Musings of a Psychedelic Inch-Worm Ch. 2 The Grid

Musings of a Psychedelic Inch-Worm Ch. 2 The Grid

Can you see it?” asked the Raven. “Can you see the grid, inch-worm?”
“I can!” replied the inch-worm, happily. “I can actually see it! I can see yours and I can see what it looks like to a person with my brain too!”

The Raven sighed as she looked up at the stars knowing that she finally had someone who saw what she saw. Someone she would have always.

Hello mah people! (a greeting I have adopted since accidentally mis-gendering a trans-boy [a girl transitioning to a boy] oops) It’s been a second, but I’ve been on a journey…or sorts. Well, like, actually maybe also literally too. Those drives man…palm springs is far…what a year, huh? Yo…it’s only May…

I find it positively laughable, albiet, unfortunate the amount of personalities that seem to connect for a fleeting of a second until one, the other, or both realize that it wants nothing to do AT ALL with the other. The rub, as it turns out, is being able to identify that this soul or that soul was brought into a life for a reason and should not be dwelt upon as one would fawn over a long-passed poor decision (a regret, to the layman). (On a parenthetically-theological note, I have trouble believing in a an all powerful entity, just as I’m struggling with my own concept of time and death and the meaning of it all. whotheactualfuck knows). The struggle with this belief does not negate the fact that I believe that things happen for a reason…and I have since discovered that reason…I’m fairly positive. (The Raven I speak of in the prologue has a much better grip on this side of reality than my abstract mind has patience for, for it was she that was first made aware of this concept).

The concept that I speak of is referred to as The Grid.

Cool thing is, this is an actual thing. It’s worth the research. I haven’t researched it entirely because, as it turns out,  it kinda has everything to do with the FUCKING ALGORITHM THAT HOLDS THE FABRIC OF THE UNIVERSE TOGETHER…numbers and shit. My Raven has discovered that she is exceptionally good with numbers. The science of things fascinates her. Which is fortunate because the art of things fascinates me. It’s not that one is more important or better than the other (there’s a children’s novel called The Phantom Tollbooth…read that shit) it’s that each of the two have to recognize that the universe is comprised of both and flourishes when both coexist.

I’ve tripped a couple times since the very first and each has been significant in its own rite. I’ve discovered that the two different psychedelics I’ve indulged in (‘fucked with’ as the kids might say) show me different parts of myself. Parts that I have come (and am still working with) to love. (Not really relevant to the point of the post, but stay with me)
The first time, (See Musings of a psychedelic inch-worm part one) my Raven experienced a different level of discovery than I did, and now, she sees it each time we trip. The most recent couple of times I’ve spent some time catching up but this last time, I actually SAW (like with my fuckin’ eyes) what it was that she was talking about the first time. A grid.

Like an actual, mathematical grid. Something the engineers would work with on paper. HOWEVER this grid (as far as I know) has two different forms. It is different to different mind-sets. IPSO FACTO (or whatthefuckever) there are two (2) kinds of people in the world (usually) NUMBERS people and WORDS people. This is not to say that there are only numbers and words in the world, the world (and the fuckin’ universe for that matter) is a myriad of beautiful things pieced together to create whatever this is that we’re living in. But what I’m saying is that there are people who have an affinity for creative part of life and people who have an affinity for the scientific part of life.

Traditionally (or as I’ve come to find [the fuck do I know])
Words = Emotional
Science = Logical

I’ve had a chance to think (as one is prone to do) and I’ve discovered that my above assertion is kinda actually true. Think about all the egotistical douchesnozzles that take offense to things a person says to them. I mean, you can’t really assault a person’s ego through quantum physics or even algebra for that matter (but you can give an English major an anxiety attack by telling him to pass a statistics test)
The point is, that yes, I feel the “WORDS” people have a tendency towards the emotional side and the “NUMBERS” people have a tendency towards the logical side. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY that either is confined to those ideals. My Raven is a numbers girl and she is one of the most empathetic people I know. Whereas, I have the ability to flip my empathy off (like a fuckin’ switch, it’s pretty nice, but also makes me feel like a crazy person sometimes.

The aftermath of the workings that my brain takes part in has led me to these revolutionary (embellished?) conclusions about myself and the world around me. Pretty awesome stuff. But, wait, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah, THE MUTHERFUCKIN ALGORITHM THAT HOLDS THE FABRIC OF THE UNIVERSE TOGETHER.
The Grid…as it were.
My Raven sees it. I see it. But only when my mind is amplified on psychedelics. My Raven actually has seen it after a trip (incredible if I do say) Her grid is perfect, perfect lines, up and down, left to right, proportionally immaculate, like something one could use to build shit.
My grid is, as recently discovered, like abstract brush strokes. Something like calligraphy, or if someone was painting the tranquil surface of the ocean.  As if one creator (Numbers) created something for the science people and another creator (or the same, who the fuck knows, but Words) created something for the artsy people. Both are needed. Both balance the fabric of the universe.
And both need to use their gifts to upload their discoveries, inventions, creations, theories ONTO the grid for others to tap into later. We need to. We don’t have a choice.

That’s what I got for you now,
Until the next time you fuckin’ Beautiful, Wild people



Pre-Pre Interlude-Interlude (I think it’s called an intermission)

Pre-Pre Interlude-Interlude (I think it’s called an intermission)

My beautiful fucking people. I’ve discovered something. Something that might change the muthafuckin’ ballgame. I’m going to launch a Patreon. Somewhere you can scope my stuff and somewhere I can get paid to keep making it. AND now somewhere I can send you my Art as a thank you for supporting my artistic endeavors.

If there is anything in this world I FUCKING hate…it’s money and asking people for it.
conversely (contrariwise)
If there is anything on this earth that I LOVE and will continue to LOVE and will keep loving until it kills me. It’s art. Muthafuckin’ art. Dancing, Music, Painting, Drawing, and Storytelling.

Which is why I am going to launch a Patreon. Combining the things I LOVE and HATE to create this weird balance of Light and Dark to support the only thing on this world I was put to do. Fuckin’ create shit. (There has been a disturbance in the force for some time now…a balance had been lost…and now was fuckin’ found…or whatthefuckever)

Creative people have been using this site for a few years now and have actually been able to support themselves through their art by doing so.

I’m planning for a slow start. BUT this will not deter me from putting my shit ON THE FUCKING GRID (that concept will be explored upon in the next post, btw, I just had to get this off my chest and make an announcement {Also also finishing a piece of writing [something I haven’t done for a minute] is very therapeutic, also within this exact realm…or whatever}
I think that’s it. This means I’ll be on Tweeter more (*some voice in the background* wait…wait, what? it’s it’s called tweet…tweet? Twitter? gawd that’s fuckin’ stupid) Twitter, excuse me, I’ll be tweeting on Twitter MEANING I’ll be using my twitter handle which is my stage/pen name…wait for it..
Killian C. Wolfe…how cool is that? I came up with it myself…mostly
Once I build my page thoroughly and completely, I will make anotheranother announcement. Put that muthahfuckin internet to work for me.

til then,
stay fuckin’ wild, beautiful people,