotment of actual existence if dedicated to being functional, not healing. Thus healing is squeezed in around the edges of function. If too much trauma affects an individual, they then become “dysfunctional”, or unable to function. They are, in that moment, worthless to the functioning system. And it seems the goal is to get them functioning first, without healing a secondary objective.

This seems completely fucked up to me. I am sitting at the far back picnic table in my yard, contemplating the time tunnels, contemplating what Heart Stars of inspiration mean to me, what they mean to Rey-Rey, and wondering how this all relates to the future version of both of us that is somehow fucking that up. Rey-Rey and me are healing in our different ways, recovering from the same shared time tunnels of the past, in our fragmented tendrils of the multiverse. That’s not functional to any future financial benefit – it’s just growth, no different than a vine growing up a wall or tree aging some fresh roots off-shooting from the thick ones already holding dirt tight.

When I saw that future me, writing in what appeared to be a successful manner, that definition of success was financial. He was a functional writer, existing as that entity. But very little economically-rewarded writing is done for healing purposes, because there’s no coin in healing. There is coin, however, in perpetually functioning, always working, buying, consuming, exchanging abstractions of wealth. Most of the writing that succeeds in accumulating these abstractions of wealth is a momentary escape from function’s mundane existence, a complete and total distraction. Rarely does it address any healing, on individual or massive scale.

I don’t know, this chapter ain’t really got nothing happening, other than me sitting at the picnic table contemplating the purpose of all this. Rey-Rey and me are gonna have to go back in the time tunnels, and address whatever the fuck it was Ellabell was talking about with regards to the future version of us fucking up the main Heart Star transmission, dissipating those moments of creativity into darkness. I guess I’m feeling existential as fuck today though, and meditating on the differences between functioning and healing, and wondering if it’s enough to just function. I mean, is that lowering the goal? Is that accepting a lesser reward to benefit somebody other than yourself? I don’t know. But I hope the fucking Space Espanol comes out the jukebox, because I could use a new adventure to distract me from functioning far too far into my head, when I’d rather be burrowing into my heart, trying to better connect past Other Realms with the present and those future ones, let that shit heal together a little (or a lot).

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