you're a clever one, aren't you...
but I didn't expect anything less...
I'll give you a treat — for now;
but know... there's still one more barrier before you can get to the true gold in the chest.
The universe is a substratum of endless and infinite meaning, a canvas of immense and unfathomable vastness; and like any canvas, its greatest urge, its greatest desire, is to be written upon. All it wants is for the beings it has spawned to take up their hammers and chisels and carve out some new beauty, some new dimensionality hitherto unseen and unexperienced by the thing. This is all it wants! and this is what it rewards the most. It is always in the search for a new take, a new perspective, a new refraction of the eternal and infinite light that spawned it all.
Those who have thirsted for knowledge, for art, for insight know this feeling all too well — the burning desire to birth something new, to find some novel understanding. This is because we are not separate from the thing. We are the thing itself — tentacles cast out in exploration of the cosmic whole.
To conform, then, to meredly adhere and to renounce' one's capacity to transform, transmute, and create is to sell oneself absolutely short... it is to mute and narrow possibilities that run nigh on endless.
The greatest lie ever cast on humanity was the lie of the concreteness of the world around us, of our individual powerlessness to transform. We' ve been told we are naught but ants, dispensable extras in a story not of our own creation... But we are far from this. We are of the most powerful beings of the cosmos — for divinity has blown in us the power of creation. Genesis said it already: God, the universe, has created us in its own image.
It is easy to get caught up in the grim and frustrating reality of humanity once one has gotten intimations of this great lie. One can spend an entire life pinpointing and fretting over the ways in which we have been fettered and this scam cast, re-cast, and incessantly re-branded... Government, religion, culture... the list is endless... and even if one has the noblest of intentions, to spend one's life fighting these lies head on is to perpetuate them. As Philip K. Dick once said, "to fight the Empire is to be infected by its derangement". Brilliant.
The answer, the response to this pickle of a situation we are in, the way I see it, is simply to write. To write, to write, oh but to write! To disconnect from the whole discourse and simply formulate one's own! This culture, this modern reality we live in is merely one strand, one story, of infinitely many — so why not create the story one wants to create instead? Why not cast one's own net onto the infinity of the universe?
This is how the Empire falls — not by a frontal attack but by the silent dissent of its subjects. We overcome our situation by appealing to a larger force, by taking up the tools of our subjugation and using them for a transformation, a transmutation, of our own lives. I intimate that what we will find on the other side will be grander than anything we could have ever imagined when we started.
Everything is story — choose your own, write your own, live that which is the expression of your innermost.
Discourse in silence with the universe, activate the divine faculty you have been endowed with — your imagination, your will, your word.
We are all equally free, all equally powerful. Let no one ever tell you otherwise.
you want more, I can tel.l...
you've only begun to scratch the surface — but how deep can you go?
answer me this, and we'll see where the winds blow ;
what casts light but not as bright,
and in its might,
brings all madmen to life?
send me your response through the contact page,
and if correct, more mysteries, for you, await.