Tag Archive | cosmos

I’m Ready To Die

I’m not attempting to be morbid, but I’m ready to die. I’m not suicidal–I’m actually content. Why? I’ve lived a full life. I will miss and love Nicole for the rest of my days–that I can’t change. I don’t have any desires, goals, etc., Everything I need to live fits in my backpack. I don’t want nor do I have an automobile, television, house, apartment, etc. I don’t really even need money. There is nothing I want–well sometimes I want it to be quiet. Don’t get me wrong, there are experiences I enjoy immensely–like walking in the forest, spending time with friends and family or researching. There are a lot of people in my life who I love dearly. I’ve lived what seems like many, many lives to me in my 47 years. I can’t believe how many people came in and out of my life–I am grateful for them all–even all of the federal and state agents. Nicole was really excited and laughing when we were surrounded with all those guns pointed at us back in 2001. To me that is a wonderful memory. I’ve received more love and have been on more adventures than what seems even possible. WOW! Is all I can say. I feel gratitude with every breath I take, because I was blessed and able to become One with Nicole and Nature. Oneness is going to change the world. After you experience Oneness–you know that nothing else matters but Love. I’m posting a link to mine and Nicole’s Blog. The title of the post can be misleading–the post is about Oneness and Love more than anything else. https://exploringthelateral.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/the-thermodynamics-of-sacred-sex/


We All Live Downstream

“It’s like you took a bottle of ink and you threw it at a wall. Smash! And all that ink spread. And in the middle, it’s dense, isn’t it? And as it gets out on the edge, the little droplets get finer and finer and make more complicated patterns, see?”


Colored Rocks“There was a big bang at the beginning of things and it spread. And you and I, sitting here in this room, as complicated human beings, are way, way out on the fringe of that bang.”

Carved Head“We are the complicated little patterns on the end of it. Very interesting.”

Magic Mushroom“But so we define ourselves as being only that. If you think that you are only inside your skin, you define yourself as one very complicated little curlique, way out on the edge of that explosion. Way out in space, and way out in time.”

Enchanted Forest“Billions of years ago, you were a big bang, but now you’re a complicated human being.”

Lily“And then we cut ourselves off, and don’t feel that we’re still the big bang. But you are.”

Marshland“Depends how you define yourself. You are actually–if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning– you’re not something that’s a result of the big bang. You’re not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process.”

Wizard's Cap“You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are.”

Life Downstream“When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as–Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so–I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way.”

We All Live Downstream“I know I’m that, too.  But we’ve learned to define ourselves as separate from it. “


*All quotes from Alan Watts


The Art Of Living

“The art of living… is neither careless drifting on the one hand nor fearful clinging to the past on the other. It consists in being sensitive to each moment, in regarding it as utterly new and unique, in having the mind open and wholly receptive.”

Bee to Flower Pollination“This is the real secret of life — to be completely engaged with what you are doing in the here and now. And instead of calling it work, realize it is play.”

Dandelion Macro“Through our eyes, the universe is perceiving itself. Through our ears, the universe is listening to its harmonies. We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its glory, of its magnificence.”

Bullfrogs Mating“To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.”

Bright Yellow Flower“Try to imagine what it will be like to go to sleep and never wake up… now try to imagine what it was like to wake up having never gone to sleep.”

Pink Flowers“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”

Bright Yellow Flower “The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond themselves.”

“Life is like music for its own sake. We are living in an eternal now, and when we listen to music we are not listening to the past, we are not listening to the future, we are listening to an expanded present.”

*All quotes by Alan Watts

Saved By Love

We were going to commit suicide, but we were stopped by Love. . .

Last week, as we screamed and cried in resistance, suicide seemed the only answer to cure the unrelenting torment by the system upon our minds. Told by its systematized agents we must obey, else be tested until cured of our persistent affliction to hold onto existence unabashed, we prepared for finality, the end of this repulsive rapport. Instead, exercising a will to live free, we decided suicide was a strange reaction of two sane, healthy and functional beings. It was love that stopped us and what follows in the succeeding paragraphs is our actual response as to why that suicidal dream deferred. 

Never again will we permit destruction to our minds. Never again will we participate in the fraud, deception, absurdity and insanity of this system. Rather, we choose life, sanity, love and compassion. In whatever environment we dwell, we absorb it . . . so in this lethal system we cannot participate as that means our death.  Should we become indifferent or hate or act with malice; no, this impossibility we cannot do, as we love all humans. All individuals are beautiful, most simply do not accept that as the system has convinced them they are as ugly as it is, and that the only solace of estimation comes in the form of Self-Esteem (and the system constructed the self). Never will we fight or be adversarial as whatever remained within us of a socially constructed self dissolved in the woods, wherein we became one with the divine, a state of mind and we will always remain as one. Love and compassion are not a simple matter of choice, if it were this would be easy; love and compassion comprise the totality of our beings. Most people are innocent, as they have never been given the faculties of choice; however, they are punished by the system for existing.

Our choices were simple: we commit suicide, allow the system to murder us or walk away from the system. We choose to walk away from the system.

When we chose life, our bodies and minds immediately began to heal from what we suffered the past five months. Our appetites returned, we slept soundly by a stream each night and clarity returned to our minds. As such, we cannot nor will we ever again relinquish our health.

From birth, the system attempted at forcing upon us convoluted impressions of good will and has rendered us many masks but we intuitively refused to wear each one.

Stephen Ames from rural town Appalachia and raised on the threshold of woods and wonder, a product of redneck regalia, so beaten for his hyper minded ways and inability to accept black is white and this or that. Nicole Terry born into the city ghettos, like a rat into a labyrinthine cage, a product of crime and blackness, an outcome of automatic submission and the learnt behavior of the ill well and impoverished.

Stephen though his mind reels with thoughts and philosophies unmarred by the educated flimflam of standard schooling, is labeled a high school dropout (he completed the 9th grade) as if that were some undesirable trait. When a child, the so-called educated experts could not fathom his mind and so into special education they cast him, where he spent school days coloring, counting coins and drawing. Later, as an adult, still his mind suffered from horrible systematic onslaught, from a near lobotomy, to SWAT teams and helicopters, to his child hunted, to his childrens’ livelihoods endangered, to thrice committed in a state hospital.

Born with a mind that thrived on quiet and calmness, that could not withstand noise or anything loud (which included certain colors, patterns, sound waves, timbre of voices, persons, etc.), concentration and prolonged focus were Nicole’s woobie. As such, her mind had explored regions and depths almost unfathomable, as for entertainment multiple perspectives became her television. In this way, she learned, but because of this way, she suffered and witnessed the beatings and bruisings (both physical and mental) by others who saw such a mind as a threat to their grade point average, their promotion, or their friendship. Threatened for thinking too much, for seeing too far and for questioning even the advice of experts, into psychiatric hospital after psychiatric hospital she was cast, before being involuntarily committed to the same state hospital whose first patient was a woman committed for excessive study. A natural comprehension of physics and quantum mechanics (without reading a textbook or knowing any equations), philosophy, poetry, prose, art, and music flowed from her fevered mind and every context expressed had upon it the code of the system’s indictment. Suicide plagued my mind throughout and once I did attempt.

We are not these THINGS tied to our otherwise quiet faces, and neither is any other.

When the system cannot assimilate something or someone, it declares war. So, miscomprehension equals war, difference equals war, not in lock step with the rest of lemming soldiers equals war. When down is the status quo, down wars with up; when right is the status quo, then right wars with left, when evil is the status quo then evil wars with good. Everything everywhere among everyone becomes about war. Do you see how deep into earthly culture war pervades? Imaginary lines created from hierarchy, authority, and scheduled time drawn in the sand at which we soldiers place our toes to the line and volunteer at arms…elsewise termination promises certain. What lies and deception have we borrowed because what fools should we be to believe in a dancing ghost? Borders and boundaries reinforce this conditioned belief of finite and linear motion between cultures, countries, ideologies, beliefs, worries, sadness, happiness, families, thoughts, minds, spiritualties, grades, educations, jobs, governments, and the amalgamation of difference the creation of WAR and conflict and competition. And if war manifests then comes governance with governance comes authority, with authority, psychic slavery, with slavery, inertia, when inertia reigns supreme, there can be no motion, and if no motion, we are dead. So the system pretends a casualty of the war it decrees. Why should we (or anyone) join the ranks? 

The system beguiles so humans will volunteer before breaking any promise made followed by conviction that the victim be perpetrator and perpetrator be victim. The Social Machine constructs a SelfEgo then turns the face three hundred sixty degrees on a ninety degree revolving axis, as you stand ashamed and sentenced with guilt. The system includes an inception of contradictions, making fools of us all.

The contradictions raging through the veins of the fiasco called help with Constance (Stephen’s daughter) at Abraxas reflect the absurdity of the System that built it. We could spend the next streams of pages explaining each one of those in minute and precise detail. However, the details of said contradictions (read frauds and deceptions) do not matter anymore. Their continued and vile existence (arms of a system only) matters and their violence we can no longer undertake without sacrificing our minds, conscience and consciousness to the perverted torus entitled Social Life.

December 2012 marked the end of what health and sanity we attained while on the ground and in the woods, into which we crawled from the mediocre repugnance labeled existence spat from the system. On one day, compelled by order of the court, we left our sancta sanctorum for this spinning Skinner box of unrelenting cerebral agony. Rather a fleeting moment’s serenity of woods and summer’s linger than a lifetime of sorrow, rather the aroma of flowers wild with human abandon thriving along streams than crying and screaming each day from psychic pain. After 9 months without the mesmerizing pogrom of insanity defecating onto neural networks, we thought we had escaped, only to be culled by threat and enforcement and force-fed constant cognitive conundrums and contradictions. We have experienced weight loss, nights spent sleepless with our minds broiling for hours in pain until no longer could we withstand the torture. And when the system finally broke us only a few days ago, suicide became our mantra.

And then we relented.

Trapped, implanted within the twisted and briny dark corridors of the Social Machine slowly turning over in its self-induced seamless box, sharing space with Schrodinger’s Cat wondering not here or there but already fading into history; its rightful place upon evolution’s mantel, just another nick in the belt of a future record, so out of necessity we rendered it asunder from our untamed brows and our uncivilized hearts.

Out of necessity and not without reason, we choose Life rather than continue attached like a parasite to the system.

From the moment of our conception, the social system rained instruction, compulsion and policy. Imposed to listen else suffer punishment of attempts at shame, guilt, plunder, interruption and other such psychic torture as children and we now stand again before the same system, only now the system has grown older, ricketier, slower, blinder, more destructive and weak. The system persists because the egos constructed to carry its form lie scared of letting go to fade into history, scared to surrender position as Top Illusion. Scared to open wide their eyes and stare into the abyss of introspection. So, screams and squeals and wails and flails like a dissonant tantrum. We should pity and pay no more witness. We should pat softly its cold brow and leave it to its thunder and throes. We know your fear and forgive you.

We walked for 9 months along the barren back of the earth, touched least by the lofty wiles of civilized living. On the ground we found the hoof beat of health in the morningbreath of a male deer come to his watering hole. With the sky, we inspired the wild phenomena of probable perfection in the song of bird’s wing speaking tales of suns and moons and color and aura, absent of locked doors and alarmed cars. Without insurance and assurance, free of residence and retirement, and scheduled syncopations deceiving stagnation, without mundane for motion and vitality, we slept and walked and slept, moving only in consistency along the boundless and borderless tranquil back of sanity, free will, love and natural living.

What persona would call this crime? What mask would pronounce loudly this an infarction? Upon what? or Whom? Reveal the face upon which we have thrown insult. Bring this wronged enemy? What face does a machine hold? Behind what mask does a system hide?

Behind labor for sustenance of human life because the fruits were made scarce and the laborious products created denied those humans unless you pay the System and from this it represents the same dollar, taxes it, then threatens life less its paid in full…with our lives. The system whispers forget life, live to die, wait patiently in pain, hatred and suffering until ‘afterlife’ where heaven and paradise (read: retirement) awaits.

What the system does not say? There is no heaven…and there is no hell. Illusions both conditioned into systematized belief to keep humans marching always in place, like a treadmill, stagnant and inert, dead. What manner of deception and betrayal is this bannered cry: Die while you live and wait until death to live?! What strange form of perverted bliss is this hope?!

Born without a mask, a system cannot possibly know us, and although each armed institution with no class tried us in classrooms, deceived us with courtesy in courtrooms, and when still we refused to submit to subjectification, punished us softly in padded rooms. These last few months since swallowed by a system called bureaucracy we have spent weeping at the mindless violence of that Human Zoo.

Do you Comprehend the necessity of this? Lest archetypal psychiatry’s limited scope leads your thoughts astray, think not of depression. As if a state of persona as depression could possibly be cause of a state of being.  As a symptom of a civilization gone mad, Depression results under capitulation to the pursuit of material possession, like a sentence to humdrum and drudgery fulfills the desire to forget death and pretend at living. Depression results from this lost cause. Therefore, an infant wish at immortality in the guise of conquering wants without obligation, of need without desire, of life without afterlife persists within such a bored, rude and tedious system.

Having relinquished whatever belongings could not fit into a backpack, we turned our backs to systematic ways of living and depended upon our unplanned perambulations to lead us along whatever path lay beneath our feet. As evening beckoned way beyond the spinning horizon alit by the setting sun, we supped with four legged creatures and each left the table without paying homage or accepting tips with a dollar. Lain supine upon the deserted floor unafraid to be exposed to the elements, we absorbed the natural biorhythms of that environment and found peace.

To think when we began upon our journey to sanity and fitness, we knew nothing, yet bathed ourselves in uncertainty and jumped like a slackliner jumps from the line perched precariously along cliffs, looking down into the gape of Unknown.

Humans sit willingly upon chairs fashioned of wood and dirt from the earth, and furnish a home with earthly ornament, raised above the earth as if superiority were not severance, again trying to be the person the system says resides within. Made to seek amusement at a concrete park, made to feel the wind only in the circular vertigo of the merry go round, fun bought and paid for, isolated and severed from any unregulated, unruly, raw fun. We do not understand why such games played can be called fun persists? We do not want to play such tiny, mean manipulations and call that the Game of Life. We wear no mask; hide behind no persona, and heed no requirement to volunteer compelling positive estimation. So, why does the system demand the opposite and calls that human relationship? We made no promise, yet the system demands reward.  We live in no deception yet the system demands participation in lies. As long as a person accepts what the system attempts to lay as truth then happiness supposedly ensues, but have the audacity to say No and the system becomes vengeful.

So, out of necessity, we seek again peace. That serendipitous journey through levels, dimensions and stations of consciousness, we would have no thing more or less.

You see, humans being together constitute life worth living, and not systems. On a cloudy day this May, we visited Downtown Daily Bread where we saw two friends (whom we met while homeless. They, too, are homeless) we had not seen in months. Between the four of us, we illuminated the entire place with our smiles. Tears formed in our eyes as we hugged, telling them how much we still think and talk of them since our last meeting. We love them, as within they are good. Of the two, one particularly stands out, as the pain evident in his life story seems almost palpable. When but a young man in his 20s (he is now in his 50s), he fell in love with a woman and she with him. Last summer at a pizza shop in Harrisburg the three of us cried together as he told the story of their child. Rarely a day goes by that this moment does not return. Now, even as we presently write this, tears stream down our faces. When conversing with good, kind, and decent people it becomes difficult to do without weeping.

When speaking with the employees from CYS, often we must hold tears at bay, for their suffering is too evident. The pain, the need in their eyes to break free of the system that binds and obligates them strikes us like a blow. Stephen cried at the Domestic Relations hearing, he felt so much pain coming from the hearing officer and from all those to whom he listened while waiting. The hearing officer did not want to participate in the nonsense either, but like Stephen was forced. As such, he is innocent like all employees of government/corporation are. The same as everyone else, they were born into this prison for the mind and so never had a choice. The system is a disease installed into the mind of everyone we meet. We see and feel the pain and suffering everywhere we are, in every environment whether that environment houses prince or vagabond, and that same pain and suffering is in everyone with whom we have spoken.

It is in the many wearing three-piece suits entering the Harrisburg capitol with frowns upon their faces, dreading another day of politics. For them, too, we cry, as they were also born into this muck. So enraptured by the system, very few see the pain and suffering of others or even their own. And the shapes of their bodies bear testament to the pain and suffering endured.

The delusion of a ball of a feces covered in color to fool the mind exists, too, in the humans who must bear the persona of police, schoolteacher, or veteran. All these innocent humans suffer immensely under the oppression and depression caused by compulsory acceptance of the system. Even looking into baleful eyes of the homeless veterans to us can be unbearable. These individuals are not only in severe pain, but we have seen and heard on way to many occasions others demand of them to get a job. This is a preposterous claim (and those who make them know not what they do, as they too, suffer quietly behind a mask) as most of the homeless vets we met have severe mental and physical problems and receive very little help from the system that abused them for war then left them to die on the streets of their hometowns, alone, disavowed and abandoned by that same system.

Many good times, too, we had this past year. We encountered so many good, compassionate and loving people who dedicated their lives to ending pain and suffering. We shared many wonderful and uplifting conversations eating with the homeless in soup kitchens. A special place in our hearts still we reserve for them. They are among the meek and downtrodden and we love them with all our heart and cherish what we shared together.

We love existing, we love seeing beauty inherent in humans and in the world, as we love to give and receive love for others. The system abhors such attributes and makes war else, it dies, so death and disease become its only fruit. We choose not to consume, partake or eat this spoilt fruit.

For what does Civil and Socialized Culture request? The trading of comfort for insurance, sincerity for promise, genuineness for polity, security for exposure and so out of spiritual bitterness humans embark upon war for peace. Should we believe in the self-esteem this opulent dirt promised us why then should we esteem ourselves so lowly? Because the system attempted to instruct, grade, and engineer us to believe that we have no choice but to accept the shadows on the wall in place of nothing at all. All our lives we refused, realizing that we must surrender everything for nothing. We marked the deception of the system and that it makes of humans faceless enemies, to behave accordingly, chasing the promise that one day, after life, humans too can be gods.

Too easily, we could point our fingers and call upon the names of the employees trapped inside institutions (namely Children and Youth Services, Abraxas, Juvenile Probation Office, Public Defender’s Office, District Attorney’s Office, Dauphin County Judicial System, etc.) who have tried along with us to help Constance because she was raped repeatedly when she was 10 and 11 years old. Out of what must be unimaginable pain for any child to bear, she sought the blankness of drugs to stop it (we have been trying to help her and trying to find care for her, but it has been extremely difficult). And we could expose vulnerable each of these institutionalized employees’ unwilling and unknowing error. Errors that otherwise would not be if policy and regulation did not tie their hands and warp their brains, preying on their fear of losing all they have already invested.  Unknowing and innocent actors them all in the Theatre of Absurd produced by the system, and rightfully are forgiven.

Shall we, instead, expose a mere three from the many too many examples of insanity and absurdity that we have endured over the past five months?

  • (1) Soon after Constance’s custody placement with Dauphin County Children and Youth Services, Stephen received a suit for child support from CYS. Told by the employees they had no choice but to sue him though they knew he was not required to pay (even if he wanted to).  Because an SSI recipient (the system branded Stephen disabled, however, he is not) by the system’s own law CYS cannot sue an SSI recipient for child support. Despite this supposedly unformidable law, Domestic Relations required him to once again appear. Most disturbing about this fiasco is that this has occurred to Stephen other times, once before at domestic relations, once before a court of common pleas judge and once before the superior court.  Furthermore, Stephen appeared at Domestic Relations under threat of imprisonment should he not volunteer, despite all parties involved having full knowledge that the whole charade was a farce. At the hearing, Stephen offered to pay support, but the hearing officer dismissed the case and told Stephen he could not pay, as it was against the law. Such blatant insanity caused his mind to shatter, the absurdities and insanities swirling around the child support became too much for his mind to handle. He cried and screamed daily from the pain.
  • (2) In early March, after Constance’s admittance to Abraxas Dawn received by mail confidential information regarding a different adolescent at Abraxas. The address and name on the envelope were Dawn’s, but inside the envelope lay a personal letter to another mother regarding information about whose son was enrolled in a different dorm at Abraxas
  • At that time, Dawn had not received any information regarding    Constance, such as the Family Packet that was supposed to have been received within the first week following her admittance. The aforementioned mistaken information was not received by Dawn until at least 3 weeks following Constance’s admission. Also, Abraxas was to have contacted Dawn within the first 72 hours of Constance’s admission and the aforementioned mistaken information was the first contact Dawn received from Abraxas.
  • When Dawn and Stephen notified several employees at Abraxas of this mistake, they were told to shred the information, dispose of the information and return to sender. All three illegal according to the rules of the system. Shocked and stunned, this caused us many sleepless nights, pacing and crying. We wondered, “Why would they do this to us?” We cannot engage in such atrocities for our minds shatter. After much deliberation and turmoil, we realized that the reason why those employees told us to commit illegal acts is their sheer panic. The system does not allow mistakes or errors as such acts expose raw its inconsistency, and when exposed, it must reach out and strike any who dare to mistake. Out of fear and sheer terror of retribution from the system, the employees told us to commit what they did not know where illegal acts, and they did not know what else to do other than hide their mistake. We still possess the documents; we do not know what else to do with them.
  • (3) At two separate family engagement meetings we shared with several CYS employees whom have been wonderful throughout this ordeal, we were told that nothing could truly be determined about Constance’s actual behavior and mental state until she has been completely clean of drugs (including prescription drugs). Elsewise, what damage, if any, Constance has suffered under her high and extreme drug abuse/addictions cannot be known. From the first meeting, it was insisted that Constance must be completely clean of drugs before a required and much needed psychiatric evaluation can be performed or a required MRI scan prescribed to determine any long lasting or short-term neurological damage.  We have the documents from the meetings. We are greatly concerned as August 2012 Constance’s brain was bleeding.
  • As such, we have been under the impression that Constance has not been on any medication whatsoever since admitted to Abraxas. May 9, 2013,  we received in the mail an update from Abraxas, wherein it stated that Constance was not only prescribed Klonopin (a prescription drug she has previously abused), but also prescribed 5 other medicines (Bentyl, Effexor XR, Clonidine, Vistaril, and Naproxen. Klonopin is only the newest medication Constance has been prescribed). This was alarming, as immediately we wondered whether Constance was truly becoming well at Abraxas if she continues to be supported by addictive substances, allowing her to remain in an old, habitual mind state, that of the drug addict. We were under the impression that her treatment at Abraxas would include her working on this addiction and addictive behavior. The answer to this question will indubitably resolve this matter, and present other worries, such as why is Constance prescribed medication despite previous concerns regarding her brain chemistry and her personality behaviors off all medications?
  • As of the writing of this letter, Constance remains on these medications, and has not yet received a psychiatric evaluation or an MRI. Is it not obvious that the system will be cause of Constances’ demise? As this would be unbearable for Stephen’s mind to handle, suicide seemed the only solution.
  • In March 2013, after we embarked upon this rescue for Constance, it was obvious to us then that the people working for CYS were doing all they could, and that their intentions were good as they themselves are good. Stephen wrote a letter thanking them, as we must acknowledge that their help, perhaps misguided and hindered by the system’s rules, was genuine and sincere.

You see, the system creates out of kindness, crime; creates out of care, crime; out of generosity, crime; out of divers ways, crime. The system has taught humans to be judgers, as if also imbibed with the eye of god, so humans join organizations considered prideful to hold office, to possess title, to warrant promotion, to protest dissatisfaction, but that is the deception. Instead, humans continue to march on, a wave of faces, lockstep, syncopated unto the nucleic explosion, in the canyon of fire and the pit of disease and forces one to feel privileged. Humans wish “Father” were so gentle. We are not criminals…the ‘God’ is.

And whose art thou god?

A man ensconced in a lab quote, a mental drag queen, a cosmic transgender. God (the system) as the offspring of Man, a mere description of an external logos, the effect of alchemy, the transformation of wave to thought and the crossing of the threshold between the fabrics of reality and of fiction. The system turns thought into gold, and commoditizes it, transforms will to manifestation and manifestation to control. That is the process of the machine of the system; that is its heart, its inner workings, its organs, its central nervous system.

We have never believed; we have never bowed at the foundation of the system called SOCIAL LIFE.

Now again it has brought us to the foot of its stage at the base of its pulpit and demand that we bow and kiss its ring. To this, we have always and will always deem NO. Under such negation, redemption not required. You see, the system makes request of redemption, it promises forgiveness of sins (debts, failures, secrets, hidden shames, guilts, fetishes, perversions, social proclivities unmentioned, etc.) in exchange for the spirit.

See no one is at fault, only the system is faulty.

Rid the system and all is forgiven, this is the impetuous behind a paradigm shift (these are not thoughts of ours, this is not a utopia, this is sold on TV, this is not a viral video, this is not ego unleashed power, because there is none). This is not self-destruction, for we believe in no self. There are no lines; we bring it all with us. We see and let be. We do not judge according to some label we do not understand. We do not war for we will to peace. The infamous concept: You be you, I am I and we are we together is not a conformity, but an agreement to live together, to coexist without deception. This is talk of health and well-being and fitness. We offer no solutions to society’s finite problems nor do we have any, for infinity will solve that as a hurricane can clean an intoxicated stream and a tempest (paradigm shift) can clean an intoxicated mind, spirit and consciousness. Will there be death, of course, but is death to be mourned, not necessary. Will there be life, of course but is life to be celebrated, not necessary. We speak only of the winter of Man swinging slowly into the spring of Consciousness.

This is not the unleashing of our egos (for we have none and refused the Social Construct the system tried and failed to ordain within us), but a yawp of vitality, from the inspiration of invigoration and the flash of quickening.

We ride the wave of a paradigm shift, and it is the wave of now.

When the system accuses and you defend, Crazy, Traitor, Insurgent, Freedom Fighter becomes the label affixed. Forcing a logical conclusion to defend not, like a magician forces an ace of spades in sleight of hand. But unlike the magician, the system lies and calls it misdirection. Defenders only respond when attacked and the system attempts to make of humans perpetrator and it the victim. We do not succumb. Instead, we offend the system. When the system makes accusation, we reject conviction—the convincing of the system to buy its lies and promises—and contradiction for question. One must ask: How can you be, dear system, when punishment masquerades as promise? How can you be, good system, when you war forgiveness? How can you be, king system, when you know not? How can you be, lord system, when you pretend reality? We must not contradict the system, for that is its death. Destroy it instead with infinity and uncertainty and the unknown; exterminate it with an onslaught of revelation. Call it every name it has ever promised broken. If the system demands one, then give it ALL for the system depends on the finitude required to breathe life into its otherwise inert form. The system survives on the energy of human beings in lockstep syncopation (supplanting natural synchronicity) to power its mechanical heart.

As we will not wear the costumes society has chosen, we will not be made to carry the responsibility of a sisyphusean stage show. Should we act as if we cannot see the projector or the seams in the movie strip? Should we behave as if we find systemic Schrödinger conundrums incomprehensible? Systematized heavenly fathers atomized to the point of instability can no longer stand firm and formidable upon its decomposed stage. Why would any director of such a show expect different from any unmasked performer? One must accept that one does not determine the next time around, so why should one pretend as if one controls the show then wrestle it into stasis that one can marvel at one’s perpetual ignorance as the system makes of any human capitalized?

Apologies, but such abhorrent attempts at absurdity render us insane and beget war with every aspiration. We have a life together, spending every waking moment in the presence of one another; and this system and its minions have ripped that from us. In the guise of employee, the system has stolen our sanity and tried to make us swallow its poison, to replace our minds with the stench of stagnation and pomp. Well, no more.

We would rather continue unblemished by the contracts of the system’s worn and weary wares, and so we reject the care of utility and convenience.

Are we to assume the creature persona laid before us by creators of this Mental Prison (for the form of the system exists as hallucination in the minds of Humans being) masquerading as Real Life? What reality exists in a world wrapped gently in a magic carpet cast into a pit of Mindless Witness? Only a conflicted mind could call such Life normal and consider contentment while so obviously connected at the neck to a rickety plough whose destination blinks oblivion like the fate of a natural shudder, as if Earth shed an insignificant slip of calloused skin. Hardened by tribulation, sharpened by sanguine secrets spilled on the bastardized streets of dirt and green, only a mind caught complicated by contradiction should willfully wander these marked and mental corridors unblemished by misery, so stupefied one must be by the electric glow illuminating fragmented dreams.

Thank you, but for the sake of sanity, health, congruency and well-being, we shall have none.

We speak softly as we tread softly upon the earth. What weapon exists in the absence of conflict? What conflict exists if there are no lines in the sand? No borders separating you from them? No invisible ceiling lined with glass value, no hierarchy, and no authority? To whom then would all this energy be owed?

We only say we do not wish to join this perpetual whirlwind in the mind (the system) for we find it poisonous, an intoxicant. We know it does no thing more than mars the elegant landscape describing existence and turns ugly the inherent beauty in life.

We forgive everyone for every heinous act done in the name of the system, because no one knew he was actor in this ridiculous play, as none knew the system’s deceit upon them and all they pummeled from fear of retribution. See, the system fashions not many personas or many masks (say one for each of us), no; it fashions one mask, one face, and one persona, that of its own reflection. Then upon each real face born into its sordid and tumultuous society (rather than environment, the difference is evident, one natural and the other manufactured to house standards and means, the rules of the game) sews this mask. Conditioned to believe that what education teaches as identification is really what our eyes see, so one looks into the mirror and sees not one’s true face wrangled into a scream of pain insufferable but the mask of emotionless, routinized, robotified expression of placidity and docility. Confused and afraid, adults are made to feed every child (there is no ownership, every child is as precious as the other is, every human as necessary as the other is) the same horrifying slip of existence. Then are forced to call atrocity humanity, to call rudeness brotherly love, to call a violent pit fraternity and call the will to power good will towards men. The system says one thing is another, as it slaps a mask upon your face and calls it your own face. These are its lingering lies, the depths of its deceits, and the core of its contradictions.

The system is a sham, a lie, a mark of the most violate upon our minds. Unable to resist, so many humans surrender to the banshee siren of the system and kill within the light of their humanness, of their innocence, being and love because they were fooled into believing that the system (oh, you wanton monstrosity) would forgive them their daily transgressions if but they only paid and prayed for it. Instead, humans must labor ones’ very lives to the grind, wearing the system’s uniform, feeling safer in conformity. In the name of the system’s so-called protection, earthlings have torn apart our neighborhoods, our families, our lives and our very minds for lamb’s blood. But we are not to blame, the system is.

The system-created ego whispers like the dark voices of a schizophrenic in one’s ear imaginative fears of losing mortgaged house, indebted car, or dead end mundane job and trade it for a dream of a crumb. Rather, we should let those bills expire like the system takes the elderly (the supposed wisest of us all) and warehouses them until their expiration date. Rather, we should let money expire like the system synthesizes food (our very sustenance) for expire forcing everyone to buy more and into dependency upon its disgusting lies for doubt that nothing else can be done (and if it were that would mean being alone, another lie). The aforementioned mortgaged house, indebted car, and dead end job are not problems like the system wants you to believe, the system is maker and creator of fabricated problems that take a lifetime to solve, which is your slavery, your drudgery. The system has engulfed all inhabitants of Earth.

Should we not let the system expire instead? Should we not let go the idol and never look back?

Only then can we share in the happiest moments of our lives.

The Pleasure of Finding UnThinking Out

Richard Feynman Digital Painting by Balamurugan BhaskarWas Richard Feynman really intelligent?

Richard Feynman’s mind discovered secrets of natural law as if it were compelled to, of this attribute who has any doubt? Feynman was known for his uncanny ability at peering into the quantum foam and divining the mysteries of the universes. However, he was not a magician, but a primordial poet. Pulling on the secrets of potential existence, miniature big bangs contained in an elegant symphony of symbols. For all his beautiful brilliance therein lay fallacies of flaw: logic. His theories and discoveries (Feynman Diagrams) have been illustrated unalterable thoroughly and rigorously proven to be correct, still standing against the test of time. In what is he correct though? Elegance? Symbols? Strung together numbers quantifying the unquantifiable? A seeker, searching out the bottomless pit of observable action?  Atomic in his energy race for the penultimate pinnacle of “that which there is no whicher”? And what is its symbol? A Bohr Model surrounding Manhattan?

Richard Feynman said that during the building of the atomic bomb, he never thought about the human lives the testing of the bomb portended. After the Trinity Test ended, he and the other scientists celebrated. What we, the beneficiaries of the atomic race, know and remember of that era are the photographs depicting the burned victims and stock footage of the atomic tests released by the military; and known by its true name, Destruction.

Richard Feynman celebrated the precursor of searing, fleshless death to tens of thousands because a product of his brilliant mind succeeded. To Richard Feynman the magnificent glow of what would ten days later become Little Boy was the affirmation of success. To the residents of Hiroshima, it was the wrath of god. Richard Feynman, theoretical physicist, Nobel Prize winner, professor, joker, father, friend, husband, and child of the universe played the drums and drank wine to the tune of death’s bell. Is that not disgusting? Is that not an heinous act? Does that not make one want to deny someone as prestigious as a Nobel Prize recipient could be so. . . EVIL?

Richard Feynman did not think.

Hydrogen Density Plots by OskayMan’s celebration of his labor pangs can be awfully unwinding. Man’s attempt at supernatural godhood can create a monster of focus that life itself fails notice. In all other aspects of his life, Feynman displayed great depths of empathy, generosity, and kindness as profound as his natural talent. Feynman was not a monster of a man, but was the ilk of great men recorded by human history. His feats are not small in impact on human consciousness leaping into the future (Feynman whispered the beginnings of the current technologically advanced computer age into the builders of the digital revolution [quantum computing]).

Initially, Feynman’s focus was such that he did not consider consequences of success, even after the rational reasons for developing this type of mass destruction no longer applied. As the soldiers hired to drop the bombs thought nothing of the life below the peering eye of their scope, Feynman did not realize until later the impact and totality of the act he committed. Beyond the air, below the looming devastation lay only a target, a completion of a mission, the following of orders, nothing more. Nothing more. Where it lay as the greatest war in the belly of the hired soldier;  this kind of conditioned response is almost necessary under such extreme psychological provisions, elsewise the hired soldier might not drop the bomb (or build it). Words are chosen carefully so as instruction overrides conscience, what Feynman lacked in his focus to solve the problem of nuclear fission. He simply did not think.

Let us delve deeper into the quantum foam—

I once thought logic superior to thinking, as if to think were some diseased form of logic. I was delightfully mistaken. Logic has within its very philosophy an inherent and obvious flaw, it mimics thinking. Logic can be described as a series of instructions strictly adhered to, through which process one can conclude true or false, an unthinking (as with thinking there needn’t be any instructions strictly adhered to). As such, logic cannot sustain under its own power, as it can tend toward massive destruction (however, this is not altogether negative as massive destruction transitions into massive construction). Lest duality be the term conjured in mind, know nonduality waits always behind apparent duality. How the universe (“the which from which there is no whicher” ~Alan Watts) holds no bias for any life, animate and inanimate.

Substatics Quantum Mechanics Maxi Single by alphadesignerThat confusion of life, animate and inanimate, is often made. Inanimation cannot, nor does not, oppose life; life includes the animate and the inanimate. Whatever exists is life is the universe. Whether or not its resonance falls under category as animate or inanimate does not apply. For example, a robot animates like a human, is it life?  A human being mimics an inanimate vegetable or mineral, is he/she life? What line of distinction marks life from animate and inanimate?  Animate merely implies that a form of life is imbibed with motion, with motivation and will, with mind and all its capacities. An inanimate object implies that a form of life can be without motion, motivation and will, and without full capacity of mind.

[This does not sound terribly enlightening.

Rest assured, though, that a future writing should elaborate more on this apparent problem of animate vs inanimate. In the meanwhile, let us return to Ritty Feynman.]

The preceding idea Feynman did not fully comprehend until later. Feynman’s brilliant mind could imagine multi-dimensional abstractions layered upon one another in chaotic complexities; he could grasp the madness of the quantum and return with insights so illuminating as to be frightening. Nevertheless, Feynman did not realize the breadth of such an idea (the nonduality of natural law, of quantum mechanics [perhaps the leap of imagination Einstein supposedly could not stomach about quantum mechanics?] until later in his life.

The focused single mind needs equilibrium (as disequilibrium can be no different from the bicameral mind Julian Jaynes discusses about consciousness) to recycle destruction into construction. It was only after he realized that he did not think and why that Feynman erased the line between this or that. The secret of quantum mechanics and answer to the immortal question: But how could it be that way?

Galaxies by Daniele Nicolucci

“The question is: what if our whole universe were just an atom of an infinitely bigger universe? And what if each of “our world’s” atoms contains a whole universe? In either case, we would ever know. We aren’t able to look past our universe (or past our immediate surroundings in space and time, to tell the truth), nor we can look into anything smaller than a few sub-atomic particles.” ~Daniele Nicolucci

This or that becomes this and that, before it becomes thisthat, then thatthis . . . thathis . . .thaits . . . and so forth. Like galaxies colliding [except this is a slight misnomer. When spring arrives there is no clean exact line marking the first day of spring and the last of winter. Spring weaves through winter, tendrils of the awakening days to come ride the last of winter’s wonder]. . .  Galaxies so-call collide, but they don’t hit one another like two walls meeting each other in the middle of an otherwise empty room, they weave through one another, until one can hardly tell one from the other (at a distance) . . . then something new emerges. Two galaxies wrestle but for no reward and under no competition, only the struggle and then oneness again. Just as a paradigm shift ushers a new era, and as a great innovation charts the way for a new kind of culture and mentality.

Feynman played with physics until the day he died, the pleasure of finding things out continued as his mantra well into his last days. One cannot divine pleasure from finding things out until one has forgone his detachment from all other life. Leggo the ego. . .

The day Man touches that obelisk could be the day he always remembers to think.

“I, a universe of atoms, an atom in the universe.” ~Richard P. Feynman

Feynman On Complementarity Between Science And Religion by Martin LaBar

Image Credits—
“Richard Feynman Digital Painting” by Balamurugan Bhaskar
“Hydrogen Density Plots” by Windell H. Oskay, EvilMadScientist
“Substatics Quantum Mechanics Maxi Single” by AlphaDesigner
“Galaxies” by Daniele Nicolucci
“Feynman on complementarity between science and religion” by Martin LaBar

For Your Pleasure: Men’s Madness: The Myth of Male Reason (this is a documentary about logic run wild in a society)

Levels Of Magnification

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” ~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

It seems to me, at times, that people go around like drones and sometimes I like to pretend I am an alien researcher, stationed at Earth Planet gathering information on the holodeck (yes, holodeck, for often I have trouble convinced by my eyes as they are limited and handicapped and tend to hallucinate strange indoctrinations installed by too much time among the civilized and its bureaucracies and categorizations. And demand of identification-may-I-see-your-papers-please? No, it does not, but as long as we are pretending let us run with it, whaddaya say, eh?). Sometimes, when my mind is set to receive I hear/see snippets of their lives, they occur like intrinsic conversations, save it is not me speaking. Reading people can be interesting. It can be easy, as a matter of taking notice. This man wears a gold band round his middle finger on his left hand: he is married. That she is absent conjures many questions only he holds the answer. The bag on his shoulder holds a bible, a folder and some stapled papers, and a highlighter. He is probably a priest at some local church. More questions. The salad and healthy drink says that he is minding his weight or dieting (as his body is not muscular or lean, we can rule out that he a food connoisseur of sorts or that he is a health nut. He was probably once fatter—his arms are a bit flabby—or perhaps he does not want to become fat). The lines and sag of his face says that he is 45-50 years old. Has he been a priest long? His manner is odd; I cannot quite place the word that describes his peculiar movements. The way he lays out his food, picks up his fork, fixes his chair, reaches for his drink, something, but I’m not sure. Is he angry? Is he upset? Is he burdened? Did he have to come up quickly with a sermon to replace someone else? Is there something on his mind that his sermon cleverly (maybe passive-aggressively) covers?

“All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.” ~Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sometimes, the snippets—so like Dreamtime or daydreaming or time travelling—reveal the answers or just how a moment was prior to or after this moment. How could that be true? If I see a leaf on a tree and the fractal does not end at its tip (for at what point does the fractal terminate? Where, pray tell, does the fractal end and the air (space) begin? At what level of magnification are the ‘two’ divided? When does the wave stop waving?) when does this moment end and the other begin? When does his existence divide mine? When does knowing begin and end? Where is the line that severs space and time and precludes seeing? If we exist, then walls and the illusion of distance do not separate our lives. Consequently, he is an ‘open book’. Are not all of us in some way? Are we not unlike the leaves of the tree? If one alters the level of magnification, one’s mind can peer into the aftermoment like looking through a portal. Doubtful? Perhaps; consider this: waveforms do not end (lest you take this for an absolute statement, I tell you it is not), so then neither does experience.

“All experience is an arch, to build upon.” ~Henry B. Adams

“Every moment is an experience.” ~Jake Roberts

Experience continues as long as light travels (and light is but a waveform). If I can see the light, that moment is Dreamtime; I can “hear” snippets of any experience. It is simply a matter of tuning in to the right frequency, no? Why is it easy to accept the radio or television, yet not the idea of Dreamtime?

What do you think the brain is?

“Experience comprises illusions lost, rather than wisdom gained.” ~Joseph Roux

Looking Up Peers Infinite

“When we look up, it widens our horizons.  We see what a little speck we are in the universe, so insignificant, and we all take ourselves so seriously, but in the sky, there are no boundaries.  No differences of caste or religion or race.”  ~Julia Gregson


“It is better to have your head in the clouds, and know where you are… than to breathe the clearer atmosphere below them, and think that you are in paradise.” ~Henry David Thoreau


“The sky broke like an egg into full sunset and the water caught fire.”  ~Pamela Hansford Johnson


“When scattered clouds are resting on the bosoms of hills, it seems as if one might climb into the heavenly region, earth being so intermixed with sky, and gradually transformed into it.”  ~Nathaniel Hawthorne


“Going around under an umbrella interferes with one’s looking up at the sky.” ~Jerzy Kosinksi


“A cloud does not know why it moves in just such a direction and at such a speed… It feels an impulsion… this is the place to go now.  But the sky knows the reasons and the patterns behind all clouds, and you will know, too, when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons.” ~Richard Bach


“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.”  ~John Lubbock


“Look at your feet.  You are standing in the sky.  When we think of the sky, we tend to look up, but the sky actually begins at the earth.”  ~Diane Ackerman


“Excuse me while I kiss the sky.” ~Jimi Hendrix


“Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature’s teachings.” ~William C. Bryant


“The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.”  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson


“When I do not walk in the clouds I walk as though I were lost.”  ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin


“Thank God men cannot fly, and lay waste the sky as well as the earth.”  ~Henry David Thoreau


“How prone poor Humanity is to dam up the minutest remnants of its freedom, and build an artificial roof to prevent it looking up to the clear blue sky.” ~E.T.A. Hoffmann


“You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.”  ~Henry David Thoreau


“I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye upon that little tent of blue which prisoners call the sky.”  ~Oscar Wilde


“When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky.” ~Buddha