This dialogue had never happened in this world, it came up in a dream. The #dream passed, but the word remained. F A R D O. That’s fardo which is pronounced like “fardough”. Have you ever heard it?

 “What? You don't know what fardo account is?! Come over here, I'll show you.” said David McCain, my former colleague. “Do you know what fardo means?”

“No,” I said honestly, “I’ve never heard it before. How you spell it?”

“FARDO,” said David, “Fardo, but you pronounce it like ‘far-dough’.”

“And what it means?”

David looked around as if he was looking for an answer, then he nodded to himself and said:

“Look at Burdin,” pointed David at Burdin’s chair.

“He isn’t here,” I said.

“Right,” nodded David, “he isn’t here, but his old jacket hangs on the chair as if he is as if he just had left the room. Burdin might be now thousands of miles away, in

Prudhoe Bay tending to his penguin farm, but it feels as if he is here. That's fardo.”

“So it’s like a reminder?”

“More than just a reminder, it’s a presence in absentia, a feeling of tangible presence without a presence.”

“Alright,” I said, “Sounds a bit oxymoronic, but I think, I know exactly what it means.”

They’ve lived together for forty-nine years. And then one morning she didn't wake up. She was gone. He buried her and kept living. He kept living as out of a long habit, but it was different now, for he couldn’t find solace. For months he couldn't touch her things. He couldn’t walk into her closet. He couldn't stay by her sink in their big bathroom. He used his sink, and his sink only, just as they did it for years. And it went for long and lonely months until one day he decided to change it all. He emptied her closet and he was washing the counter on her bathroom side when he looked into the sink and saw small beads of toothpaste left by her on her last night. She would have cleaned the sink in the morning, except for that she didn’t have a chance. And against his plans and his practical mood, he rolled on the bathroom floor and wailed in agony, as his soul was burning in those cold white beads of fardo.

“Is it that the fardo thing, David?”

“I guess,” nodded David, “it can be a grief enforced by survivors guilt. But it shouldn’t be so dramatic, it can be Something trivial, or, again, it can be that last grasp of a past existence, resisting slipping into the Neverland. Now, let's get back to the account.”

***

This dialogue had never happened in this world, it came up in a dream. The dream passed, but the word remained. So I am passing it to you. That’s fardo which is pronounced like “fardough”. Have you ever heard it?

fardo (fär’dõ) n

a. A tangible presence in absentia, presence without a presence.

b. A feeling of presence without a presence. “The last grasp of a past existence, resisting slipping into the Neverland,” (Bela Abel)

#Dreams

THE PROJECTIONIST WHO PROJECTED IT ALL. Part I .
It would be an awful folly to consider God as a dweller of the same time-space domain where we are presently living. Some of us still believe in naïve cliché of a gray-bearded old man lolling on a cloud. Not that He can’t do it, but just as much as on a cloud, you should expect to find Him on the bottom of the ocean or on a tip of a solar flare. The point is:...
WE CALL IT CHENEOUE
“Then Out of a Smoke locusts came upon the earth. And to them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power.” Rev. 9:3
First of all, this thing is absolutely incongruent to the architecture of earthy beings: it has two hands, two legs and two wings. The latterlooks like coming out of the shoulder plates. It looks scapulopteric.
WHEN THE OLD SHITHOUSE WILL GO UP IN FLAMES 
Some of you, especially those who love The Doors, might remember Jim Morrison yelling to the crowd about astrology [1]:
“I think it’s a bunch of bullshit, myself. But I tell you this never mind if this is a quote, man! I tell you this. I don't know what’s gonna happen, man, but I wanna have my kicks before the old shithouse goes up in flames Alright Alright!!!”
 


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