The following is authentic thoughtless writing. If it freaks you out, too bad. Don't hold the author responsible for anything written here unless you're willing to display your subconscious too.

Sometimes when the world gets sort of funny then the things I think start to get a bit jumbled together and make very little snense. I don't know entirely what it is that I'm writing here. It's experimental. that's what I'm saying. Going on the very low waves eminated by my brain. Letting the creaking of the chair interfere with my thoughts. Rocking back and forth like a kid with autism. Making numerous typing errors but not caring because my eyes are closed and My head is getting closer and closer t the keyboard. I wonder when it will touch. I wonder if this will work. You know they say all sorts of crazy things about the subconscious,.Clearly I hacen't found it yet vause I'm still thiking as I write, but it's here. In some degree. I can feel it. No restraint. I'm just letting it flow baby. This is how writing is meant to be. Maybe it's not supposed to be this ugly, but this is how it should be. Right now I wonder if this will be a success. I mean.... iut's my subconscious. What do I know about it. Hell.. is this even going to be recognizable when I look up? Will I one day be able to type well neough and think fast and quietly enough to do this right? Will I be able to let my subconscious truly take over? I don't know. What I do know is that There are lies in our consciousness. Everhwere. And the only way to penetrate it. The only way to get past it is through subconsciousness. To find your dreams whislt you are awake. To think, To dream.

Jesus Cristo I don't know how many mistakes I made up there. It's scary. I'm still goin on though, head down, eyes closed, brain functioning at minimal efficiency. Well... by that I mean that it's not thinking. It's blank. Anything that it thinks is eimmediately destoroyed. It gets typed here. As fast as my fingers can spuit it out. Not fast enough, though. It gets corrupted. It's not perfect. That's why I must [practrice This that's whis must be the first of many I feel almost like I;m doing some sort of crazy ritual or playing the painos like one of those black dudes who are blind whose names I can't rmemember... Ray Chaeles! Got it! That's one. Like him. I'm Ray Charles. I can't see what I'm doing woth shit, but I'm doing it anyway. Maybe thjere a sort of impromptu reality that comes with that--just not literally seeing. I have to transcend that, though. i must go beyond it. I must not SEE. You know? I muist be able to do do this without thought. No thought. None. Zero. Zip. Nada.

I haven't even scratched the surgce. I feel it. I feel my heart. There are things in there. I will find them. I don't know if it's anything special or new--maybe not. But in there there's more. Maybe more substance, maybe more avstraction. Who knows.? We use only 10 percent of our brains thought, right? Well maybe this can help me unlock the rest. Silly, sure. But come on. Can you think of anything better?

Anyways, I'm done now. I'm going to bring myself back to consciousness. And... now, Cantay! Open your eyes! See what weirdness you've created!



Well. That was something interesting.