The Wheel Spins: a passage

I’m in the midst of writing a spiritual sci-fi/psychodrama. I’m drawing a lot of influence from Hinduism, Zen, Gnosticism and the Upanishads. It’s got psychonautics, genre-hopping and Jungian psychoanalysis. It’s like Cloud Atlas meets Valis.

Here is a passage from the book. Working title: ‘The Wheel Stops’.

(For a bit of context, this is from the chapter that takes the form of a journal. The character writing is Sophy, the daughter of a (illicitly) psychonautic psychiatrist who has suffered with psychosis (with strong sci-fi overtones) since the death of her son.

John is her father in law and current psychiatrist, Jim is her estranged husband and her father, Phil, dissapeared after she lost her son. This follows a psychedelic sci-fi chapter from the position of another character who sees Sophy in his dreams.)

“November 12th: John and Jim keep telling me I’m strong and wise, to hold out hope. I don’t feel strong or hopeful, and I have no wisdom. I am not like my Gnostic namesake, Sophia. But my God, my Father, is gone. Like the Deus Absconditus of their myth.

November 14th: These visions. The shadow, the light in my hand, they hold some truth. They hide it, obscure it, occult it from me. But the concealment implies the truth. This place/world/reality does not compute. I am not of this place.

November 20th: Sometimes, when I write, ideas appear to come from nowhere. As if they dropped into my head like rain. I get inebriated on them, giddy on the inspiration. I forget who I am, where I am. My mind wanders into the shadows. Am I the shadow at my hearth?

November 22nd: I read some Alan Watts, and he said “Lunatics frequently resemble saints”. Maybe I’m the patron saint of Lunatics. Maybe it depends on the day of the week which one I am. Later in the book, it said that Satori (“a sudden, intuitive vision”) comes coupled with an ‘overwhelming feeling of doubt’. Maybe I’m not mad. Maybe I’m becoming enlightened. Maybe I have an enlightenmental disorder.

November 23rd: Shamans would be seen as psychotic by men like John. Irrelevant, babbling madmen. Only that which goes through the ‘proper’ channels is valid. What have these ‘proper’ channels ever done for me, or the millions like me? The undulating masses of shamans labelled insane. I’d rather be mad than a one-dimensional, egotistical and shallow academic.

December 1st: John knows about the journals. Jim must have told him. I have been betrayed by every man I have ever known. John tells me I have ‘Hypergraphia’. ‘An obsessive need to write notes and diaries’, he assures me and that my ‘intense emotions and quasi-religious rants’ are indicative of my failing mental health. I wish he’d shut his mouth and open his mind. He says my theories are ‘layered illusions, moving further from truth’, that they’re ‘truisms based on errors, which are based on errors ad infinitum’. He says I’m ‘weaving a veil of illusions’. If so I’d like to throttle him with that veil. He went on (as he does, ad infinitum). I’m failing to ‘filter out all of the data I’m picking up’. This reminded me of a theory my dad had. We filter through reality with out sense of time and space. When we hallucinate, we see unfiltered reality. I’m seeing a truer picture than he ever had. But, if I AM seeing the truth; does that mean I AM an automaton. that the shadow IS there?

December 22nd: I lit a cigarette and became completely engrossed in it. I watched the flame, the curling smoke and felt the regulation of my breath. It felt like the most important thing in the universe. I can’t have a smoke without going nuts. Yet, being immersed in that moment, I felt at peace, like I’d realised something. An intuitive feeling that, like the smoke, everything is ephemeral.”

Questin

I’m questing and searching

for a way to heal the tribe

In a way that’s something more

than a witty diatribe

reproduce the trippy shit

that’s inside of my head

wear my brain on the outside

and give other people the good shit instead

cos I’ve got ways of coping with this

I know how not to make every track a diss

I know how to keep afloat, not take the piss

Show the folks at home what it is

floating in a wave from another dimension

lying on your back ignoring apprehension

letting your inner child out of detention

and infecting minds with intuitive conception

Keep it on the fly, keep in on the wing

like stevie said dontcha worry bout a thing

cos fear is the mind killer like Frank Herbert said

and there’s nothing worse than a mind that’s dead

I’m looking

and tryna find

another piece

o’ mind

you got to go out of your head

to ever live before your dead

take a little hit, take a little trip

pull yourself away from the reality drip

take a sip of soma soma this

take a dip in allah allah this

feel the universe collide with you

feel the nothingness inside of you

acid trip hop in a cranial space

take you all along to the other place

have a little taste, throw it on your face

give out all your gifts to the human race

Anti Nomos

Experiences in life

can make you jaded

Escapes from life

can leave you faded

But you’re still here folks

you survived, you made it

The wave of dragons

you’ve slayed it


Try to solve

machinations internal

Try to extinguish

fires infernal

Through thoughtful exercise

you can turn all

The black holes up here

into a wormhole


Recalibrate constantly

try to keep in tune

Recalibrate ideas

vomit that which is fed by spoon

Place the card,

read the Rune

Don’t assume

it’s all doom and gloom


When it feels like

you’re forced to swallow a sword

When it feels like

you can no longer afford

To live life

without crossing a fjord

Don’t let cost

leave life unexplored


Don’t always

retreat inside

Don’t repeatedly

run and hide

Don’t let fear

become intensified

Don’t let you

be classified


It feels like

there are no more heroes

It feels like

there are just ones and zeroes

It feels like

there are just say no’s

It’s more like

the river still flows


As above,

so below

Waves

and Undertow

Shift gears,

take it slow

You don’t have to put on

another show


Another Mask, Another Act

intellectual cataract

Allow yourself to interact

reintroduce the things you’ve lacked


When you feel inspiration running thin

forgive yourself of your sin

Then you can begin

to play the game to win


Get away from your ‘self’

for your own mental health

for some social wealth

You don’t need a mechanical elf


There’s DMT

inside your head

Released automatically

just before you’re dead

When you’re tripping

on things left unsaid

Hallucinating coulda-shoulda

-woulda-been’s instead


Grab your life with two hands

make proper stands

A-gainst the sands

pouring from time’s hands


With no time

there’s no more to fear

All is possible

in the now and here


Whilst the drop

may appear

sheer

and severe


Make one resolution

Total revolution

Create your own institution

with your own elocution


Be both

Happy and Sad

Be both

Good and Bad

Be both

Lame and Rad

Be both

Forever and Fad