That which is heavier,
Allows that which is lighter,
While that which is lighter,
Allows that which is heavier,
Flowing ad infinitum.
I thought I knew what I wanted to say, but as soon as I wrote the words down they had to be erased.
Full off the script I keep shoving in my face, I’m eating these lines like an unsupervised fat kid at an all you can eat buffet.
The arrogance apparent, parroting parents till the echos rebounding have faded to transparent.
I’m staring into a pool, the general mish-mash, it’s surface like my mind, sometimes still, sometimes thrashed.
It’s all me, every single problem I see, reflecting the chaos I haven’t set free.
Was blinded by lies though I sincerely believed, angry with the labels others slapped on me.
Till one day I stepped out, saw from the outside, a fourth dimensional perspective - I’m already what I am, no more reason to hide.
Which came first, the seed or the tree? Both - everything is existing simultaneously.
Judged by the fruit, not the name on the seed, words are only useful to constrain the be-ing.
Be here now
"When you are nothing, you are simultaneously everything"
Dr. Schrödinger’s cat in the hat:
Wanted dead and alive - for letting possibility one, two, infinity - do the jail break dance on my eyeWatch.
Unlock the iWants.
GNU licensed IP address hashtagging, public domain walls, sharing with donated fonts.
No past perception based limitations,
Preoccupations or passive aggressions,
You’re irrecoverably relatively / off of the clock,
Irreverently eating green eggs and ham with a relative fox,
Relatively outside of Some Thing’s box.
When you are Some Thing, life is pain - change only happens gradually:
Grey clouds, fore casting heavy reigns - plagued by psychosomatic maladies.
Definitions constrain potential possibility planes – karmically attached gravity.
Gravely it’s a shame,
these grave digging robbers hitting their own gravy trains.
Higher prophets for the highest profits - pump and dump for short term gains.
Preaching doom and gloom,
No long term remainders can remain,
Reminders of the point at which imperfection was detained -
Eliminated, scrubbed -
The Nothings pile up;
Plucking up a reckoning fashioned from leaving none / but your own blood to suck.
When you are nothing you are everything which is something:
but it’s transitory,
based on a story,
written in blood.
Uno con la nada igual dos,
dos más uno igual tres,
Fibonacci, proporción áurea,
espacio y vez.
Alles sind meine Beziehungen,
(All are my relations)
meine Welt ist Sie Umgebungen,
(My world / kingdom is the environments)
wie ich teile was ich erkenne -
(how I divide what I see)
Macht das Zauber die ich spreche.
(Makes the spells I speak)
все это отражение
(everything is a reflection)
как я люблю жизнь,
(how I love life)
так меня любит жизнь
(is how life loves me)
Бог во всем, что я вижу
(god is in all I perceive)
When I was young (which increasingly feels like yesterday) I was under the impression that humans were supposed to be "in control" of their lives and through effort maintain that life till the end. The more I experience, the more I question how much control each of us has over anything. Do we even choose the thoughts that come into our minds or is it merely where we direct our attention which through repetition wears a groove for energy to drop into making that "line of thinking" "second nature" or "subconscious"?
Persistent attention forms natural actions which further wear the groove. A thought obsessed upon with no outlet is like pumping water into a reservoir till it overflows or the dam breaks. Energy always ends up taking the path of least resistance which is why "negative" or "positive" actions are self-reinforcing. Perception of reality is constrained by the sides of the canyon the river of time is flowing through. Altering the state of consciousness through various means breaks the normal state of flow allowing a vision into a more natural way of being, one that is outside of the engrained programming of personal history.
If most action is the natural outlet of energy from perseverating on a thought or idea, perhaps the best actions are the thoughtless ones. Thoughtless meaning: no desire for a specific outcome. We despise the impermanence of life due to the permanence of the changes. Pain is thought to help keep our corpus intact but that pain would likely be ignored if there were an inbuilt regeneration system to restore the status quo. The bulk of our fear of the future is because we do not know if we will regenerate what we perceive is being lost in the passage of time. No matter how hard you try, nothing can be recreated - the same experience had twice. Despite getting everything environmentally to "match", the Observer - you, is not the same for having already previously had the experience. The only way this could be accomplished would be to perform a memory wipe and program your consciousness with the entire sequence up till the point you wish to repeat. Notwithstanding, the highly improbable but necessary rewinding of the entire universe to repeat an event, what would be the point if you didn't remember having repeated it? Without a change in that cycle you end up stuck in "groundhog day", or as some might call it - hell.
Save for experiencing the infinitely knowable yet ultimately inscrutable flow of life, there isn't a point. That's what impermanence is for - having an experience, not something to strive for mastery over and subdue. Everything has cycles to necessitate the illusion of time. The only thing that is intrinsically you is the intangible essence of your perception. You don't ever die or become reborn, you just move between vehicles.
Constant truth and perfection,
Unadulterated acknowledgement of personal intention
Judge not or you will be judged, ROI the measure you meet, lose the beam in your eye before tweezing your bro - internal MPD, externalized foes
They say Jesus said it but then fail to comprehend or heed, interpret the proverb to fix egos pride fiend.
Main line, a narrow path, chop down all their trees, burn the high places calling them weeds
Self righteous stoners shotgun saw dust from sawed offs, blasting all the wretched sinners they cross.
Stop parting the seas, Moses step over, Kanye that stick - dick, your turn’s over.
You see what you want, filtered through personal belief, reticular active your rectum, pop your head out - purge your beliefs
Step back, whoah that’s whack - shits proportional to how close you are to what you attttack - reflection, your perception, those little dots, only microcosms of logs you haven’t yet chopped.