Chapter 1

THE FLIGHT TO BOSTON

24th of Rajab 1435

(May 24, 2014)

The Imam Al-Mustafa received his discharge. His mother, Maryam, met him at the entrance to the ward carrying a box of Italian chocolates. An electric buzzer, depressed by one of the staff members, opened the door. Together the Imam and his mother left the ward in the usual silence which had marred their relationship. She guided him under a brilliant sky. They walked slowly along Fort Washington Avenue, and it was Maryam who broke the silence.

“How are you my sweet?”

“I’m fine,” said the Imam, not wishing to be bothered.

When they stopped at the crosswalk, Maryam ran her fingers through his hair as she noticed how long it had grown. The Imam now wore a scraggly beard.

“Are you all right?” she asked again.

They walked along a sun-drenched street to their apartment building. Maryam wondered why her son was so sullen. She hoped he had been cured. His head hung low. His eyes drooped.

At home Maryam prepared some mincemeat and flat bread. Mustafa flicked on the television. She served him the food on the sofa, and the Imam ate while he watched. She sat down beside him and wiped some strands of hair from his brow. He pulled away, letting the television mesmerize him.

“Can you say a few words? Anything at all? Are you glad to be back?”

“I have to leave,” he said.

“Where are you going? You just got home.”

“I’m going further north.”

“Not without eating your food.”

“I need an education.”

Maryam played with his hair.

“And a haircut,” she said.

“Now I’m traveling farther north within the next few days. Are you listening?”

“You can’t go anywhere without something to eat. Besides, all your education can be completed from this house. You’re okay now. The doctors have cured you.”

“I need to be on my own.”

“You’re a little young for that.”

“I’m older now.”

Maryam was not prepared for another fight at the door, but if another fight were to keep her son from leaving, she would fight. Fighting at the door was a fight against the demons within her son, as the devil himself had made him sick in the first place. She blamed the devil for her son’s temptation to flee. This devil would bother him until he learned Arabic.

“You will learn your prayers before you leave,” she said.

“I already know them,” he said, his eyes fixed to the television screen.

“So say them. Start with the opening verse.”

“Dear God,” he began.

“No, it’s Bismillah...”

“I don’t pray that way.”

“Oh really?” said Maryam, standing in front of the television. “You’re not going anywhere. Arabic has been your chosen language and within that language you must pray. You’ll start by learning first thing tomorrow.”

“I’ll be too busy packing my bags.”

“And where will you go? Without money? Without shelter?”

“People do it all the time.”

“In you’re condition you’re not going anywhere.”

“You’ll give me the money to do it.”

“Ha! A devil is following you. And that enemy is after you. He wants to kill you, yes, the same way he killed your father. You must fight that devil. Say that special verse and spit into the ground.”

“And I’m the one who was sent away?”

“That’s right, because the devil was in you. Even these dirty psychiatrists saw the devil within your head, and luckily, with the might of Allah, that devil has been drawn out and cast down.”

“Be certain. I’m leaving within the next few days. I’m traveling to Boston.”

“Why Boston? Who’s in Boston? I’m not even sure where Boston is.”

“There are plenty of colleges there. I want an education.”

“You haven’t gotten through high school yet You just left the hospital. Why Boston?”

“I’ll attend high school in Boston.”

“What gave you such an idea?”

“I met someone in the hospital, and she went to college in Boston, and now I will attend school in Boston.”

“I don’t know what devil put ideas in your head, but Arabic lessons are the next order of business,” and she turned off the television.

On the next morning, a yellow haze fell upon the city. Some of this light dribbled into Maryam’s bedroom. She didn’t hear the television in the next room, an indication that Imam Mustafa remained asleep. She performed ablution in the bathroom, and she set out elementary books of Arabic on the coffee table. She spread her prayer cloth along the floor and prostrated herself before Allah. She said the verses aloud, hoping they would wake the Imam. Her knees cracked during the routine prostrations, and the floorboards creaked. She poked her head into Mustafa’s room only to find him missing. She checked the entire apartment only to find her purse emptied of its contents by the door. She ran to the telephone and called Vasilla as tears of worry and confusion filled her eyes.

4th of Thwal-Hijja 1435

(September 29, 2014)

Boston, Massachusetts

And I loaned her the money, and she injected more cocaine with her friend Harry who tried to get me out of the room as fast as he could. She stole all my cigarettes, yes this same woman who asked me if I wanted some ‘nookie.’ But I drank her wine. These are the people of the streets, and I’m not certain why I was lead here. Very confused, my mind racing towards some fantastic end. It’s getting colder every day, yet my brain is scalding hot, boiling, and buckling under the weight of its own tyranny.

Always, I think things are contrived for my own understanding. But in fact, I am the last one to know. I am the last one to think. I’m just like the others- anyone who dared to dream and ended up short. The tragedy with a happy ending. Such is the goal.

Cheryl was the woman I was just getting to know, injecting dope in front of me, and yet I wanted her all the more. How many years has she been into that? Her language almost alien. And yet every thought was for my understanding, as though she were here by some cosmic coincidence. But these thoughts come a mile a minute. All of this stuff will be buried one day, and I will leave the rest up to God.

That’s much too easy. I want to know it all, every last ridge of the key to the universe, as the present is what we are trying to push as eternal. So weird. The greater the present, the more circular we become. Anyone is welcome, and anyone who wants to enter the circle can enter the center. It’s as if this is all set up by the higher power. Suddenly I’m the center of the universe, and everything is a significant event.

She was injecting dope into her arms, and the blood trickled from the poke-hole. In a way, I thought I was ruining myself over this: one woman injecting dope through her veins, hardly intelligible, smacking me over the forehead, because she thought I was a ‘zipperhead.’ But I watched this, and I longed for her no more. She would never refuse me, because she likes to take the money. Forget it, maybe I shouldn’t ask her. It might mean that I’m consorting with a prostitute who injects dope for a living. The blood trickled down her arms. She slapped me in the face, and then I could not understand her as she spoke too quickly. And she rolled her tongue back and forth like a lizard. She said she was a lizard. I kept on thinking tonight. The present is this wonderful ship waiting to be set free. The idea is old, but the thought springs eternal. Many of these thoughts seem eternal. But one thought, and one thought only expands the eternal. This is the thought of peace. It is the light we all want. Only then can we be truly alive. It will happen, and the present will thus transform itself. We all seem to be on the same plane, and to move ourselves upwards takes a higher consciousness, unlike economics and technology. A transformation of the human spirit. I will find this spirit. All of us together, not a single one missing. And so I am confined to live in the present. The present is the only arena whereby peace and love may permeate. The present, then, is where I shall remain. Death means going directly to God. If you want to live the hard way, you find why every single one of us can’t leave. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. We all go to heaven no matter who we are, no matter what you bring, we all go to heaven, and I will wait for that day. But of course, I contradict myself. I want to die. That will be the day when I give up on life altogether. I will take the gun, cock the trigger, and squeeze. And what I’m dreaming before I die will be the greatest thought ever known to humankind.

5th of Thwal-Hijja 1435

September 30, 2014

You can easily blame it on the drugs, but we were on a higher plane of reality again. It was all on purpose, as though this abandoned building were watched by cameras. Different cameras- Cheryl wanted to know what hit me, what went wrong, a barrage of questions. We made sense and then we angered each other. She is usually unintelligible, which explains my frustration.

One day I wil be on another plane of reality, and this time gyrating. Another homeless fellow gave me this idea.

Is this life one big lie? Cheryl seemed to be one big lie. Maybe this is one big game? And we ultimately find the right woman after a long time, after an eternity. Differing planes of reality. Eliminate the hatred, the war, the paranoia. Introduce love as a concept. And perhaps I’m paranoid, afraid of violence at every turn, yet that mugger who choked me in the Commons did so in a paternal way. He wanted me to be okay. Cheryl mugged me tonight. She hit me, and I got all upset and almost thought about leaving this drug den. I never thought I’d sink so low.

A party in Hell before it’s all over. But how far do I want to go? All the way to hell? All or none. Or maybe a little. I can take this all. Before it didn’t make sense. Now it’s starting to: imaginary friends, different planes of reality, different drugs, different prescription drugs. All these drugs to carry us on up, yet Am I ready to die, now that I have bitched about life so much? Be patient. My end is near. Suddenly death scares the shit out of me. Kill me if you dare. But we continue. This is what I’m seeing.

We wish to live in peace like any goddamned human being who ever existed. Face it. We all want this peace, and we must live together in order to achieve it. But the question becomes: how will we do it together? Understanding the same thing, or trying to achieve the same goal, will help immensely. And I am arguing for peace. The goal of peace. Beyond peace we have absolute love.

Right? Not necessarily. I have drawn the same to the left. The point is that we all go together.

Man, why do I get into this stuff? I guess I get hit by it, and we are all hit by it at one time or another. We are all hit by the touch of God. We are all touched by God. The present will be worth something someday, even though it is worth nothing now.

Cheryl sounded intelligible after she shot up, or at least I assumed she shot some, or else it was God in the room, because she sounded intelligible. It’s over. It’s not happening. I have changed my tune. I’m wondering about my place in all of this. Where can I contribute? Where am I most wanted, and more importantly, where do I belong in this grand knot of past, present, and future, and peace and God? Just do what I do, and the present always has problems. Soon a woman shall appear, and I shall bow my head to her.

Tired and down from my high. It’s overload, and I realize that the mind has to rest. Instead I lay awake contemplating things. I’m not concerned with my own life. What is normalcy? I want to be normal, like the normal twenty-year-old. For once can’t someone find the right answer to get us out of here? It shan’t be me. Sometimes it’s a pat on the back that you need. I’ll end up on another hospital ward before I know it. I’ve been running from these city cops. It seems like I’ve been fucked up for days. A drug is a drug no matter how you slice it. Some drugs are beneficial, some drugs are harmful and pack a punch. Millions of people can’t be wrong, and I would not recommend it. It makes Cheryl magically civil. Without the dope she’s violent. But with the dope she’s suddenly fantastic.

It’s all too stupid. The further on I go, the less I know, and it’s becoming difficult for me to grapple with all this information. I’m gonna rip up those twenty dollars, or thirty dollars she owes me, and I’m gonna rip it up in her face. I expect thirty dollars from her on Monday. If they don’t give it to me, then I shall not visit Cheryl ever again. She lies, and her whole life is built on lies.

6th of Thwal-Hijja 1435

(October 1, 2014)

Smoke a butt before we begin. Have a shot, a few snorts, a few hits before we begin. Where it ends I have no idea.

And I’m so stuck, needing something more, like alcohol or food or nothing, just nothing to release what has been flowing through me. I take that attitude as though I have no control over what I think. Then who am I, and what am I doing here? Why do I need nicotine every five minutes and cocktails every night? Or perhaps I’m seriously deranged? Is it me, or is it you, or is it all of us on this same wavelength? There’s perhaps too much to learn, but I do have a sense of purpose. I hope I’m doing my part. I’m seeing the signs, but I’m under control, except for a few times when I turn into the beast.

The day was spent walking around. I saw some elderly folks at the pizza shop. I thought of their fears of being mugged and drinking prune juice and shopping about this ethnic-heavy town. I became mad, violently mad, because it was unfair that they lived in fear. The fat man with the thick plastic frames and swollen belly. The two women with him, one of whom I could not hear. And as these violent thoughts gelled into a complete single vision, the old man got up from his chair and looked at me, as if he knew my mind. It was a look of surprise. The three of them left the pizza parlor soon after, taking their shopping bags with them, promising to meet again. Violence is triggered, it seems, by the threat of external violence. The key is to eliminate the external violence. Violence in the mind is also triggered by external violence. When will it end?

I took a short walk in the park. Overcast sky and a bit on the chilly side. I was sober. Quite pleasant walking around for no apparent reason. I’m getting a feel for my neighborhood. Maybe this is happening to all of us, and not just me? We are all headed up the same path. But of course, I’ve said it all before. In other words, I can’t explain all of this. It just happens, and I approach these things as objectively as I can. The difficulties are too immense to have any semblance of control over them. Wait and see. Hopefully I won’t have to endure more violence- domestic, national, international, universal. And by the way, how does one act normally while ill like this? And how do I muster up enough evidence to make these false delusions a reality, or at least capture them in the present? The questions of ‘why’ and ‘how’ irritate me most. Of course, I’m getting all my information from homeless addicts, so there must be more to a delusion than meets the thought. What I would like is some validating evidence of God. But again, my delusions are not delusions. There is no invalidating evidence to cancel my theories. My ideas are not false beliefs.

7th of Thwal-Hijja 1435

(October 2, 2014)

I’ve been trying with all my might to venture back from the great escape that my mind has taken. It’s difficult not knowing where you are, whether or not the forces of the universe are with you or against you. I’ve been feeling horrible for most of the day. Now I know that this sensitive brain must be ill. My head needs examination from someone able to look at it objectively. I awoke this morning, after puking, and thought that we all have the capacity for powers mystical. I’m talking about telepathy. I would rather avoid the issue of telepathy in my attempt to remain normal and sane. Yet these issues are attacking me. I’m just some sort of vessel, and in the meantime I’m hurting myself. My gyration theories are most likely old, but my point is that something is filling me with these thoughts. I’m not a goddamned theoretician. I’m seeing things that aren’t really there. I awoke this morning and blurted out the word “telepathy.” Why me? Why did I have to think about it? My thoughts are warped and in a strange way I’m enjoying it. Maybe I’m pregnant, I don’t have any clues.

Stick with telepathy. This is all flowing through me such that I am unsure of my whereabouts or my identity. It’s not getting scary. It’s getting painful that I am thinking this way. My head hurts. I don’t want to go outside anymore. I’m worried that I might not be getting enough sleep- that I am the conduit by which this message is being delivered. I’m just a grain of dust, a sorrowful pitiful grain of dust.

When thoughts do not flow but turn into ramblings, then I become angry at myself and at those stimulants around me.

All of us are on the same plane, gyrating towards the heavens by a simple process of evolution. I’m the last one to go, I’m afraid. I’m stuck being the last one to evolve. Yet we all go, and I hang on for my dreadful life.

At least I’m a bit more stable now than this morning. I’ve been battered by thoughts all day, and will probably be battered through the night. The realm of the imaginary and the realm of reality fight each other. Do they ever coalesce? Am I ill because I think they do unite in some way, shape, or form? And if they do, could they for once unite in a peaceful manner, to do good things, friendly acts, unremembered acts of kindness and of love? I think these issues have to be settled before there can be any talk of telepathy. I have no doubt it exists. The people look at me, and they act strangely towards me. They know what I’m thinking. And so I try hard to explain this phenomenon.

The Slinky Gyration Model

Plato in his Republic postulated that there were ‘absolutes’ in the universe. For instance, there is absolute Hate, War, Violence, Peace, and the like. We must also assume that there also exists absolute Love, and if we were, let’s say, to choose among a group of absolutes, say among

A) Truth

B) Peace

C) Love

D) Hate

It is absolute Love which seems to imply Peace, Love, and Truth without Hate. Absolute Love also implies ‘all of us,’ so let’s choose Love as a more rational goal or direction. If you don’t believe absolute Love to be a worthwhile choice, then let’s choose it for the sake of example. Again, absolute Love implies ‘all of us’ as shown in the diagram below.

In Love, Peace is implied.

In Peace, Love is not implied.

Hence, Love rests on a higher level than Peace.

So now there is a goal. There is some direction, since we have chosen absolute Love towards which we ought to travel. But the question becomes: how do we get there? What course shall we chart for ‘all of us’ to reach absolute Love? Let’s take one chart which is closer to our reality.

THE REVOLUTIONARY MODEL/BIRTH-DEATH CYCLE

Some assume that there exists a continual cycle of sorts such as explained below.

Since we have chosen absolute love, this cyclical, revolutionary model is not particularly valid. First, because it is no where as close to being absolute; only at a certain time, after the destruction of an existing government, does it seem valid. Second, the Birth/Death cycle does not take into account the evolutionary changes involved with human nature. Therefore, the key to reaching our goal of Absolute Love is to postulate that it is “Evolution not Revolution” which gets us there. These are two reasons to discard the Revolutionary, Birth/Death cycle.

Yet there are still depressions, recessions, violence, and the like. We still have bad days, good days, and average days. Yet we still evolute somehow. How can we conceptualize this phenomena?

Well, if we plot points on an arbitrary plane, we may determine what shape our good days and not-so-good days take. For instance, assume there is a person who has good days and bad days. Feelings of peace and feelings of violence.

Let A1= GOOD DAY

Let B1,2,3= BAD DAYS

Let C1,2,3= GOOD DAYS

Let C3<C1>C2

Let’s call this phenomenon the ‘roller coaster effect.’ Good days and bad days, or the Roller Coaster Effect, does not imply revolution, but it sure seems that way, does it not? Is there not harmony to these good days and bad? Nevertheless, there may always be feelings of revolution in the air. I gain recall the Birth-Death cycle for the purpose of illustration.

The roller coaster effect combined with the new evolutionary cycle shows the reality of the roller coaster as well as the assumption of evolution.

Assuming that there is evolution, we may combine the good days and the bad days with the evolutionary model or the new cycle. Yet we are still on a course towards absolute love, and so there is still a direction. Hence the roller coaster gyration or what I would like to call the ‘slinky gyration.’

We assume that the evolutionary process brings us to higher utility planes. In other words, the farther towards Absolute Love we turn, the more utility comes to this earth for ‘all of us.’

In theories such as this, there is always movement from the general to the specific. For some reason there are components of physics and astrophysics which may explain our movement up the slinky gyration. A main assumption, probably the most important, is that ‘all of us’ are headed there- towards Absolute Love. And to add another dimension to this model which may explain more regarding the infamous theory-practice gap, or the imagination-reality gap, is the concept known as Telekinetics. Let’s take the roller coaster effect. According to the ancient laws of mechanics:

A ball rolling from Point A to B will pick up velocity and actually hit point B and some of C, but find its final resting place at point B. So the question becomes, how do we get to point C? Or the good day?

It must be energy. Some energy must be moving the ball from Point B to C. That phenomena is known (or not known) as Telekinetics. It is the common, ‘all of us’ push to get from point B to C. Hence the concept of Telekinetics.

Now why telekinetics? Why not use technology to get us to point C? Why not use nuclear energy or electricity? Because technology is used for love and war; it does not belong to Absolute Love. And so if something is some love but not all love, should we not find something better or closer to Absolute Love? Telekinetics is closer to Absolute Love simply because it takes ‘all of us’ to use the telekinetic energy to push us to Point C. Technology, if you’ll notice, only takes a few of us. But what about individuality?

The individual verses the collective has long been a problem for many people. In other words, how do I retain my individuality, and at the same time, how do all of us survive and live in peace, love, and understanding? A big assumption we can make is the presence of telepathic communication to bridge the gap between the individual and the collective. Of course I’m still working on the specifics of this, and it will take lots of time to sort out how Telepathy works. But probably the most important point is that Telepathy through the individual drives the collective to induce Telekinetic Energy. Telekinetic energy moves us out of the depression and into ‘the good day’ once again. It takes ‘all of us’ to accomplish this, since one iota of depression in one individual will break or reduce the Telekinetic energy needed to get us to the good day. Both the ideas of Telekinetics and Telepathy need further investigation. But let’s put these thoughts aside except to further our theory.

Telekinetic energy assumes that more telepathy is greater or more beneficial than less telepathy. In other words, the greater the telekinetic energy, the easier it becomes to move to higher utility planes and to overcome the dips of the roller coaster effect. Therefore, it is most beneficial to increase our Life Force in order to achieve these aims. An expansion in the life force greatly helps. Therefore, the assumption of an infinitely expanding life force, or an infinitely expanding population.

There is a necessity to create more telekinetic energy from Point B to C, hence the need for the life force. Along the slinky gyration the life force is increasingly expanding not only to get from point A to C, but also to move to higher utility planes, which takes much effort.

Let us say that ‘all of us’ means the earth itself. There are then vast implications for the structure of our universe. For instance, night time may imply a low point, and day time may imply the high point. Or there may be a gradual pull towards absolute Love; that is the solar system may actually be pulled in tow. But this is stretching things, as our model is merely conceptual.

ASSUMPTIONS- quite a few.

1) Absolute Love exists

2) Absolute Love implies ‘all of us.’

3) Evolution rather than revolution gets us to Absolute Love.

4) A person has good days and bad days.

5) The evolutionary process brings us to higher utility planes.

6) All of us are headed towards Absolute Love.

7) Telekinetics.

8) Telepathic communication.

9) An infinitely expanding life force.

10) Love is higher than peace.

Problems or Questions which still exist:

1) Is this a conceptual problem, or a problem involving astrophysics? In other words, for instance, does night really mean that we are in a depression? If this is so, should everyone conceive birth at four in the morning in order to expand the life force?

2) Too many assumtions not supported by evidence.

3) Once we reach absolute Love, does the life force still expand? Are those who are born in Love better than others?

4) Time- our individual roller coasters may not be in sync to allow Telekinetic energy to bloom at precise times. But again through telepathy the gap is bridged.

A PERSONAL NOTE:

This model is a result of much loneliness and fatigue. It is an attempt to maintain individuality while understanding the common needs of the collective whole. The most difficult challenges are Telepathy and Telekinetics mostly because there is first, no proof of these phenomena (especially Telekinetics which relies on telepathy itself), and second, because of problems with Time and its functions. For example, we are not all upset at the same time. Yet we can measure the mood of the earth by using telepathy as a form of communication? We may be able to personify the earth and its inhabitants as having mood swings. Yet still the direction remains the same and assuming that the model is feasible we are on course towards Absolute Love as a collective.

I can’t prove any of this. That is why it must remain a theory. I have tried within the Slinky Gyration to reflect as much reality as possible. This reality is evidenced in the roller coaster effect. But even the roller coaster effect is an assumption. Much more investigation needs to be made. The difficulties in bringing this theory into practice are insurmountable. But it’s a start, and starting points are specious. My hope is that this model will inspire someone to think of a way to reach Absolute Love.

Telekinetics and telepathy only work for the betterment of our collection of human beings. There must be some control mechanism to monitor it. Anything violent should be cut off, and the human heart, which possesses such a mystical power, will cut off all telepathic power when thoughts become violent, even when it becomes violent and damaging to the recipient. Otherwise, telepathy doesn’t exist, or at least it shouldn’t exist. These are the essential parameters.

Sickness is devouring me at every turn. I need the answers and certainly not the questions. But isn’t it odd that when you figure it out for yourself, life and this reality suddenly have purpose and meaning? Love. Our search for God. All of us are together, even the dead, especially the dead, and of course, the living- old and young, black through white, tall and short, slim and fat. Love = God.

TELEKINETICS IN THE ‘SLINKY GYRATION’ SCHEME

Telepathy belongs to the individual. Telekinetics is used by “all of us.” Take the slinky gyration scheme. The force that moves us up and down on the single utility plane, the force that makes us evolve to the next utility plane, the force that makes our lives eternal surrounding the eternal present is telekinetics. It is ‘tele,’ because through us all the ‘kinetics’ may work. In other words, we all must push this envelope and push hard. Not a single person is left out. If the desire is there among all of us, telekinetics- a union of persons, minds, and motion. To get from here to there takes telekinetics- a union by all of us to move up and down, around, and finally up the curves of the slinky gyration to the next level. A collective telekinetics is more likely to push us gently to a higher utility plane.

Chapter 1 »