Johanna Tukiainen

loving life is easy when one is born to move spatially, i.e. to navigate. inside my head I can see many great things, like reconstructions of space to move in, zoom in. I can ascend high from the sky and see where I have been and find the exact square meters once owned. in dreams I am often mystified by the scenery presented by my graphics processor.

on another continent I once sneaked out from the american museum of natural history, and wandered to a side street, onto the steps of a two-story apartment building, just to smoke one cigarette and feel the space, the sunny winter february day. it was necessary for me to just sit there, and then, for one truly is only through a moment of total solitude. now, nine years after, I had no difficulty of finding the exact doorstep using google earth, with a search word central park nyc. my internal spatial map immediately saw where was that location that I can now call 40.781521, -73.976532.

Under the Stars

there used to be a time in my life when I could just walk out of my apartment building with marble floors to a holey street made of asphalt. for forty meters I would walk uphill from the huge front door, then turn right and walk until the end of that street, say 100 meters, to the bottom of 90 stairs. that street was called via glorioso, and I have to admit that those moments on the steps were always glorious, given the view over the roofs of rome.

usually I climbed up there at night, for being unable to sleep and just wanting to be somewhere under the stars, smoking and wishing for a miracle. now, here, I'm like a caged animal. as far as I have observed, it has not stopped snowing for four days, during which I've gone out only once just to buy warming red wine from the alko across the street. I have by now learned, that the winter cannot be healed, not even with votka.

in short, there's no option for a place under the stars to meditate in.

Highway to Heaven

three or four nights, two or three nights badly slept. I think it was the phone call, during which I felt my heart sink deeper and wrap around itself. or maybe it's the coldness of the nights creeping in from thin walls.

trance states are chemical induced states like drugged up states. I cannot believe I've learned to dissociate. especially for I never really wanted to learn, or at least I never consciously tried. but, I guess due to my subconsciousness knowing about such a state to be experienced it also wanted to experience it. damn, I might be fucked.

what's the big deal with dissociation you ask. well. it's uncontrollable. there might become a day when I just fall down from all I know, that being what I believe to exist there where I am in a given time and space. I have never done any dissociative drug btw. never dmt or dxm or ketamine. never. I have not wanted to. I've been afraid a little to be honest.

and now it's coming onto me with very little control. It's coming onto me in a way that under that state, in that state I really don't even want out. my body experiences nothing but my mind experiences too much. it's like ten times more cool than no gravity. or how would I know.

this well documented neuro-physiological development heals psychological scars, apparently dissociating the connections between perceptual and painful emotional components of traumatic memories (thereby eliminating the associated fear and anxiety). this results in a healthy and deeply harmonious way of functioning, an optimization of the performance of the brain.

if it is trauma that lies behind my newly born dissociative capabilities then I truly am fucked. for then I know it's possible, and thus we are all fucked, to a degree. I know shit will go down in the future too, and apparently my pussy ass brain thinks the best way to handle such events is to dissociate. I hate this escapist bullshit.

so what to do. oh yeah took me two seconds to know. there's at least two different approaches to meditation as far as I know. the one which seems more difficult and thus the people competitive by nature usually go for it, is meditation as in emptying your head. I've done that in the past. always had great difficulties with it, but at times when walking on a street I can turn the autopilot on and not think about anything, for few minutes that is. longer time, as an idea, seems a little distressing due to it possibly leading to the above mentioned dissociation, though I never remember actually experiencing that, but many people tell stories about loosing parts of a drive from place a to b in a second. I've been very close to people with that kinda experiences.

the other type of meditation leads to something called mindfulness, which means self-regulation of attention, focusing on immediate experience, and a particular orientation toward one's own experiences, characterized by curiosity, openness and acceptance. that sounds conscious, right? and being conscious on my opinion is a good thing. one must learn to face hard times, including boring times.

does dissociation naturally make space for the development of another ego? how do sharks roll? how would I roll if I were a shark? I am right brained, one can see it from my eyes among other things. my right eye is smaller, especially in the mornings.

if I were a shark, my right hemisphere would probably want less sleep than my left hemisphere. it would dominate my being. if something bad would happen, then it might want to not to live that much anymore. thus maybe sleep more, giving the leftie some more time to hunt and swim and such. for a shark can never stop.

I remember a long time ago when it was the first day of summer, the most beautiful day of that summer, and we were drinking champagne by the ocean. he told me about a guy in southern italy who would swim with the sharks. how he had at first accidentally wandered to a group of tens of sharks while snorkeling alone. the sharks surrounded him in an oppressive manner. the guy had no hope other than what he could have, and that was faith in himself and his character. by controlling his fear, he managed to make the leader of the group of sharks see him as not food. as someone who is cool. after that, he swam with the same group many times, and had some science to prove that the sharks knew where he was and when he was to be in where in the ocean, so they could hook up.

I've once been to a city in an island in northern norway, a city that's a great distance from any other city, andenes, which is known from whale killing and a nato base. there's a sense of life in every place on this earth - in my memories of distant lands I have a feeling memory among other memories like spatial maps and events that form stories. andenes felt like death. there was no people on the streets, it was a rainy day. a freezing wind hit the harbor from somewhere not seen in the horizon of norwegian sea. the nato base was a small compound hundreds of meters from the city, but I could see it behind the fence which separated me from the asphalt covering that few hundred meters. in a place with very little flora it looked like the world had ended.

I know nothing about the brains of whales. I don't know if there's such knowledge, and am too preoccupied to google. 

Cannabis in Finland

Hollow Mask

the first snow is on the ground and so is white also my wine

desperation came running through the garden, but it's not like I'm here to whine 

it's just that I would've hoped for honesty from the stable keeper. the summer is all gone and I had no idea we had a white horse

though the signs were there. I saw my dear friend be sick like from a hard galloping through the lands, unlike the kind of relaxed, zen-like feel you get from riding our old mare with the name verde through the small pathways of mother nature. too bad I was really too lazy to ever visit the stables myself. there was always someone at home to do the saddling for me

forget all else, for honesty is really all I ask

and I can help you see which way faces the hollow mask

for I'm in the process of disintegration, saying bye bye for preconceived concepts. this has made me be like a mother to a number of street kids, those with no capacity to realize a home on their own. why, I don't know. maybe they're in the same process, though still trying to figure out proper coping skills, level 4, for when I've left for long journeys they always seem to find another heroine to be my substitute

What do I have on my Hands?

Surveillance: I'm sorry I haven't really been contributing into this study as well as I could have with all my capacities to see all that is in words pictures film statistics you name it, data. for there's a lot out there in regards to love, like poetry written in a state of desperation, you know, art therapy and stuff like that. ok, so this is from a web diary of some young woman, written in two parts back in like 2009 or something. I love the way people imagine a password can secure their musings btw

I am very wrong in many things 

I look so horrible in my eyes that I belong to hide, I'm thriving for solitude. got my spirit really insulted the night it left my body, and now it has been whispering demonosities in my ears for a week and another week. no blissful mornings anymore. tension within causes my back to turn to rock, neck to thicken ever more, and as a new feature I feel the joints leaving under my clavicle towards my chin be like violin strings

I am more aggressive day by day 

what do I have on my hands?

 

right now I know where I stand
got familiar with what I have on my hands
today went by too hot, so hot it gave me a headache
run like a dog with harvested power from years left behind

saw friends, all the good friends
even the ones not seen in months

spirit tried its all, tried to communicate from distance
spreading sweat in the night all the way from ooppera to the depths of kallio
while whispering
 

mambo
mambo!

but it is not my mission, that I know
no tools to build in my hands, says the law

God: I don't know what's the point to speak about love anymore. in case dear readers haven't noticed, the sphere of men has been dominated by the culture of disintegration for the past decades. everything is being splintered to pieces...

I could go on and on about this, but let's just leave it for I'm too depressed right now

Ayn Rand: decomposition is the postscript to the death of a human body; disintegration is the preface to the death of a human mind. disintegration is the keynote and goal of modern art - the disintegration of man’s conceptual faculty, and the retrogression of an adult mind to the state of a mewling infant

to reduce man’s consciousness to the level of sensations, with no capacity to integrate them, is the intention behind the reducing of language to grunts, of literature to “moods,” of painting to smears, of sculpture to slabs, of music to noise

Hyvä Suomi

Cinnamon

“I'm sorry about last night. it's just that nowadays william and I get together once in a blue moon or something. how was your weekend?”

“good. on friday I saw some covetous hands in action, you know how men sometimes try to possess women like only demons do, and on saturday I celebrated the dead. sunday, well, erm, I don't remember...”

I delight my women with macaroni con cinnamon and sugar

artists, like the greek gods, are only revealed to one another, said Oscar

remember kids, learn to direct your passions correctly. all in life is energy anyway, so that shouldn't be as tricky as it sounds. don't burn your hands. stick them in the snow and wait for tomorrow.

Marla Pence

Joan Didion: a sign on haight street, san fransisco:

last easter day

my christopher robin wandered away

he called april 10th

but he hasn't called since

he said he was coming home

but he hasn't shown

if you see him on haight

please tell him not to wait

I need him now

I don't care how

if he needs the bread

I'll send it ahead

if there's hope

please write me a note

if he's still there

tell him how much I care

where he's at I need to know

for I really love him so

deeply,

marla

marla pence

12702 NE multnomah

portland, ore. 97230

503/252-2720

Looting

Storming Heaven

ladies and gentlemen, tonight we will be here with your favorite william. tonight, we will try to stick up with the love issue that's been at hand for quite some time now. but, when considering our guest for tonight, maybe we'll do a little surfing towards a storming heaven

like I was saying, tonight, this journey begins from kolmas linja

the night before, I was following around on random a guy from ghana for he's a bit suspicious you know. anyway, he was talking all night through with this party girl who's my absolute favorite to follow during the weekends, for she tends to run by even the most secluded cams of the city's alleyways

burn baby burn

and boy do the confident girls burn. even made a burn so deep in the heart of the african, that a few words with a meaning long forgotten were thrown in the air

you know girl

I can tell you anything

you're like a virgin notebook

let me tell you something. back in ghana I saw people smoke one joint, one, one joint, and become crazy in a way of no return. one joint. I don't see that happen to people here, and you know why that is? I tell you why that is. listen, it's for there people believe in that shit, voodoo and shit. they believe in spirits, spirits in the trees, in the animals, rocks, everywhere. it's the womb of humanity down there, so of course everything has a spirit in it. logical. so the people believe that shit. and that shit becomes real and possesses some of the weaker minds for opening a door to their deep roots by just smoking one, one joint

hahaha so the girl answers

when I was a kid I just loved spice girls. you remember spice girls? you gotta remember them, they were huge in the nineties. and you know what I understand now, I now know, that they were clubbing a lot back then, just years after the acid house subculture had ceased to manifest itself in illegal raves. so as a group they represented the mainstream equivalent, toned down version of club culture fueled with ecstasy

so no wonder I became like that. e fueled club kid. for that was the first shit I believed in
 

 well, to be honest, I also do come into being only through belief. why do you think it would be necessary to ask people to believe in god through dogma and such if there was no real benefit from it? I just eat my own ass when I hear those philosophy majors referring to a “selfish god” in regards to this

 and so the kids went to the deep forest

“in the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents. nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen,” wrote william s burroughs

 

and, “apparently, I am not the only one interested in yage. the russians are using this drug in experiments on the slave labor. they want to induce states of automatic obedience and literal thought control. the basic con. no build-up, no routine, just move in on someone's psyche and give orders. the deal is certain to backfire because telepathy is not in itself a one-way setup, or a setup of sender and receiver at all”