By Brendan Heard
The only way to distract ourselves from the futureless trap we have routined ourselves into, is to catch ourselves in another trap. To plan and lay for ourselves a stealthy ambush, a dragnet laid by our subconscious (our true-seeing dreaming-selves) to ensnare our wayward daylight waking-selves. The plan must be enacted on instinct and without alerting our conscious robotic routines, as our daywalking selves will not accept any forthright pragmatism, or non-emotional evidence of causality, or anything that interrupts routine. The conscious must be walked, without alerting them to imminent change or danger, into their own future-survival. Our waking selves are easily frightened, little sons of bitches, and they are not to be trusted either, they will do anything to avoid interference with their social reality-illusion. Thus these pathetic unimaginative rabbits, this unreal mirror image of us, will never trade a flawed immediate solution for a better long-term one. Therefore we, the subconscious, must fool them.
To break their fish-hooked shopping-mall-death-march requires an investment of time in the impractical and esoteric. The dream-self can only suggest, only point to symbols, only guide the material daywalker with artful implication and mythic reference. For the conscious self is trained to work against anything outside the laws of familiarity. Yet they are easily fooled, easily manipulated; the mechanics of the day-routine are forced by necessity or incentive. Which means we can trick them with a map and a route with symbol markers, symbols and superficial reference being that which the plague the daywalker, and cause reaction behind their eyes, and incentivises the unimaginable: an alteration in routine.
If we, the truer self, the original self, the innocent dream-state, don’t symbolically lead these rabbits, our conscious selves will routine us both into slavery. They will safety-law us until we are chained at the neck to the ground, face-down on cold cement, next to a flowing river of rubbish. They do not know how to break a power-flow, or a routine-current which flows about an immovable distribution route of commerce-power. Everything in their world bends before that. When you are awake, and busy, and in a mode of necessity, you move with the well-worn cart tracks.
The forest path we construct must be hidden, we cannot let our waking selves know that this pleasant way is an escape hatch to a parallel reality. One that is there, and has always been there, something which was formerly considered the real reality. This path must be non-commercial, it must not morph into a ‘business’. That does not mean it is anti-technological, or that it does not exist ‘online’, though even if online, or perhaps especially so, if it is recognized by the conscious, they will say ‘ah, our old enemy, our childish selves, our dreaming minds, are out to get us again.’ And it will be attacked (destroyed outright or commercialized).
I cannot say anything more about this at present.
(art by Paul Lehr)