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Here is the ultimate dilemma.
From time to time I can infuse my body with the truth, as mystics
see it, illuminated by sexual energy which has been redirected one
neuron cluster at a time (a roughly twenty-second process) through
a pathway close to the right side back of my neck by the part of
me that dreams at night. In short, because of this cumulative rearrangement
of neurons in myself (into alternate pathways), I have symbolic
visions. It is a condition I have gestated, nourished and protected
through decades of hard work (since about May of 1972) in the presence
of a flesh-and-blood teacher. However, ... I cannot test my
perceptions of electromagnetic reality (clairvoyance, magic, and
the like) directly because the part of me that is capable of critical
analysis is not poetic enough (it's actually downright fucking flat!)
and therefore not allowed to use those same pathways! As a matter
of fact, there are only three parts of me that are allowed through
the dream gates: (a.) the part of me that likes to play; (b.) the
part of me that wishes to live; (c.) the part of me that likes
to make wishes come true; (d.) and the part of me that still
has to piss and shit, in a roughly civilized manner, somewhere near
the toilet. Oops! That's not three
parts, it's four!
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