Horton-Scorton
Bluelighter
I'd been up for near a week. As I typed the following, I was in a state between being awake and asleep. A speed trance, filled with dissociation and ego loss. I typed this whole thing in a few hours without being very conscious of doing it! I read it later and was at first convinced of its divine nature. When I quit speed and read it again months later I was disturbed by its psychotic, incoherent nature. I couldn't believe this had once made sense to me. Nevertheless, I enjoy it, at least as a good document for gaining insight into the psychotic mind. If you read the whole thing, you're a cool sexy weirdo. Here goes....
Part 1
This is the word of the Gods.
A prayer given partially in English with undefinable holy words to invoke the Divine:
Heaven's Anu-daryth-tantha-tanu
num 6372311, in Time's num
under percept of moon begin the
sounds, yos-costume, lunatamatha...
Give us thy ritual beatings!
Rhythm in all-tongue, Anu, agin
Runith, scribe Anu-daryth-tantha
Love, death, love
We love, death, noth
An appeal to Pan from the same scrolls:
That that does not noth
Drink o'er omen d'moth
Germanicus the Latins might
Pretty Pan, slut of our night
The Roman the mythos the junk
Pan smell us, the post-mortal funk
Immortals smell noth like man
The dance and the devyl d'Pan
Stoic, we have our wine
Stoic, we have our wine
Amen
We men
Amen
On the origin of all things and all nothings:
First, it is said that as one can walk the earth and end in the same spot, and there can through this happening emerge the idea that space is cyclic and circles round-
as one can do this, one can through spirit's percept-amgiven- with Godeyeing surrender-of-flesh percepts-
see the following: that time is no line pointed oneways but a loop. Time is nothing but rhythms and the movement of waves and souls. And this musical movement could not have come about at once from no time at all- thus time reaches its starting point as a loop as a circle- and time has begot time time and time again. As is the earth, the circumference of which, when crossed, yields the starting location, so is space/ so is space, in the abstract, and as is space in the abstract- so is time. But time is already abstract, can scarcely be abstracted further. Time is in genderbending sexual union with sound and pulses. Roughly, time is God. The rhythm of the pan, a polyrhythm, is its own father and mother and child and lover. It knows and does not know itself, itself being God. Time exists only at the mercy of its circular design. The apocalypse is always because time always approaches its end, the end of the loop, whereon the circle-momentum energy of the time-at-end gives semen-upon-egg genesis of itself. Thus the end of time is in course/and/ has always begot the beginning of time- which has at its core the prospect-into-necessity/ divine certainty/ of its own destruction- and the end of the world is always but things will come again.
Of the world and of time and of origins- truths even deeper and truer than this can be given to any soul- there will be rituals of peeling eggshells, unearthing the dead to see them as they are, all of which comes down to drinking of the holy drink...whatever and however that drink might be and wherever/ which spot in space in time the drink is obtained for ritual sacrament.
At x1 of the time-circle, the ratios of time and space are blossomed into jungles of eyepatch over eye not wounded.
It is in this ratio of truth's conception that the mind has its origin.
For the mind is nothing but the painting of the ocean- the mind, more clearly, more truly, the mind is nothing but a perversion of the cyclic and eternal-loop nature of time (God). The mind therefore is to be gotten rid of. Awareness always has at its core the perennial mistake-mechanism. The mind is time- a perception of time is time perceiving itself, roughly- and roughly, it is also a ratio of truth that time is all.
You can understand the senses as brute perversions- defiled versions- of the original time on its rhythmic flow through itself. The loop structure of the eternal time-design manifests its self-reference, self-activation, self-stimulation- as that awareness of itself that is mind. Again, let it be said that mind in its self-reference origin near the origin of time itself in the self-defeating self-repeating loop- mind is a murky falsehood- it imposes judgement- it imposes division- it imposes lines- it invents a geometry of truth- it invents a politics of all- it fails to see that there is nothing to see, and in seeing the opposite, sees nothing.
First there was senseless darkness- but a faint emerging sense must have been emerging faint, you see- for otherwise, how could it be perceived that there even was a darkness? Time was beginning to know itself, as it always falls into, this step, this sequence, this here there at the beginning of its circle, yet again. Faint a patch not yet an eye sees less than seeing, only slight. The movement from not-mind to mind is precious, golden, the stuff of orgasm and death. This is your birth, it shall be said, closer to the truth than your human birth from your mother's womb, but still the beginning of falsehood. Falsehood is not false as you might understand it. Your entire world is all-truth and all-false at once. Mind simply is false. Awareness must be only a cheap copy of the truth, which is time, which is circle-time-structure, which is not-mind. Mind exists as part of the everything-truth, understand. But not as its sensations and concepts and percepts stand in relation to each other- the falseness and perversion of truth thereby created crumbles as the effect of its own falseness. While mind is- it is not. Don't think your way into this thought- for it is not a thought to begin with. In time, mind shall dissipate.
After its origins involving the faint perception of a darkness- time as mind began to divide its self-image, imposing false boundaries. Darkness-sensing the first division, a break at the beginning of the loop. Evolution- not in Darwin's sense- is then kick-started again and again. The five-senses (a ratio in pentagram-form of time-as-all) come out of this ether, and space is abstracted from what it is- that is, time- into a false concept (which nonetheless is utterly part of the truth, because the falseness of concepts is their own deathbed). From the darkness, this primordial senseless nothing being sensed, emerged the first imagery- being seen by time the dance of purplish yellowish pinkish bluish smoke. Vibrant lights, symbols, and things became the world-as-men-see-it, this hazy sensory living-space, ideaspace, symbol-haven, ratio-of-truth, and man in his body and form in "space" came forth.
Mind imposes further divisions. It divides itself into different bodies. Thus, the person that you are is a perversion/ a watering-down of mind-in-general- and mind-in-general, in turn, is a perversion of the eternal flow and looped-circle of time (God). Psychic bonding is the breaking down of the fine-tuned division of man-as-individual- a getting-closer to the not-aware that all craves and through its "craving" actually reaches this not-aware, further in the loop. And death is the split of meta-time (mind) from time-in-itself and naked- this being the original split and origin of falsification and judgement.
Death is the collapse of divide. When all men, all animals, all plants, all specks of consciousness, of that-which-is-aware-of-self-in-general- dissipate into that darkness which is called death and fade into the faint perception of the darkness nearly the same as the darkness faintly sensed at mind's cataclysmic origin- and, from there fade into no perception at all just as a star in the sky goes out and twinkles no more- then time/all/God, without the suffering of mind, will carry out its cycle as truth obscured by no senses. The energy that was once mind but now exists strange-state as truth as not-mind; this, it shall be said, this is in a way the moment behind the propulsion of time to its time's circle's loop's finish. Time dies and does the phoenix-dance into itself and does the amoeba-split into itself...thus the beginning of time begins...the beginning of time is the beginning of the end of time...the end of time is the beginning of the beginning of time...thus there are no beginnings and no ends in time. Beginnings and ends only emerge when mind plucks it all out of the cosmic woodwork.
But none of this can be true, as it only is a perversion of the true by your mind, by the mind that judges that perverts everything- but that it does this, that mind judges and perverts, is only a ratio of truth within your selfsame mind. And what can be known of intimate and timely structure?
Nothing is, as far as you can sense- but let it be known that the above approximation and divine ratio of the truth and of the structure- which claimed and then, to your senses, denied its own truth- is a seed planted inside this mind this knowing- with water, with sun, it may see the divine, as a ratio still but a truer and closer ratio, and collapse into the so-ordained-by-all state at the very end, and then...
On shapes and symbols
Out of the ether emerged the percept of the sun, the bright life-giver the sun-God.
The glowing orb, intuited the primitive God-seeking men, this was a river a sacrifice-worthy entity, an everything, a God...
The sun abstracted became the circle. The prophet A, his ears cut off, his tongue snipped short, his nose stunted growth, his fingertips bled off- this knower of God saw much. He saw, saw with his pinkish round eyes, more than others, who because they could feel fucked- who because they could hear played music- who because they could taste ate meat- who because they could smell smelt the decay of the flesh and the universe.
He worshipped the sun-God and then, in an act of prophecy, an act of divinity, an act of holy perception- he drew with his instrument the circle. The circle was the heart, symbolically, of the sun-God- that which He was in truth in His perfection.
And so on and so forth... and more,
The triangle had as its origins the prophet LMNOP- who, in his sage-eyed see-through percept-collecting, saw the structure of the soul of the Mountain-God his people worshipped, in all its naked holiness a three-prong structure of perfection, the equilateral triangle. The isosceles and scalene triangles emerged as symbols of the sacrilege/ of twisting the arms of God- the sin of sculpting a God in one's own image. Thus, these less perfect triangles were seen to be symbols of devils, vexes, evils and sufferings the world over...
And the moon, by the Lunatiks, those of all ages, came to be understood as a God, a counter-God to the sun-God, long worshipped by people of the earth as life-giver. The moon was not a loud God, but an ambient Being that lingered and expected no return for a large part of its cosmic career.
Shortly thereafter, the semicircle and related ratios and cutups of the divine circle, were first written down on the earth and on scrolls by the prophets A through Z- and this was due to moon being on one day a circle, on another three quarters of a circle, on another a semicircle- etc. Each ratio of circle came to represent various inclinations of man towards darkness rape homicide infanticide perversion and bloodthirst. When furthest from the divine circle, the night-orb was most symbolic of man at his basest, dirtiest, most sick and most perverse. The closer the moon to a nothing, the closer could one inspect man's faults. Cycles of the moon were intimately bonded with cycles in perception- the changing hues in man's many-worlds. Fuller it got, fuller the perception of man-as-God. One could see and sense under its glowing spell the goodness of man. As it would shrink, the prophets discovered, let it be known that man's evil and sexual nature became more apparent to the eyes and to the ears and to the minds, which went and which go through cycles with rhythm closely attuned to the moon and to the tides- the timing of life's music there in the heartbeat, timing of bloodflow, pumping of organs and fluids, thrusts of the mammal during sex, the sound of the laugh of the sigh, of the walk and the talk and going-forth and the doing-this and the goings-on of man, who invented himself and is a mind and is nothing.
The different forms of moon also gave rise, in the minds of seeing men, to the science of arithmetic as a ripened and reasoned and seasoned fruit. Fractions, divisions, statistical thought, patterns and the design behind them, all a consequence of observance of the lunar God at his temple, that of night and open spaces.
An eclipse of either type a brief season of miniature-Hell, and indeed the origin in man's mind of Hell and its nature. In the dread-darkness of no sky-God, man beat man to dust with bone and rock. Man raped man into the very oasis at Africa's heart which furnished their happiness, and which was defiled during the madness of the red eclipse-season. Much was learned and nothing much was learned.
All other symbols and their importance function as a ratio of the above. Yet they are nothing. A symbol is nothing; a some-thing must symbolize itself. And if it does, then it, being a symbol, is a nothing...but even this is a ratio of the divine. Do not accept it without exploring the inside space for some time.
Additional writings, by the prophets
and
their students
Note: The insertion of interjected symbols such as the "?" is an aid to "direct perception" which as a name is only an approximation to the true nature of its corresponding idea.
.?..1.The ?professor/ angelik passiona/at his post, his post his professed love,
soul's love being
as always, 2. and wise, and he inspects and in turn
I inspect;
3.I speak of what I see, naturally-
4.so it is I see before me, tall and
old, grayed and
aged,
this semi-sacred, compassion-having, creative/conveying force and a man always intense, a secret-compiler
and
a sorcery-collector,
compendium-giver
presently doing this;
gives forceful forceful giving with riverflow outpour zest, western zeal eastern zealscape, westward, wells-up...
...gives force forwarding numbers wherein pleasures may be sought and touchfelt, headaches and therefrom project outways projected ourways the ratio of feelscapes of lustfurnished trueth- grimaces givenforth, lightningbolt lifeforce such as these asfollows-
555. brain-head-eyebrowing, ?brows thin/wise/cracked? skin reddening, somehow
senseless arching his backbone, then somedays the improper quasi-lotus as I see him take on, and I claim he's dead-set on the job
the job
the job, I said, of life, of life and its (life's again meant) bold semi-revealing self(s), up at front beautifinery blackboarding centerwise near the cosmos proper and far... situated spacey he is headspace handling he is handing down sacred scrolls to us and you his children...
6. This being a rough approximation of the lecture. Explained poorly, as it was not understood but shall be thought upon.
7....The argument: That I am a microcosm of the infinite. Bffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffakt...oioioioi!
interruption- noise, signal interference doesn't matter no mind no matter...
onward,
That it's all around a fractal, that I'm just the same as eternity when God's microscope gets closer down to my level.
The fractal pattern repeating ever upward. An infinite number of infinities, because I am infinite but let it be known/
be known that/
that there are an infinity of things that are just as infinite. Said it in knowing baritone with good intonation, well practiced well performed a master of rhetoric a great sexual tragical rapture-grin rosy wanton beingscape
that is he is dis as in discovered dis as in disaster... and pro as in program and pro as in proportionate and last at least...
germanic and saxonic and cola-grit toothset ratio-loving truthdecay milking milk-give song-singing cry
finally capitalism /
final fin eastern fin final///and allthat is being and a powerful mind. That that does not mind the strength-having strongest mind of all. Continue...
Courage, if needed, provided in capsule form. Content likely to upset. Proceed without caution.
8. The following is directly given from the scrolls, I believe. GDGDGD, fffff555
6372311 (this is your sacred number)
9. Communal Energy of the Select and Strongest Type.
Com. En. Evolv
Rep2- Com. En. Evolv
I had to scribble the sacred as I was in a rush/I am sorry.
A ghost of Man can give breathe/ deepcrust numbers/ incite "it" in you (it shall), and it shall incite you likewise to explore.
to explore that which is open
?
have seen have heard, have seen hav heard hav seen...
repeat, mantramilking, repeating I must learn mantismantra or must deny most decry with passion/a. I must learn or must deny with passion. a. ///You see? Must learn or must...
etc, etc
?- a divine symbol it says all nothing force night's grasp sidewayslook
A medicine-man account. Dr. So-Sfsa has written God-scrolls?medical passion poems, eternal blocks and creative springs ?of youth of energy of healing/// and paradoxically but fundamentally of death, of extreme decay. Of ugly ugly things. Modernists have pamphlets based on his teachings... geesus, capital is capital is
one more:
Tap into this source with your intuit powers alone, no more unneeded info. given. Discipline and great psychical and metacognitive practice is required. The dollar symbol $ is not always enough, though it's usually enough. We practice we preach.
The elements are races restricted, dominant...
I do mean the elements, mean the elements.
Though this being but a sketch, an approx. a ratio-
Now, you, Spring Being... from Pan's brain. (Pan's Psychic)Test/from you sex from your myth, your mystic, dystopian mollusk to molding alone, meatpacked folding tone
milking brain draining/drain, more Mystery Pill....... my BlueBoy. Sit still.
Given a face, as a task, plot out the expression.
mathematically model the movement of Man's expression we gave (the conscious scrolls did). Deliberately moving in mind and mistake. Now
in looking inward outward we'll see...
in looking inward outward you'll see.
Trance can be approached with a healthy heart a receptive mind a curious soul...
but
Christ, demonic approaching darkness fasted hard edge- a vision? thinks the pale emaciated man.
I claim (we claim)- Beauty will be given in its most exotic and cosmical and misleadingly demonic forms. Thank the Lords for such a gift! Some prayer is wanted today, is it not? Ask yourself this. Look inward. What is it that you see?
Part 2
The Guide.
The Rose.
"This is a rose," said the Guide. It is commonplace that the Guide tells us things.
"Look at us," said Caroline, "we look like children." I laughed at her.
"This is called a rose," said the Guide. It is a common thing that the Guide repeats all lessons.
"Look at us, John," said Caroline, "we look like fools, don't we?" I ignored all her nagging and fell like a drunk prophet into the endless flowerbed, stretched before us. Caroline looked at me. She could never let herself go.
"This is what men call a rose," said the Guide. Now I really knew what the Guide meant, from my spot on the ground.
"Ask me a question," I said. Then the voice broke through.
"What is the world?" asked my Guide and my wise and gentle teacher.
"Beautiful," I said. Then the student became the master and I looked upon the world with new eyes and I saw that Caroline was a youth without wisdom and I saw what to do.
"What do those eyes see, John?" asked Caroline as I stood up.
"This is a rose," said the Guide.
Part 3
There was a time during which fog-enshrouded strangeness lived well as a psychological constant. Strange things happened to people. Having dreams in the womb and outside, you were just a baby.
When you were a baby- an ancient man on his raft floated on down the river into the ocean. (Turbulence into ever-increasing turbulence). Having been asleep, and having been a deep sleeper, it was only as he was thrust into ocean-waters that he awoke. So when he awoke he was horrified to see he was in the middle of a great sea. Fear overtook his body's heart. And there it was that the old and ancient man let his vocals outward and there it was he screamed and a piercing scream it was.
Came a whale: "yrtylpythlyyrtylllpythllnossa?"
The man: "Which tongue is it you speak?"
Came the selfsame whale: "English, same tongue as yours, thou bastard foolish man. I said nonsense to you."
"Why?" said the man.
"Because you gave out nonsense, choosing to scream with bile and force and such and suchlike when you gave your call. No reason. No English," said the great and massive ancient whale.
The man took the whale's point and then minutes later forgot it and forgot all reasonings, as was his nature. He babbled nonsense and the whale laughed belly-laughs. Then the whale left.
The ancient man was alone and the sea was vast.
Now find in your heart the man's fate.
Part 4
Groups.
Let it be known that minds will tend towards grouping and this is the path that gives rise to groups.
Then there were the feline dominators who like your modern ants enslaved the somehow similar (to eyes which are quite apart from either). But the difference could be seen without saying precisely what was different, to either master or slave. The slaves being learned men.
A man- just a baby- on a river kneehigh or waistward never a lick never a notch never higher. And the sons of all your topmost and higheststanding, in the group of master Felinus domesticus, these youth stumbled upon this questionable man-baby. To which world he was then given and to those cats he was given as their own.
Now it is a characteristic of your mind not only to group, but also to divide specifically into two. The opposite doctrine, your mind a receptor of all false and invented dualities. Thus there is fate, predetermination and opposing this chaos, randomness, no greater plan. Your mind imposes its rules on the naked reality that is exposed before you.
Thus it was due to fate that the men were chosen to be led to the promiseland. Ha. Ha ha. Ha haha.
A more direct version of the above-All truth-seekers are dressers of truth. Designers of dress. Subsequence-inititiated/Dressers of truth, secondly. Make nude reality their plaything. Tailor to it/ so that it may be hidden someways/ so that its genitals may be hidden/onward wisdom
part 5
6372311
6372311
hint: numbers may occupy "intuit" spaces, and reach or trickle upwards towards the upward-pointed arrow of your programs.
6372311
hint: dualities are either real or they aren't. Don't fret/ this is playful/ I have said playful, but dread deadly serious still someways some sum so so so/ so on
What is the function of opposites in our language and mind?
Is it A. or B. ? ? ? ? ?
A. on the one hand, B. on the other
A on one hand
B the other
options
Some parts of you want to die. You will ask less of the Everything when you go from activity to blank, inanimate...
The universe is against even the plants.
The plants and you are still precious.
Approximation of the sense doctrine given forth-
Sound
it is very close to nothing. Get an idea of what nothing really is...
nothing more can be found through others on this topic. Discover. Inward, outward. Explore. Create. Dead oneday whatis/ahead.
To repeat the certain at intervals certain, with decomposition traits, rapid downregulation of brain-world internal world-universe- just the connection the cosmos upon sight said upward bare blank...
We follow blind. Our ears our eyes
egos souls
ratios
numbers texts
rituals sex
wisdom death
craving search eating fulfilling becoming we become (Is it not sad and typical to reduce the divinity of constant becoming to the "we become" form?)
And last we were given by spirit's soul's all/and's
by this by nothing's
by our-self's
by God's
by the God's we were at last given/givethanks/give-thankful
...
these dictates...
Every day feels different. Some days I like this, some days I don't. oh well; at least it's different every day.
1. People who change aren't true to themselves
2. People who do not change aren't true to themselves
3. People who change were not true to themselves
4. People who do not change were not true to themselves
5. People who changed were not true to themselves
6. People who changed were true
but
not to themselves
7. Those who will be true to themselves are not by default true to themselves
8. Some people are "true to themselves"
9. Some people are "true"- to themselves
10. You aren't true to yourself, you've changed
11. No one is true to their "selves"
12. Everybody changes
13. Nobody changes
And it ended in likeways properset form/s, but there is ahead of ours of our undertop self end-naught contemplation time, further/forever more...
Part 0
A parable. He sets up his canvas upon legs. The artist does this again as he stares at the white
blank soon-to-be/something (a child prior to conception/a child alone in concept naught-actualized). Beyond this is the painting already vibrant (I assert art exists before the art-ist feigns novelty)- it is, this painting there/being, full-blossom, more beautiful than any of the artist's pale imitations.
He imitates again.
Later on...when the day gives way to its antithesis, he can't "go on" with the perspective...
"shit" he mutters in the cold dark air/ realizing it's that time, and how had he managed to lose track of things again?
He pulls his legs out of subsurface earth (those which held his raw material). He has been doing it all for years. He bites his silver mustache and worries...
but he doesn't worry about the true, truer, truest disturbance.
I say: Never mind, you, never mind the technical, day-to-evening usual banter, I say. I would advise this landscape-painter///that what was spoken.
(Continuing)...instead, look at that which is most pressing/ an artist without art. An artist without art, most pressing a problem. A problem to be dealt with, an artist without his art. How absurd. Yet he ignores, the painter the artist the man, ignoring ignores the meaningless nature of his so-called vocation...
and takes it all seriously, biting that well-groomed dim silver mustache, and hear me.
He invents problems and so do I; that is a problem.
Life
muddle-mind and spittum outward ugly
vegetation outrage minded, mental
dirted dirty and soil dirty mud-handed
hand and handled soil, soiled outrage
raging rage and outward, ugly garden
vegetation snipped
the old man
dirt, gloves
his garden
Death
A parable.
"Now that it is dark, quite dark
and you are 3000+ miles from home...
...and your mind even more expansive
yes, more than can be described by number...
we should disintegrate our wills...
and fly/ as mere lifeless rock
through nature's gorgeous space."
Now this is what I heard an astronaut say. He said it to no one, the man was naked in delirium. Significantly distressed.
It's hard to imagine space with the stars and empty vibes till you go there. But imagine this most ancient setting...given its completion...in my perception...completed by this figure...of delirious/talkative astronaut type...Gorgeous
There is a Nazi Space Complex in mechanic fascist life. From the outside, its identity is indicated by a sensual sexy swastika. Rainbow advert modern swastika....sensual, sexy
...now, on the interior of the quite advanced complex/ situation, we imagine, is much different.
On his personal Bicycle Day- Adolf Hitler rode on his bike of the glorious Third Reich, and tripped heavy on LSD absorbed...from laboratory/through tender sensing skin. Figures and colors, conceptions/ideals...
...Now/it is this leadership, historical revision consciousness program stored on Nazi floppy-discs in outer space for reload/for distribution...
The endless death and rebirth of Adolf Hitler, just a program punch, in buttons. Nazis knowing: space, numbers, the mind.
This just in: A loop, a
sound sensing loop on earth...
back on earth.
Back on earth...
A sound loop
loop
loop
constant
The earthlings (we're all humans but we haven't all of us our feet upon dirt soil hard earth) they invented machinery time in time out.
When two human animals or more have base sordid fucks till fluid is lining the stretch of dirty base floor- oh see how they thrust rhythms so primal...they moan and fuck and it is done in the most complex of machinery.
"Orgasmik!" The French whore declares. Orgasmik, indeed...
The machinery advanced. All of it. Pristine floor conditions, giant robot arm leverage system, sterilized water, a smooth bureaucracy.
Communistas or miniature Jesuses could do nothing against the irrational impulse fuck humping thrust/ sweat, sweating/ dirt, disgust...upon the once clean precise pristine machine floors...
As programs
As programs of
As programs of highly advanced consciousnesses are dealt with, upon our beloved one-time-home EARTH, some beastly man (communista bureaucrat / sordid vile vomit animal), slices at his own bottom lip with an apple-carving-knife/ till here comes forth a blackened inhuman stream. Black and inhuman...stream...if you must know, a communist, a vomit animal...
She kisses him and sucks his blood. Let me have your cunt, he spits blood at her, gropes/grabs. Complex machinery.
Back in space/ things are looking up...
Fellows of ours are singing sweetly. Though they are sexual they are singing outside sex and softspoken still sweetly, this their serenade.
To hear sounds through space is to experience bliss...
To achieve nirvana, I hastily remark...
We all smile.
I'm dealing with vibes here. And vibes are just malleable and clay. And in the deepest depths of outer space this still holds.
Do you hear? Do you see? I ask my children. I want to instill in them, the Zest.
They are devilish bosom, like...like young sapwise tender sucklings...I reduce my self to an animal...and they reduce their minds, their bodies, their bodyandmind- to animals/to insects/ no, to mere rocks, floating aimlessly, float aimless through space. I have no free will, I fuck them on the metal and in the no-gravity air, airy air, in spaces, in space, we are thereby liberated. This most advanced and complex of machinery.
Try counting all the stars at once, she says. There are deities in space. A thunderous rumble throughout.
No-gravity, so our emissions our bodily fluids float through the air...it is our juices our cum.
The narcotics program, in space.
The system of castration, in space.
Noise, in space.
The relation of space to time.
And of course that most advanced of machinery: the dread Nazi Complex, swastika-enabled and sensual sexual etc.
Josef M. Josef Mengele, merely M, at whim, here he is
M. has uploaded the linguistic thought-mobile of a gypsy onto his machine. He tortures it and produces, through fascist science and magickz practice...a system, a systematic means of doing it, doing torture-routines...The mind is reducing the mind to a bloody war with itself...He laughs.
On Bike Day.
On Bike Day.
On Bike Day- is ancient earthling Hitler worshipped. He comes back to life and then dies. He comes all over/ he comes as people die. The Nazis, floating through space, are sexually liberated. Fascists fucking homoerotic, playing silly Hitler jizz-games. They all- they with their swastikas/ they wanna fuck their fuhrer. Jizz on the slick, tile-machinery...Nazi Complex in space a technological wonder...or little more than a fuckfest...
Our vision turned purple, turned to purple in space...as our wills disintegrate in accordance with the one will of some mental/cognitive/psychic Deity. We see our birth our childhood we are no more.
Fragments:
When one is at a sudden instant forced to perceive their own crucifix as it stands erect- one must run.
sometimes all you can do to avoid the tragic and cog nit ive beauty lost, the trage-dee
&
this, at x1, forever lost'/'/'/'/
Your smile you smile/ and declare, 'memories r im
portant'
...
erotomania, erotomania, the rotten mania's all over (absynthia).
eroto
mania
erotical
mania
Rotten maniacs...all over it...is finding its mania
is finding our mania finding in mania
Then/ as man rots, he erots the erotic as thy neighbor, Rod / Rodik
How the mania. eroto rota roto...tota mania...
Fall over now on your knees.
one's knees...
Wednesday.
Wednesday was the worst day of my life.
Thursday.
Thursday was the best day of my life.
Today.
Today is Friday though...just a relatively average day...with some positives + some negatives - a normal day. But I mention it anyway, out of respect.
Friday.
Friday, today, had the courage to follow the worst and best day of my life
and today has made no attempts to stand out...
It is a day.
1. (Smashing the bi-phonetik scoot parade was no easy task) - what does this mean?
...Amy1, at which point, Amy Amy...
At which point we forced ourselves up and got our wits about us.
Always good getting your wits about us, or our his or her or its wits... about them, or us, or what else it might be, and/ and whoever or whatever you are (will become?)?
...Amy2, at which point * etc, etc...
At another point insert a quote...
Here it is: "------------------------------------------------"
Quoted for truth- wise men and women and animals they will agree they will tend to agree, agree
2. Some times it is dangerous to read.
Insert reasons.
1. _________________
2. _____________________
3. ____________________________
4. ____________
5. _______
And---- assure yourself this is true...
3. On the attainder of wisdom
the thesis: that wisdom cannot be bought nor sold, nor still is wisdom a commodity, etc, etc,
What can be learned from this?
How to be wise?
Thanks for asking!
4. Why '?' s are beautiful creatures and what have you.
I have put before you a processional march of ? s
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Note that the ground beneath their feet (their feet are periods) happens to be shaky. The poor miserable bastards are doomed are doomed to stand on shaky ground.
And it's a lot of just ? ? ?
? ?
What's that got to do w/ this w/ that?
? ? ?
5. A conversation can be had
"I've been drinking lots of tea," Alex says, nervously shaking and crying.
The other person has been there since, oh, last Wed. or, um, or before/ now would you believe that?
6. I deserve better than this.
7.
Epilogue: Parable. Waste noth, said the instigator. And that's all he said. His lab coat was a cut above the rest. Mark sighed and gave a dreary response, perhaps a half-dead yessir or rather yes, sir. And he turned off the microphone, at which point the instigator faded into in two a dream. Though, not a distaaaaaant dream...
one that lingers, a dream that lingers and nibbles mmmmmm tock tttssssshhhh...nibbles at your brain-matter...
The brain emerged from its sleep. 'The whole affair's turned foul,' it thought (and pulsed w/ heat/ and gushed fluid).
'I'll say,' returned Mark, who was getting sticky hot and removal of labcoat sequences following willing through freedoms...He hated himself. Himself and the research he conducted. But it was with a laugh, and he found himself stuttering and joking.
The hallways outside the self-contained, conditionally fine-tuned room where Mark sat sluggish, these were thin hallways/ by most standards. But the funders- whoever they were- wanted it that way. They said in the contract, didn't they, they wanted it slick, sleek/ and professional. It had been developed so the halls were clinical/ and a bright dread white...The inaudible sound frequencies on eternal loop kept the research team on edge. Complacency meant death.
Prophet song:
I don't believe in politics
I don't believe in magick tricks
I don't believe in 666
I don't believe in a mystical fix
But if I say one thing I might mean another...
That's the human's tongue's way...
And if I hate your spoilt guts I might call you brother
So, what can you discern, or learn, from all that I may say?
I believe in politics
I believe in magick tricks
I believe in 666
I believe in a mystical fix
Now I guess- I just suggest
I guess I must
suggest...
But it's really up to you?
Your world is up to you?
suggest
Now- think this thought through...
And tell me, tell me what is true...
Words
Words translate to you...
A bridge from me to you?
I don't believe in history
I don't believe in mystery
I believe in history
I believe in mystery
I believe in sex liberation
I believe in my sensations
I don't believe in sex liberation
I don't believe in my sensations
A bridge can/cannot be built
this text a push in a certain way...
looking within, next step
are you a gate, a fortress?
You can penetrate
Diffusion across boundaries...
You know what to do, what to finding what to find...
final but not final for life
the word of God-Deity-Divine as a news report by Man...
...3 0 clock in the afternoon / and I'm sitting here, reporting to whoever's listening...whoever has the guts to listen...'s my here-and-now broadcast by necessity, folks. My soul's inclination / here it is...Live.
You all have doubtless heard about the new lifeform they discovered, they're running tests on it, you know all about that. Its um- been all over, all over the reports. Of course, they keep some aspects hidden, closeted. But...I got the facts, ready to report it all...unlike the paid-off, jerk-off govt. cunts...Now...Ready? ? ?
Tentative conclusion by imperfection:
Sometimes the illusion is just as good and it benefits you to lie to yourself; then the lie graduates to truth and you've solved every problem in the world.
This is not the word of the Gods.
Part 1
This is the word of the Gods.
A prayer given partially in English with undefinable holy words to invoke the Divine:
Heaven's Anu-daryth-tantha-tanu
num 6372311, in Time's num
under percept of moon begin the
sounds, yos-costume, lunatamatha...
Give us thy ritual beatings!
Rhythm in all-tongue, Anu, agin
Runith, scribe Anu-daryth-tantha
Love, death, love
We love, death, noth
An appeal to Pan from the same scrolls:
That that does not noth
Drink o'er omen d'moth
Germanicus the Latins might
Pretty Pan, slut of our night
The Roman the mythos the junk
Pan smell us, the post-mortal funk
Immortals smell noth like man
The dance and the devyl d'Pan
Stoic, we have our wine
Stoic, we have our wine
Amen
We men
Amen
On the origin of all things and all nothings:
First, it is said that as one can walk the earth and end in the same spot, and there can through this happening emerge the idea that space is cyclic and circles round-
as one can do this, one can through spirit's percept-amgiven- with Godeyeing surrender-of-flesh percepts-
see the following: that time is no line pointed oneways but a loop. Time is nothing but rhythms and the movement of waves and souls. And this musical movement could not have come about at once from no time at all- thus time reaches its starting point as a loop as a circle- and time has begot time time and time again. As is the earth, the circumference of which, when crossed, yields the starting location, so is space/ so is space, in the abstract, and as is space in the abstract- so is time. But time is already abstract, can scarcely be abstracted further. Time is in genderbending sexual union with sound and pulses. Roughly, time is God. The rhythm of the pan, a polyrhythm, is its own father and mother and child and lover. It knows and does not know itself, itself being God. Time exists only at the mercy of its circular design. The apocalypse is always because time always approaches its end, the end of the loop, whereon the circle-momentum energy of the time-at-end gives semen-upon-egg genesis of itself. Thus the end of time is in course/and/ has always begot the beginning of time- which has at its core the prospect-into-necessity/ divine certainty/ of its own destruction- and the end of the world is always but things will come again.
Of the world and of time and of origins- truths even deeper and truer than this can be given to any soul- there will be rituals of peeling eggshells, unearthing the dead to see them as they are, all of which comes down to drinking of the holy drink...whatever and however that drink might be and wherever/ which spot in space in time the drink is obtained for ritual sacrament.
At x1 of the time-circle, the ratios of time and space are blossomed into jungles of eyepatch over eye not wounded.
It is in this ratio of truth's conception that the mind has its origin.
For the mind is nothing but the painting of the ocean- the mind, more clearly, more truly, the mind is nothing but a perversion of the cyclic and eternal-loop nature of time (God). The mind therefore is to be gotten rid of. Awareness always has at its core the perennial mistake-mechanism. The mind is time- a perception of time is time perceiving itself, roughly- and roughly, it is also a ratio of truth that time is all.
You can understand the senses as brute perversions- defiled versions- of the original time on its rhythmic flow through itself. The loop structure of the eternal time-design manifests its self-reference, self-activation, self-stimulation- as that awareness of itself that is mind. Again, let it be said that mind in its self-reference origin near the origin of time itself in the self-defeating self-repeating loop- mind is a murky falsehood- it imposes judgement- it imposes division- it imposes lines- it invents a geometry of truth- it invents a politics of all- it fails to see that there is nothing to see, and in seeing the opposite, sees nothing.
First there was senseless darkness- but a faint emerging sense must have been emerging faint, you see- for otherwise, how could it be perceived that there even was a darkness? Time was beginning to know itself, as it always falls into, this step, this sequence, this here there at the beginning of its circle, yet again. Faint a patch not yet an eye sees less than seeing, only slight. The movement from not-mind to mind is precious, golden, the stuff of orgasm and death. This is your birth, it shall be said, closer to the truth than your human birth from your mother's womb, but still the beginning of falsehood. Falsehood is not false as you might understand it. Your entire world is all-truth and all-false at once. Mind simply is false. Awareness must be only a cheap copy of the truth, which is time, which is circle-time-structure, which is not-mind. Mind exists as part of the everything-truth, understand. But not as its sensations and concepts and percepts stand in relation to each other- the falseness and perversion of truth thereby created crumbles as the effect of its own falseness. While mind is- it is not. Don't think your way into this thought- for it is not a thought to begin with. In time, mind shall dissipate.
After its origins involving the faint perception of a darkness- time as mind began to divide its self-image, imposing false boundaries. Darkness-sensing the first division, a break at the beginning of the loop. Evolution- not in Darwin's sense- is then kick-started again and again. The five-senses (a ratio in pentagram-form of time-as-all) come out of this ether, and space is abstracted from what it is- that is, time- into a false concept (which nonetheless is utterly part of the truth, because the falseness of concepts is their own deathbed). From the darkness, this primordial senseless nothing being sensed, emerged the first imagery- being seen by time the dance of purplish yellowish pinkish bluish smoke. Vibrant lights, symbols, and things became the world-as-men-see-it, this hazy sensory living-space, ideaspace, symbol-haven, ratio-of-truth, and man in his body and form in "space" came forth.
Mind imposes further divisions. It divides itself into different bodies. Thus, the person that you are is a perversion/ a watering-down of mind-in-general- and mind-in-general, in turn, is a perversion of the eternal flow and looped-circle of time (God). Psychic bonding is the breaking down of the fine-tuned division of man-as-individual- a getting-closer to the not-aware that all craves and through its "craving" actually reaches this not-aware, further in the loop. And death is the split of meta-time (mind) from time-in-itself and naked- this being the original split and origin of falsification and judgement.
Death is the collapse of divide. When all men, all animals, all plants, all specks of consciousness, of that-which-is-aware-of-self-in-general- dissipate into that darkness which is called death and fade into the faint perception of the darkness nearly the same as the darkness faintly sensed at mind's cataclysmic origin- and, from there fade into no perception at all just as a star in the sky goes out and twinkles no more- then time/all/God, without the suffering of mind, will carry out its cycle as truth obscured by no senses. The energy that was once mind but now exists strange-state as truth as not-mind; this, it shall be said, this is in a way the moment behind the propulsion of time to its time's circle's loop's finish. Time dies and does the phoenix-dance into itself and does the amoeba-split into itself...thus the beginning of time begins...the beginning of time is the beginning of the end of time...the end of time is the beginning of the beginning of time...thus there are no beginnings and no ends in time. Beginnings and ends only emerge when mind plucks it all out of the cosmic woodwork.
But none of this can be true, as it only is a perversion of the true by your mind, by the mind that judges that perverts everything- but that it does this, that mind judges and perverts, is only a ratio of truth within your selfsame mind. And what can be known of intimate and timely structure?
Nothing is, as far as you can sense- but let it be known that the above approximation and divine ratio of the truth and of the structure- which claimed and then, to your senses, denied its own truth- is a seed planted inside this mind this knowing- with water, with sun, it may see the divine, as a ratio still but a truer and closer ratio, and collapse into the so-ordained-by-all state at the very end, and then...
On shapes and symbols
Out of the ether emerged the percept of the sun, the bright life-giver the sun-God.
The glowing orb, intuited the primitive God-seeking men, this was a river a sacrifice-worthy entity, an everything, a God...
The sun abstracted became the circle. The prophet A, his ears cut off, his tongue snipped short, his nose stunted growth, his fingertips bled off- this knower of God saw much. He saw, saw with his pinkish round eyes, more than others, who because they could feel fucked- who because they could hear played music- who because they could taste ate meat- who because they could smell smelt the decay of the flesh and the universe.
He worshipped the sun-God and then, in an act of prophecy, an act of divinity, an act of holy perception- he drew with his instrument the circle. The circle was the heart, symbolically, of the sun-God- that which He was in truth in His perfection.
And so on and so forth... and more,
The triangle had as its origins the prophet LMNOP- who, in his sage-eyed see-through percept-collecting, saw the structure of the soul of the Mountain-God his people worshipped, in all its naked holiness a three-prong structure of perfection, the equilateral triangle. The isosceles and scalene triangles emerged as symbols of the sacrilege/ of twisting the arms of God- the sin of sculpting a God in one's own image. Thus, these less perfect triangles were seen to be symbols of devils, vexes, evils and sufferings the world over...
And the moon, by the Lunatiks, those of all ages, came to be understood as a God, a counter-God to the sun-God, long worshipped by people of the earth as life-giver. The moon was not a loud God, but an ambient Being that lingered and expected no return for a large part of its cosmic career.
Shortly thereafter, the semicircle and related ratios and cutups of the divine circle, were first written down on the earth and on scrolls by the prophets A through Z- and this was due to moon being on one day a circle, on another three quarters of a circle, on another a semicircle- etc. Each ratio of circle came to represent various inclinations of man towards darkness rape homicide infanticide perversion and bloodthirst. When furthest from the divine circle, the night-orb was most symbolic of man at his basest, dirtiest, most sick and most perverse. The closer the moon to a nothing, the closer could one inspect man's faults. Cycles of the moon were intimately bonded with cycles in perception- the changing hues in man's many-worlds. Fuller it got, fuller the perception of man-as-God. One could see and sense under its glowing spell the goodness of man. As it would shrink, the prophets discovered, let it be known that man's evil and sexual nature became more apparent to the eyes and to the ears and to the minds, which went and which go through cycles with rhythm closely attuned to the moon and to the tides- the timing of life's music there in the heartbeat, timing of bloodflow, pumping of organs and fluids, thrusts of the mammal during sex, the sound of the laugh of the sigh, of the walk and the talk and going-forth and the doing-this and the goings-on of man, who invented himself and is a mind and is nothing.
The different forms of moon also gave rise, in the minds of seeing men, to the science of arithmetic as a ripened and reasoned and seasoned fruit. Fractions, divisions, statistical thought, patterns and the design behind them, all a consequence of observance of the lunar God at his temple, that of night and open spaces.
An eclipse of either type a brief season of miniature-Hell, and indeed the origin in man's mind of Hell and its nature. In the dread-darkness of no sky-God, man beat man to dust with bone and rock. Man raped man into the very oasis at Africa's heart which furnished their happiness, and which was defiled during the madness of the red eclipse-season. Much was learned and nothing much was learned.
All other symbols and their importance function as a ratio of the above. Yet they are nothing. A symbol is nothing; a some-thing must symbolize itself. And if it does, then it, being a symbol, is a nothing...but even this is a ratio of the divine. Do not accept it without exploring the inside space for some time.
Additional writings, by the prophets
and
their students
Note: The insertion of interjected symbols such as the "?" is an aid to "direct perception" which as a name is only an approximation to the true nature of its corresponding idea.
.?..1.The ?professor/ angelik passiona/at his post, his post his professed love,
soul's love being
as always, 2. and wise, and he inspects and in turn
I inspect;
3.I speak of what I see, naturally-
4.so it is I see before me, tall and
old, grayed and
aged,
this semi-sacred, compassion-having, creative/conveying force and a man always intense, a secret-compiler
and
a sorcery-collector,
compendium-giver
presently doing this;
gives forceful forceful giving with riverflow outpour zest, western zeal eastern zealscape, westward, wells-up...
...gives force forwarding numbers wherein pleasures may be sought and touchfelt, headaches and therefrom project outways projected ourways the ratio of feelscapes of lustfurnished trueth- grimaces givenforth, lightningbolt lifeforce such as these asfollows-
555. brain-head-eyebrowing, ?brows thin/wise/cracked? skin reddening, somehow
senseless arching his backbone, then somedays the improper quasi-lotus as I see him take on, and I claim he's dead-set on the job
the job
the job, I said, of life, of life and its (life's again meant) bold semi-revealing self(s), up at front beautifinery blackboarding centerwise near the cosmos proper and far... situated spacey he is headspace handling he is handing down sacred scrolls to us and you his children...
6. This being a rough approximation of the lecture. Explained poorly, as it was not understood but shall be thought upon.
7....The argument: That I am a microcosm of the infinite. Bffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffakt...oioioioi!
interruption- noise, signal interference doesn't matter no mind no matter...
onward,
That it's all around a fractal, that I'm just the same as eternity when God's microscope gets closer down to my level.
The fractal pattern repeating ever upward. An infinite number of infinities, because I am infinite but let it be known/
be known that/
that there are an infinity of things that are just as infinite. Said it in knowing baritone with good intonation, well practiced well performed a master of rhetoric a great sexual tragical rapture-grin rosy wanton beingscape
that is he is dis as in discovered dis as in disaster... and pro as in program and pro as in proportionate and last at least...
germanic and saxonic and cola-grit toothset ratio-loving truthdecay milking milk-give song-singing cry
finally capitalism /
final fin eastern fin final///and allthat is being and a powerful mind. That that does not mind the strength-having strongest mind of all. Continue...
Courage, if needed, provided in capsule form. Content likely to upset. Proceed without caution.
8. The following is directly given from the scrolls, I believe. GDGDGD, fffff555
6372311 (this is your sacred number)
9. Communal Energy of the Select and Strongest Type.
Com. En. Evolv
Rep2- Com. En. Evolv
I had to scribble the sacred as I was in a rush/I am sorry.
A ghost of Man can give breathe/ deepcrust numbers/ incite "it" in you (it shall), and it shall incite you likewise to explore.
to explore that which is open
?
have seen have heard, have seen hav heard hav seen...
repeat, mantramilking, repeating I must learn mantismantra or must deny most decry with passion/a. I must learn or must deny with passion. a. ///You see? Must learn or must...
etc, etc
?- a divine symbol it says all nothing force night's grasp sidewayslook
A medicine-man account. Dr. So-Sfsa has written God-scrolls?medical passion poems, eternal blocks and creative springs ?of youth of energy of healing/// and paradoxically but fundamentally of death, of extreme decay. Of ugly ugly things. Modernists have pamphlets based on his teachings... geesus, capital is capital is
one more:
Tap into this source with your intuit powers alone, no more unneeded info. given. Discipline and great psychical and metacognitive practice is required. The dollar symbol $ is not always enough, though it's usually enough. We practice we preach.
The elements are races restricted, dominant...
I do mean the elements, mean the elements.
Though this being but a sketch, an approx. a ratio-
Now, you, Spring Being... from Pan's brain. (Pan's Psychic)Test/from you sex from your myth, your mystic, dystopian mollusk to molding alone, meatpacked folding tone
milking brain draining/drain, more Mystery Pill....... my BlueBoy. Sit still.
Given a face, as a task, plot out the expression.
mathematically model the movement of Man's expression we gave (the conscious scrolls did). Deliberately moving in mind and mistake. Now
in looking inward outward we'll see...
in looking inward outward you'll see.
Trance can be approached with a healthy heart a receptive mind a curious soul...
but
Christ, demonic approaching darkness fasted hard edge- a vision? thinks the pale emaciated man.
I claim (we claim)- Beauty will be given in its most exotic and cosmical and misleadingly demonic forms. Thank the Lords for such a gift! Some prayer is wanted today, is it not? Ask yourself this. Look inward. What is it that you see?
Part 2
The Guide.
The Rose.
"This is a rose," said the Guide. It is commonplace that the Guide tells us things.
"Look at us," said Caroline, "we look like children." I laughed at her.
"This is called a rose," said the Guide. It is a common thing that the Guide repeats all lessons.
"Look at us, John," said Caroline, "we look like fools, don't we?" I ignored all her nagging and fell like a drunk prophet into the endless flowerbed, stretched before us. Caroline looked at me. She could never let herself go.
"This is what men call a rose," said the Guide. Now I really knew what the Guide meant, from my spot on the ground.
"Ask me a question," I said. Then the voice broke through.
"What is the world?" asked my Guide and my wise and gentle teacher.
"Beautiful," I said. Then the student became the master and I looked upon the world with new eyes and I saw that Caroline was a youth without wisdom and I saw what to do.
"What do those eyes see, John?" asked Caroline as I stood up.
"This is a rose," said the Guide.
Part 3
There was a time during which fog-enshrouded strangeness lived well as a psychological constant. Strange things happened to people. Having dreams in the womb and outside, you were just a baby.
When you were a baby- an ancient man on his raft floated on down the river into the ocean. (Turbulence into ever-increasing turbulence). Having been asleep, and having been a deep sleeper, it was only as he was thrust into ocean-waters that he awoke. So when he awoke he was horrified to see he was in the middle of a great sea. Fear overtook his body's heart. And there it was that the old and ancient man let his vocals outward and there it was he screamed and a piercing scream it was.
Came a whale: "yrtylpythlyyrtylllpythllnossa?"
The man: "Which tongue is it you speak?"
Came the selfsame whale: "English, same tongue as yours, thou bastard foolish man. I said nonsense to you."
"Why?" said the man.
"Because you gave out nonsense, choosing to scream with bile and force and such and suchlike when you gave your call. No reason. No English," said the great and massive ancient whale.
The man took the whale's point and then minutes later forgot it and forgot all reasonings, as was his nature. He babbled nonsense and the whale laughed belly-laughs. Then the whale left.
The ancient man was alone and the sea was vast.
Now find in your heart the man's fate.
Part 4
Groups.
Let it be known that minds will tend towards grouping and this is the path that gives rise to groups.
Then there were the feline dominators who like your modern ants enslaved the somehow similar (to eyes which are quite apart from either). But the difference could be seen without saying precisely what was different, to either master or slave. The slaves being learned men.
A man- just a baby- on a river kneehigh or waistward never a lick never a notch never higher. And the sons of all your topmost and higheststanding, in the group of master Felinus domesticus, these youth stumbled upon this questionable man-baby. To which world he was then given and to those cats he was given as their own.
Now it is a characteristic of your mind not only to group, but also to divide specifically into two. The opposite doctrine, your mind a receptor of all false and invented dualities. Thus there is fate, predetermination and opposing this chaos, randomness, no greater plan. Your mind imposes its rules on the naked reality that is exposed before you.
Thus it was due to fate that the men were chosen to be led to the promiseland. Ha. Ha ha. Ha haha.
A more direct version of the above-All truth-seekers are dressers of truth. Designers of dress. Subsequence-inititiated/Dressers of truth, secondly. Make nude reality their plaything. Tailor to it/ so that it may be hidden someways/ so that its genitals may be hidden/onward wisdom
part 5
6372311
6372311
hint: numbers may occupy "intuit" spaces, and reach or trickle upwards towards the upward-pointed arrow of your programs.
6372311
hint: dualities are either real or they aren't. Don't fret/ this is playful/ I have said playful, but dread deadly serious still someways some sum so so so/ so on
What is the function of opposites in our language and mind?
Is it A. or B. ? ? ? ? ?
A. on the one hand, B. on the other
A on one hand
B the other
options
Some parts of you want to die. You will ask less of the Everything when you go from activity to blank, inanimate...
The universe is against even the plants.
The plants and you are still precious.
Approximation of the sense doctrine given forth-
Sound
it is very close to nothing. Get an idea of what nothing really is...
nothing more can be found through others on this topic. Discover. Inward, outward. Explore. Create. Dead oneday whatis/ahead.
To repeat the certain at intervals certain, with decomposition traits, rapid downregulation of brain-world internal world-universe- just the connection the cosmos upon sight said upward bare blank...
We follow blind. Our ears our eyes
egos souls
ratios
numbers texts
rituals sex
wisdom death
craving search eating fulfilling becoming we become (Is it not sad and typical to reduce the divinity of constant becoming to the "we become" form?)
And last we were given by spirit's soul's all/and's
by this by nothing's
by our-self's
by God's
by the God's we were at last given/givethanks/give-thankful
...
these dictates...
Every day feels different. Some days I like this, some days I don't. oh well; at least it's different every day.
1. People who change aren't true to themselves
2. People who do not change aren't true to themselves
3. People who change were not true to themselves
4. People who do not change were not true to themselves
5. People who changed were not true to themselves
6. People who changed were true
but
not to themselves
7. Those who will be true to themselves are not by default true to themselves
8. Some people are "true to themselves"
9. Some people are "true"- to themselves
10. You aren't true to yourself, you've changed
11. No one is true to their "selves"
12. Everybody changes
13. Nobody changes
And it ended in likeways properset form/s, but there is ahead of ours of our undertop self end-naught contemplation time, further/forever more...
Part 0
A parable. He sets up his canvas upon legs. The artist does this again as he stares at the white
blank soon-to-be/something (a child prior to conception/a child alone in concept naught-actualized). Beyond this is the painting already vibrant (I assert art exists before the art-ist feigns novelty)- it is, this painting there/being, full-blossom, more beautiful than any of the artist's pale imitations.
He imitates again.
Later on...when the day gives way to its antithesis, he can't "go on" with the perspective...
"shit" he mutters in the cold dark air/ realizing it's that time, and how had he managed to lose track of things again?
He pulls his legs out of subsurface earth (those which held his raw material). He has been doing it all for years. He bites his silver mustache and worries...
but he doesn't worry about the true, truer, truest disturbance.
I say: Never mind, you, never mind the technical, day-to-evening usual banter, I say. I would advise this landscape-painter///that what was spoken.
(Continuing)...instead, look at that which is most pressing/ an artist without art. An artist without art, most pressing a problem. A problem to be dealt with, an artist without his art. How absurd. Yet he ignores, the painter the artist the man, ignoring ignores the meaningless nature of his so-called vocation...
and takes it all seriously, biting that well-groomed dim silver mustache, and hear me.
He invents problems and so do I; that is a problem.
Life
muddle-mind and spittum outward ugly
vegetation outrage minded, mental
dirted dirty and soil dirty mud-handed
hand and handled soil, soiled outrage
raging rage and outward, ugly garden
vegetation snipped
the old man
dirt, gloves
his garden
Death
A parable.
"Now that it is dark, quite dark
and you are 3000+ miles from home...
...and your mind even more expansive
yes, more than can be described by number...
we should disintegrate our wills...
and fly/ as mere lifeless rock
through nature's gorgeous space."
Now this is what I heard an astronaut say. He said it to no one, the man was naked in delirium. Significantly distressed.
It's hard to imagine space with the stars and empty vibes till you go there. But imagine this most ancient setting...given its completion...in my perception...completed by this figure...of delirious/talkative astronaut type...Gorgeous
There is a Nazi Space Complex in mechanic fascist life. From the outside, its identity is indicated by a sensual sexy swastika. Rainbow advert modern swastika....sensual, sexy
...now, on the interior of the quite advanced complex/ situation, we imagine, is much different.
On his personal Bicycle Day- Adolf Hitler rode on his bike of the glorious Third Reich, and tripped heavy on LSD absorbed...from laboratory/through tender sensing skin. Figures and colors, conceptions/ideals...
...Now/it is this leadership, historical revision consciousness program stored on Nazi floppy-discs in outer space for reload/for distribution...
The endless death and rebirth of Adolf Hitler, just a program punch, in buttons. Nazis knowing: space, numbers, the mind.
This just in: A loop, a
sound sensing loop on earth...
back on earth.
Back on earth...
A sound loop
loop
loop
constant
The earthlings (we're all humans but we haven't all of us our feet upon dirt soil hard earth) they invented machinery time in time out.
When two human animals or more have base sordid fucks till fluid is lining the stretch of dirty base floor- oh see how they thrust rhythms so primal...they moan and fuck and it is done in the most complex of machinery.
"Orgasmik!" The French whore declares. Orgasmik, indeed...
The machinery advanced. All of it. Pristine floor conditions, giant robot arm leverage system, sterilized water, a smooth bureaucracy.
Communistas or miniature Jesuses could do nothing against the irrational impulse fuck humping thrust/ sweat, sweating/ dirt, disgust...upon the once clean precise pristine machine floors...
As programs
As programs of
As programs of highly advanced consciousnesses are dealt with, upon our beloved one-time-home EARTH, some beastly man (communista bureaucrat / sordid vile vomit animal), slices at his own bottom lip with an apple-carving-knife/ till here comes forth a blackened inhuman stream. Black and inhuman...stream...if you must know, a communist, a vomit animal...
She kisses him and sucks his blood. Let me have your cunt, he spits blood at her, gropes/grabs. Complex machinery.
Back in space/ things are looking up...
Fellows of ours are singing sweetly. Though they are sexual they are singing outside sex and softspoken still sweetly, this their serenade.
To hear sounds through space is to experience bliss...
To achieve nirvana, I hastily remark...
We all smile.
I'm dealing with vibes here. And vibes are just malleable and clay. And in the deepest depths of outer space this still holds.
Do you hear? Do you see? I ask my children. I want to instill in them, the Zest.
They are devilish bosom, like...like young sapwise tender sucklings...I reduce my self to an animal...and they reduce their minds, their bodies, their bodyandmind- to animals/to insects/ no, to mere rocks, floating aimlessly, float aimless through space. I have no free will, I fuck them on the metal and in the no-gravity air, airy air, in spaces, in space, we are thereby liberated. This most advanced and complex of machinery.
Try counting all the stars at once, she says. There are deities in space. A thunderous rumble throughout.
No-gravity, so our emissions our bodily fluids float through the air...it is our juices our cum.
The narcotics program, in space.
The system of castration, in space.
Noise, in space.
The relation of space to time.
And of course that most advanced of machinery: the dread Nazi Complex, swastika-enabled and sensual sexual etc.
Josef M. Josef Mengele, merely M, at whim, here he is
M. has uploaded the linguistic thought-mobile of a gypsy onto his machine. He tortures it and produces, through fascist science and magickz practice...a system, a systematic means of doing it, doing torture-routines...The mind is reducing the mind to a bloody war with itself...He laughs.
On Bike Day.
On Bike Day.
On Bike Day- is ancient earthling Hitler worshipped. He comes back to life and then dies. He comes all over/ he comes as people die. The Nazis, floating through space, are sexually liberated. Fascists fucking homoerotic, playing silly Hitler jizz-games. They all- they with their swastikas/ they wanna fuck their fuhrer. Jizz on the slick, tile-machinery...Nazi Complex in space a technological wonder...or little more than a fuckfest...
Our vision turned purple, turned to purple in space...as our wills disintegrate in accordance with the one will of some mental/cognitive/psychic Deity. We see our birth our childhood we are no more.
Fragments:
When one is at a sudden instant forced to perceive their own crucifix as it stands erect- one must run.
sometimes all you can do to avoid the tragic and cog nit ive beauty lost, the trage-dee
&
this, at x1, forever lost'/'/'/'/
Your smile you smile/ and declare, 'memories r im
portant'
...
erotomania, erotomania, the rotten mania's all over (absynthia).
eroto
mania
erotical
mania
Rotten maniacs...all over it...is finding its mania
is finding our mania finding in mania
Then/ as man rots, he erots the erotic as thy neighbor, Rod / Rodik
How the mania. eroto rota roto...tota mania...
Fall over now on your knees.
one's knees...
Wednesday.
Wednesday was the worst day of my life.
Thursday.
Thursday was the best day of my life.
Today.
Today is Friday though...just a relatively average day...with some positives + some negatives - a normal day. But I mention it anyway, out of respect.
Friday.
Friday, today, had the courage to follow the worst and best day of my life
and today has made no attempts to stand out...
It is a day.
1. (Smashing the bi-phonetik scoot parade was no easy task) - what does this mean?
...Amy1, at which point, Amy Amy...
At which point we forced ourselves up and got our wits about us.
Always good getting your wits about us, or our his or her or its wits... about them, or us, or what else it might be, and/ and whoever or whatever you are (will become?)?
...Amy2, at which point * etc, etc...
At another point insert a quote...
Here it is: "------------------------------------------------"
Quoted for truth- wise men and women and animals they will agree they will tend to agree, agree
2. Some times it is dangerous to read.
Insert reasons.
1. _________________
2. _____________________
3. ____________________________
4. ____________
5. _______
And---- assure yourself this is true...
3. On the attainder of wisdom
the thesis: that wisdom cannot be bought nor sold, nor still is wisdom a commodity, etc, etc,
What can be learned from this?
How to be wise?
Thanks for asking!
4. Why '?' s are beautiful creatures and what have you.
I have put before you a processional march of ? s
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Note that the ground beneath their feet (their feet are periods) happens to be shaky. The poor miserable bastards are doomed are doomed to stand on shaky ground.
And it's a lot of just ? ? ?
? ?
What's that got to do w/ this w/ that?
? ? ?
5. A conversation can be had
"I've been drinking lots of tea," Alex says, nervously shaking and crying.
The other person has been there since, oh, last Wed. or, um, or before/ now would you believe that?
6. I deserve better than this.
7.
Epilogue: Parable. Waste noth, said the instigator. And that's all he said. His lab coat was a cut above the rest. Mark sighed and gave a dreary response, perhaps a half-dead yessir or rather yes, sir. And he turned off the microphone, at which point the instigator faded into in two a dream. Though, not a distaaaaaant dream...
one that lingers, a dream that lingers and nibbles mmmmmm tock tttssssshhhh...nibbles at your brain-matter...
The brain emerged from its sleep. 'The whole affair's turned foul,' it thought (and pulsed w/ heat/ and gushed fluid).
'I'll say,' returned Mark, who was getting sticky hot and removal of labcoat sequences following willing through freedoms...He hated himself. Himself and the research he conducted. But it was with a laugh, and he found himself stuttering and joking.
The hallways outside the self-contained, conditionally fine-tuned room where Mark sat sluggish, these were thin hallways/ by most standards. But the funders- whoever they were- wanted it that way. They said in the contract, didn't they, they wanted it slick, sleek/ and professional. It had been developed so the halls were clinical/ and a bright dread white...The inaudible sound frequencies on eternal loop kept the research team on edge. Complacency meant death.
Prophet song:
I don't believe in politics
I don't believe in magick tricks
I don't believe in 666
I don't believe in a mystical fix
But if I say one thing I might mean another...
That's the human's tongue's way...
And if I hate your spoilt guts I might call you brother
So, what can you discern, or learn, from all that I may say?
I believe in politics
I believe in magick tricks
I believe in 666
I believe in a mystical fix
Now I guess- I just suggest
I guess I must
suggest...
But it's really up to you?
Your world is up to you?
suggest
Now- think this thought through...
And tell me, tell me what is true...
Words
Words translate to you...
A bridge from me to you?
I don't believe in history
I don't believe in mystery
I believe in history
I believe in mystery
I believe in sex liberation
I believe in my sensations
I don't believe in sex liberation
I don't believe in my sensations
A bridge can/cannot be built
this text a push in a certain way...
looking within, next step
are you a gate, a fortress?
You can penetrate
Diffusion across boundaries...
You know what to do, what to finding what to find...
final but not final for life
the word of God-Deity-Divine as a news report by Man...
...3 0 clock in the afternoon / and I'm sitting here, reporting to whoever's listening...whoever has the guts to listen...'s my here-and-now broadcast by necessity, folks. My soul's inclination / here it is...Live.
You all have doubtless heard about the new lifeform they discovered, they're running tests on it, you know all about that. Its um- been all over, all over the reports. Of course, they keep some aspects hidden, closeted. But...I got the facts, ready to report it all...unlike the paid-off, jerk-off govt. cunts...Now...Ready? ? ?
Tentative conclusion by imperfection:
Sometimes the illusion is just as good and it benefits you to lie to yourself; then the lie graduates to truth and you've solved every problem in the world.
This is not the word of the Gods.
]:
