Folderol And Hadicol

Nobody argues much with what's actually possible for them. I'm figuring that's because of Sartre's mention of a species-wide flaw in homo sapiens that prevents them from realizing what's possible for them in real ti-me. That's one of the most difficult lessons I learned from my twenty year stint in reading people's palms.

People reacted to what i told them about themselves while I was holding hands with them. While I was sometimes caressing their hands. Man, woman, or child. Sometimes I would lift their hands to my lips and kiss them as if in awestruck adulation. Man, woman, or child.

Never. Not once. Not one single incident or event of my making love to their hands in front of witnesses, and their own people (husbands, wives, children, parents, best friends, worst enemies) elicited even one comment that what I did was improper either pro or con. That constantly shocked me. It was if It was my right to do that, and everybody accepted it.

My right? Yes. In context, it seemed natural enough. At first, when I reflected on what I'd done later, instead of it causing a problem, it created a completely different level of intimacy that allowed them to offer feedback to what I channeled. Nobody in their right mind would smooch a fundamentalist Christian's wife's hand in front of her husband, children, and significant others unless they understood what that meant, they probably just thought I was a retard. I am.

Learning how to read palms sometimes meant that I was to learn from my own mistakes. Sometimes I got over the top in boldness, and paid the price; and sometimes I didn't go far enough for our encounter to possess sig-nif-i-can't-ce. There were times I made mistakes in significance from which the resulting humiliation was almost more than I could bear. I literally left that town, and state, and sometime the whole country to get far enough away to live with what was left. I've been cut down to size so many times it's a wonder there's anything left to divide and conquer. But, I kept doing it. I couldn't resist. I couldn't believe what I heard myself tell people. Apparently everything and anything. I never got touched in retribution for anything I said while reading palms. Yes, I can say all I want to that nobody knows, but that's not quite right. I know, but that's what all this has amounted to. My life has been one sequence to the next of finding out and discovering the truth of things, but all I ever found out was that I already knew. What a drag, man. All that self-generated torture for naught.

From the time I got here in my pearl-like form I have made myself into and abandoned as not the thing-in-itself everything possible. I have BEEN all the forms and life-like entities I created myself into and got disappointed again in. No matter what I've done or what form of life or rock or mineral or vegetable I've ever made myself into through mimicry of the Other, I still can't be-co-me a real boy.

I think I started reading palms in order to phyically touch as many other homo sapiens as I could without lasting social commitment. I would not allow myself to be painted in a corner with my own lies. Well, only a couple of times when I was much younger, but still as foolish. I couldn't do exclusivity with another human being no matter how many times I tried. That's the same thing, isn't it? Trying to have an exclusive, monogamous relationship where I wasn't supposed to hold hands with strangers, and being a docetic spirit trying to be a real boy seem equivalent.

That docetic spirit I carry on about is what dreamed up who-I-think-I-am in it's attempt to become it's own creation. Pygmalion. My Fair Lady. Can the street urchin Eliza pass herself off as real aristocracy by learning all the tricks of the trade before she's ever seen Paree? Born with a gift or struggled for as an art? Amadeus. Gnosis is a gift that is useful for developing a hoity toity level of art. Rainman.

I've written lots of times. Only the docetic spirit can bestow the gift of gnosis. The priest class simply can't do that. Priests who have experienced gnosis can, but conversion of this sort is not tantamount to the bestowal of gnosis bestowed by an apple. Ka, the world serpent, is only present as a protector and a witness to the bestowal of gnosis by the spirit. It allowed Gautama to point to the ground to indicate that he had a right to be here. It allowed Krishna to drive Arjuna's chariot in order to allow him to shoot his own kinsmen to claim his own identity, as if to say, I have a right to be here.

The bestowal of gnosis by the docetic spirit is the Western religion's way of saying: I have a right to be here. I have been all the things of the earth. I have been all the phantasmagoric images (the ghosts of my past lifes). I owe them nothing. I have a right to be here as whoever-I-wanna-think-I-am-is.

I make this crap up to amuse myself, you know. It was never intended from the time I sat down to write this morning to be a truthful account of anything. Much less physically possible in some cases. It's not dangerous for you to read it unless you make it into something I never intended.

Time has taught me that there is absolutely nothing I can do about what a potential reader will make my jackleg non-sense into, for their reasons. Look at what people say the words in the Bible or the Koran mean. They act like their latest interpretation is God's own truth, and will cut yo' haid off if you disagree with them.

I won't cut your head off if you disagree with me. I don't even wanna know. For God's sake don't argue with me about my lies in public. People won't understand why you would bother, and think you're just as crazy as I am. That's why I don't allow comments here. I'm just playing around with familiar old words in public to see where they'll lead me. I'm not about to defend this folderol I make up just for fun, because you're fool enough to take me serious.