Abwoon 

Jack Kerouac Speed writing and how I got that name wrong. 
Firstly. I apologize for getting the gentleman who wrote ‘Psychopath Free’ name wrong if I did. I meant no disrespect. I won’t go verify it. Certain things. I won’t do because they trigger me. Or could. That might happen if I go back to see that old message. No thanks. I think I said his name got changed to Peace but it could have been Free. 
I remember seeing that and as I said on one level it spooked me to the bone but I could totally understand wanting to become nameless after this. Or not nameless but attach yourself to a name that’s just totally universal. I really get it. I have my version of it. I thought of it as my fighting name. I have a huge tattoo of it in a rather funny place. The name is Abwoon. 

What’s that mean? I don’t even really know. On a book level. I know on a soul level what it means to me. For one it’s an in joke between me and God. You see it’s tattooed on my body where normal people tattoo what I think is scientifically know as the tramp stamp region. 

This makes me laugh typing it. But I can assure you the tattoo was quite painful. It’s not a tramp stamp for God per say as it is part of just the fact that my entire back is tattooed. But it’s big and bold and in that region. 

Also on my back is a freaky Jesus. But more on that later. That’s enough for now. Abwoon means our father in Aramaic I believe. I think it’s said to be the most powerful of words. It essentially is the entire Lord’s Prayer in one word. I got in the habit of tattooing powerful words on me after I read the hidden mesaage in water about how words directly affected the water they were attatched to which you could see thru the crystals they would make when near frozen. I figured as I was getting tattooed anyway for reasons at once ancient and obscene. I figured I might as well put one and one together and remember that I’m mostly made up of water myself and sure the book could be a hoax but why not think of it as some kinda spiritual insurance policy. I think it’s actually working out. I stopped regretting it along time ago. And now I’m starting to like it. Go figure.  
Jack Kerouac I forgot used not only tape and tying paper he used naughty stuff too. That’s right kids. Just say no. For me just saying no to that is easy as hell. Oh my god. I’m not the first to escape that death grip and feel the way I do about it. I’ve talked to other people who escaped Speed and the inevitable xannax cocktail half of america is on. 

For me I tried in that Kerouac way too. I mean Speed has a great history with the arts. There’s much to be said about what it brought out of people and to the culture at large. I mean Warhol for instance along with Dylan. The beats. 

The list is endless. Read that new book called Blitzed about how Speed took root in Nazi Germany with a little pill funnily enough called pervitol. 
(Side note. I recognize that I could be repeating content. That’s ok. Look how many poems Charles Bukowski wrote about going to the horse track. And plus I called the blog the echo maze. So it can echo.) 
But with me. Speed never did much of anything but drive me down into a chaotic wind of confusion. That web just looks like pure pain to me now. 
Truman Capote said “that’s not writing its typing ” when he read Kerouac s on the road. Hard to know if he really felt that or was just taking a brilliant cheap shot. Personally I think on the road is a long way from typing and I’m not here to judge how any other writer gets to where they need to go to open that flow. But , tho I tried, I never found my flow there. I just got broken there. Like really broken there. Like I ain’t never going back there. 
This flow I’m in now was built up too. It’s coming out fast because it’s been a long time coming. I understand it’s hard to grasp but then it’s just the universe. 
And we’re all just astronauts. 
Sometimes bumping glass helmets 
As we float to the next pod. And the next pod after that. 
“Yo gym teach. You’re starting to depress everyone. Can you lighten it up a little bit?”
“You’re right sorry”
What I meant to say is

My flow built up to this and then shocked me too. But it’s weird to just say the truth out loud. Especially one that brutal. But once you say it. You can’t take it back. And the fact remains. It ain’t nothing but the truth. So you just put all your money down on it setting you free. 
That’s the way this flow opened in me. 

I guess the bet paid off. At least if we measure it in terms of typing or writing or whatever you’d be inclined to call this. 
Before I was writing this much. I was boxing this much. To the point that music called me back to this kind of creative work. I couldn’t even get out 200 crappy words which was my goal everyday. Now looking at that I think. We should aim higher. Maybe how low I was aiming was effecting my resolve. But truthfully I was blocked by toxic shame. That’s what it does at it’s core. It blocks. Your voice. It blocks your essence. It blocks your choice in many things and you never even realize. So hard wired is the program of its routines so entrenched is it in your identity. So protective are you of its place in your life which you reassure it of time and time again with that little mistake you keep making and feeling guilty for on purpose. 
The hard part is seeing how the people you trusted most are showing you just how important it is for them for you to remain their shame based dumping grounds. And seeing how in that context, maybe they’d even have a vested interest in keeping you afraid and ashamed. Perhaps those little harmless insults aren’t as harmless as you think. Cause maybe that’s just one symptom of other behaviors going on geared to control you that you can’t perceive. That’s how this works. You’re getting trauma bonded over and over again. You truly are quite helpless in the equation. 

One Comment on “Abwoon 

  1. I have to agree with your opinion on the term ‘gaslighting’. I was mixing my metaphors when I’ve used it. If you wanna talk gas, there’s the fact that people are putting a happy face sticker over their gas gauge. No, I’m good! When they’re running on empty. Or, when your pretty, or tall with a strong back or any other outward appearance of what you should be grateful for and just suck the rest of it up. Your good, man, what have you got to worry about.
    I didn’t mean to diminish your pain by suggesting you get over it. I can see that you have been dealing in the realm of true evil. I, on the other hand have only had a succession of sociopaths whose tactics I knew how to maneuver around from prior experience. The mother thing is the shocker. Then you go oh fuck the aunt too. Which is why Alfred Hitchcock is relevant. For a daughter the loyalty runs so deep that you will become the pathological liar you never wanted to be just to protect her. Lord help the friend who says anything against mama.
    Marianne Williamson says, we always have the choice to give what we didn’t receive. I don’t equate that with pay it forward, like you scratch my back. It’s just a way to allow spirit to enter into relationship, so the future becomes more, contains more light.
    The way people are responding to you and their level of understanding is in direct ratio with this principle. How much understanding they feel people have given to them. So you’re in essence asking people for compassion. Because that is what is required to conquer evil. Empathy won’t get the job done. I know because that’s how I approached your blog. Oh yeah, I’ve bee there. But it is my constant sadness, and yes the leaking eyes as I walk that asked me to access a deeper feeling of understanding. Understanding that there is always the choice to be just that, understanding or not. You have faced what I dare say many have not survived or lived to tell about. We usually just hear of the aftermath.
    Well practice your multiplication tables people, because we don’t die we multiply. The measuring stick is only to point at the clock. Like you said, the jig is up. There is so much light being flooded in, you might be in a tunnel now and then, but I saw the future, when I hung upside down at my nieces gym full of children. It was better than LSD at a grateful dead show, the energy bouncing off the walls. The artists showing us a way out of the Neanderthal-like denial of emotions you see everywhere.
    You are an artist. You know how to tap into the receptive mode. I like the metaphor of the hose. There is no source of evil, just people with a kink in the hose, not allowing the good in. This evil woman who deliberately stood on your hose, but can not now keep you from removing the kink. You’ve got the methods. You know what to do.
    People have tried to rob me of my feminine, I’m reclaiming it. You are reclaiming your masculine, it’s fire, I don’t fear it and neither should you. It WILL destroy what is no longer serving you, but not the love you have cultivated. For love is the most powerful force in the universe. You are a natural born lover. Remain in the light and it will meet you at every turn. My prayers are with you.

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