Light

As the sun gazed at me with it's scorching light, I stay laid back, eyes to the green pastures making up my dream scape, holding my thoughts through the unending tyranny of thought about thought, thoughts of thinking, hands not a solemn abode for my head, are tied behind clutching each other as if shackled by a hundred linked metals, strong and cold, clinking with an eerie voice, and my head is rested upon it, death's dark embrace a relieving caress, madness has touched my soul. [[Trip through the gates]]

This is where my soulless spirit once dwelt, as I see it from this strange new soft eclipse of being, flying where there is no sky, no earth down below, hovering in infinity, now I feel as one, everything is one, one and a million, everything, my eyes closed, searching for what was and is and will be, all but a distant memory now, what is thought anyways, where am I? What am I? In this reality of dreams I am. In the dream of reality I was. In these river of thoughts, as if hit by a large rock staring at the sky, I see it as it is, as everything was meant to be seen. What is consciousness? What is Time? What is Space? What did I create? What can I destroy? What is Light? What is Darkness? In these binary confusions of unreality I used to think. Now it's somehow different, completely different. I touch the bright darkness. I see. I am. The Logos, the Word. In the beginning was the Word. And I am that Word. Everything that was is. Everything that is happened sometime ago. Sometime?                      Time?                                  What is Time? [[Stage for a million reels]] [[The sermon of darkness]] [[Life in death]]

As above so below. The illusory state of being condensed from the collective consciousness off millions of sensory perceptions and hung-on-string visions is what persists. And it does persist. I had felt the lying, gripping choking hold. It goes on till the lying eyes close and the loud truth is revealed inside. That is when it really moves, not when the shadows fall on your eyes, but when you see the light casting the shadows. The strings playing with the dancing shadows, the flames of love, of hate and of everything else that is hooked to the annals of them lie machines that creates your reality and mine. I've left that state of being. Now I am. Now all I can do is float across this heavy viscous of creation. The threshold of life and death that was shown to me, that made my final purpose, shown to me as a path with many flowers and thorns and bushes and rails and burning coals. All along the way shone the scorching sun, shining it's guiding light down below, burning still. The damnation. [[am I...]]

Now I know. Time is an enactment of history, a playback. What happened ever and forever was my thought of history, in loop, with different props and different actors and different scenes. Isn't it funny? Everything is my memory. You are my memory. Reality is the mirror of my higher consciousness. You are not real. You died a long time age, you are but a specter of your former self, the self I gave you. [[The hologram of space-time]]

The second way. The darkness. The underground systems of crevices and lacerating pathways. Skins peel off. Blood drips on the cool rocky floor. Drip, drip, dripping from the body, flowing down, caressing with its warmth along the way. Drip, drip, dripping from the ends of rocks and protrusions as if pointing to somewhere far away. Far beyond the horizon, inside it, dive inside the strange conjunction, far beyond than the naked eyes can see. Walking along, feeling the walls. Don't kill yourself. Don't forget the path. Don't wander off to the first sight of luring light. Don't lose the chosen path. Don't loose your way. [[Come and see...]]

It is a satisfaction to be living in the duality of it. The joy of dances between life and death. To live in those two states. Both life. And death. To draw and release at will. To touch the deep well of madness and swim back up, floating to the surface sanctity, the safe sanctuary at will. That is the true method. The true meaning. And the true purpose. It all boils down to be able to communicate your 'insanity' in a 'sane' manner. To bleed of the discordian truth. [[Come and see...]]

To see the sunshine smile back from the red mystifying, reflecting pool of your own dark blood. That is what made me and you. We have forgotten to acknowledge the blood. And since now you know, since now I know, since I am you and you I, [[I am...]]

In the beginning there was the Word. I am that Word. Each of us is God. I am God.

In the beginning there was the Word. Am I that Word? Am I God?