To seek the mystery that seems to beckon the grand symphony of enlightenment. Every turn and venture enhances the pioneer within your heart. To find the questions that play with you like a leaf on a stream or a hope in the hurricane of a dream. You paddle yourself on any surface that you are upon without reservation or fear to envelope. You try in vain to raise yourself higher in order to see beyond the barrier like a champion about to jump into the history of an athletic performance. You fall without mercy, and before you cry, your body has already struggled to continue its flight into the future dilemmas of a child warrior, who as yet has not learned to walk.
They hold you back from those staircases that tell you that there is more above and more beneath. You cry to them that you must understand but all you get is hugs and resistance to your nobility. You are a creature famished for knowledge but yet you are at times considered a mischief and a trouble. They put you in a cage that you can look through, while they throw your familiarities in with you until all the room is occupied by their opinions of what you like and who you are. Finally, you sit amongst the teddy bears and toys, crying for the arms that will release you from their laziness to chase you far from the playpen you have been sentenced to.
You need to rediscover why that thing rings and why that light stings. You hurry to the stairs and begin to climb until you reach the fourth terrace before you are caught, far away from that long hoped for destiny, where the grandest powers will be granted to you. For with them, you will prove to your tribe that they cannot hold you back from your journey, but they do, and will keep doing so without an explanation or even a sincere understanding that the cat's tail must be pulled for it waves in your face without apology or compromise. The images within the glass stare at you and you want to feel them but you are torn away from it because you have begun to be considered a barrier from the illusions your folk cling to, while you, the truest reality, falls from their favor in times like these.
You get tired and begin to cry tears of fatigue while you try to explain that all can be done in this exact moment, but, you are a small creator and your consciousness is unaware of itself while you don't even know that there is a gulf and an expanse between you and who you are meant to become. You are trying to grow wild but the gardeners are using shears that convince you that there are places that you don't belong. You are sheltered from the pains of life for you have been placed in a bubble that is transparent to you. You think you are free to experience, however, experiences have been chosen for you and all that you are learning is sterile, for it is within a vacuumed classroom that your studies are taught to you.
You will be bathed and cleansed like your mind is kept from the possibility of rash or reason. They love you and that is the excuse that is used to keep you out of trouble, before you get into a predicament that most will have to encounter in order to learn what self-protection is all about. You are too young to worry about that yet. Let the time come, though that phrase is a contradiction to the truth. There is time for everything but time cannot be played with, it can only be avoided by the grandest worship you are learning from those that proclaim their love for you. Denial is the master, for it will save them from watching you grow faster than their idealism can.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Part XVI - Stillness
You are captured by those moments when the light has been swept away by a magical spell called darkness. You are left alone in your crib for hours, with nothing to do but compromise with your condition. You can see your hands in front of you as they hold each other like frightened friends in a common dream. Through your mind plays the repeating messages that you are subjected to. You can feel the linen border on your comforter and it feels so soft that it becomes your protector when all is still and all you have is your muted consciousness. There are sounds off in the distance that appeal to you in some hard to understand reason. You cannot stop the tides of your senses as they continually fill your harbours and veins with the unexplainable.
The night is unending and you are sure that your tribe can be summoned if you wish to make it known that you are awake. However, you prefer to be left in this stillness for it has a comfortable feel to it. There is no beckoning, no specified ideals, no pieces of yourself being plucked away and no conditioning occurring. All you have to contend with is the meaning of all that is happening as your consciousness has been lulled to the point that your intellectual attention wavers with every new experience and entry of it into your expanding misunderstandings. Know that this is how you will be controlled, for misunderstanding needs to be silenced and it will be by some one else's interpretation.
You begin to chatter in a way that tells the others that you are content in your own presence. They read what you tell them themselves, for their interpretations have also been subjected to their needs to feel that your comfort is a reflection on their care for you. The circle of miscommunication has now been established and it will grow stronger as you are fitted into the available space that has been secured for you. In your mind you see it has nursing stations where you and the others suckle at the tits of confession because you have been taught with the fortification that your life depends on total compliance to the dispenser of the nutrition even though it may be toxic to your own consciousness.
The dancing shadows in your room play with each other in a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek, which one doesn't matter because their rituals are playful. Soon, however, they will become the monsters that circle your crib in menacing ways and unheard taunts. You may wimper now and then because fear slowly introduces itself in order to fasten on to that part of you which may remain ignorant for the entirety of your life. It will cut into you and the blood that runs from it will be a beckon for all those that need to secure themselves to you because they themselves have no strength to walk alone without the use of human crutches. You are left on your own to serve yourself with your own fashion of home cooking and your consciousness in its dulled condition is being force fed your own illusion.
The morning will come and the first voice that will greet you will say how good you've been for sleeping through the night without fussing. You are stapled to you crib by remarks such as this, because you are being made aware of the fact that all are separate individuals in the hours of sleep, but, that is only because the controllers need to rest themselves. Feel the warmth of the first one who lays you in their arms as they dislodge you from the rocket that casts you through the nights. You see your fading crib as you hang over the shoulder watching the past disappear the moments before you will be turned around and instantly asked to tie yourself into the present or what will be an invitation to the future. You are stranded on this island of forming conceptions.
The night is unending and you are sure that your tribe can be summoned if you wish to make it known that you are awake. However, you prefer to be left in this stillness for it has a comfortable feel to it. There is no beckoning, no specified ideals, no pieces of yourself being plucked away and no conditioning occurring. All you have to contend with is the meaning of all that is happening as your consciousness has been lulled to the point that your intellectual attention wavers with every new experience and entry of it into your expanding misunderstandings. Know that this is how you will be controlled, for misunderstanding needs to be silenced and it will be by some one else's interpretation.
You begin to chatter in a way that tells the others that you are content in your own presence. They read what you tell them themselves, for their interpretations have also been subjected to their needs to feel that your comfort is a reflection on their care for you. The circle of miscommunication has now been established and it will grow stronger as you are fitted into the available space that has been secured for you. In your mind you see it has nursing stations where you and the others suckle at the tits of confession because you have been taught with the fortification that your life depends on total compliance to the dispenser of the nutrition even though it may be toxic to your own consciousness.
The dancing shadows in your room play with each other in a game of tag or hide-n-go-seek, which one doesn't matter because their rituals are playful. Soon, however, they will become the monsters that circle your crib in menacing ways and unheard taunts. You may wimper now and then because fear slowly introduces itself in order to fasten on to that part of you which may remain ignorant for the entirety of your life. It will cut into you and the blood that runs from it will be a beckon for all those that need to secure themselves to you because they themselves have no strength to walk alone without the use of human crutches. You are left on your own to serve yourself with your own fashion of home cooking and your consciousness in its dulled condition is being force fed your own illusion.
The morning will come and the first voice that will greet you will say how good you've been for sleeping through the night without fussing. You are stapled to you crib by remarks such as this, because you are being made aware of the fact that all are separate individuals in the hours of sleep, but, that is only because the controllers need to rest themselves. Feel the warmth of the first one who lays you in their arms as they dislodge you from the rocket that casts you through the nights. You see your fading crib as you hang over the shoulder watching the past disappear the moments before you will be turned around and instantly asked to tie yourself into the present or what will be an invitation to the future. You are stranded on this island of forming conceptions.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Part XV - The Ointment
You are now controlled by time. A vine that will move you through all the spectrums of humanity. It will be encouraging, unyielding and compelling but it will drain away a grain at a time and you will forever be its puppet if you fail to win your freedom from its strings. Those who hold you closely cast its sands in your eyes with comments, gestures, and human rituals that signify the rights of passage. Know that these are the symbols of belonging and further proof that you are being quickly moved from who you were meant to be. Fault them not for they are far more lost than you are, they know the grains are draining while they secure the strings even tighter to themselves, because fear to leave the compliant may mean walking alone.
You are feeling sensations that tell you that their idealism is there to support and comfort you. You gladly thank them for your dissection with smiles, coos and grips. There is payment for the atrocities being performed on you, that are the offspring of human frailty and human fears. You are being severed, but implanted at the cut of separation they use a substance known as Love. This is a major compensation for true compliance to the strings. As you lose more and more of yourself, more and more Love is given to you as an antiseptic, a hallucinogenic, and a pain suppressor. Be one of them and you will never be alone is what this application of Love is for.
You are now free to wonder the expansiveness of your limited awareness, and all that you see shines in your mind like the golden treasures on the face of complexity. It bewilders you and investigation needs to be engaged with, for even though you are travailing swiftly through the unimaginable, in yourself is a need to have an answer. But, you will learn in the expansiveness of time that details are needed to have a glimpse at clarity. For in these first sights of creativity there is fallacy. You are being lied to, and your innocence is the price you pay for accepting love, for believing their definition of who you are.
You droll a potion that feels like an elixir to the oldest ones that hold you. They are lost in your eyes for you posses promise and youth. These are the factors that have escaped them and all that is left is wonder and amazement that they were once like you until life got a hold of them. So it is sadly ironic that these are the ones who insist that traditions are more important than who you are and who you will be. These hands will roll you up in the old recipe and slowly bake you in their image. Blame them for they were lost to themselves and they feel that the same must be done unto you. Blame them for never following their own answers.
Yes, coherence is hindered by Love, the tribe, and its rituals. All is being applied to you and all you can do is fuss and flail. You are their babe and you are their invention and you are becoming someone that may crawl the crowded road destined for that place that does not exist. That temple where all feel they will find themselves, but what is there, are wolves who feed on what your tribe left of the true you. Your education has begun and all you want to know is what is around the corner. You can't even walk but you have been taken and hidden from yourself. Remember your crime, you dared to be born.
You are feeling sensations that tell you that their idealism is there to support and comfort you. You gladly thank them for your dissection with smiles, coos and grips. There is payment for the atrocities being performed on you, that are the offspring of human frailty and human fears. You are being severed, but implanted at the cut of separation they use a substance known as Love. This is a major compensation for true compliance to the strings. As you lose more and more of yourself, more and more Love is given to you as an antiseptic, a hallucinogenic, and a pain suppressor. Be one of them and you will never be alone is what this application of Love is for.
You are now free to wonder the expansiveness of your limited awareness, and all that you see shines in your mind like the golden treasures on the face of complexity. It bewilders you and investigation needs to be engaged with, for even though you are travailing swiftly through the unimaginable, in yourself is a need to have an answer. But, you will learn in the expansiveness of time that details are needed to have a glimpse at clarity. For in these first sights of creativity there is fallacy. You are being lied to, and your innocence is the price you pay for accepting love, for believing their definition of who you are.
You droll a potion that feels like an elixir to the oldest ones that hold you. They are lost in your eyes for you posses promise and youth. These are the factors that have escaped them and all that is left is wonder and amazement that they were once like you until life got a hold of them. So it is sadly ironic that these are the ones who insist that traditions are more important than who you are and who you will be. These hands will roll you up in the old recipe and slowly bake you in their image. Blame them for they were lost to themselves and they feel that the same must be done unto you. Blame them for never following their own answers.
Yes, coherence is hindered by Love, the tribe, and its rituals. All is being applied to you and all you can do is fuss and flail. You are their babe and you are their invention and you are becoming someone that may crawl the crowded road destined for that place that does not exist. That temple where all feel they will find themselves, but what is there, are wolves who feed on what your tribe left of the true you. Your education has begun and all you want to know is what is around the corner. You can't even walk but you have been taken and hidden from yourself. Remember your crime, you dared to be born.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Part XIV - Circumcision
All around you is glaring while you are shaped into what you are meant to be. Know that this being you are becoming will chase you down simply, for you will not be able to hide from the label that has been appointed to your soul. You cry as you are held by those who have you in their illusions. Your perceptions are plentiful though you are not equipped with the intellectual coherence to understand all that is moulding you. Your name is cooed to you, whispered, and pledged but the name you are hearing hasn't yet been approved by all your senses. You will acknowledge it as a reference to you but do not get so attached to it that it begins to tell you what the world is all about. From naivety will come the ability to question and inquiry is what will save you from allowing your consciousness to forgo the beginning of its dissection.
Taste your mother's milk while you suckle at her breast, feel the purest substance you will ever know as it runs down your body to be formed into the exploding cells that expand your advance towards the horizons. Watch her lips falling on your brow as you feel the closeness of another. Know you are being humanized and welcomed into the flock of the flightless angels. Listen to the stories of who you are, and know you are the answer to their prayers and fantasies. Your eyes are hazy but they are perfect for the arrival of the interpretation of what you mean to all that surround you. Know that these are not wishes, but expectations of who you are and what degree of salvation you have given them. You are their messiah and you cannot even speak yet. You are their god, but you are being painted by their hands, not yours.
As you move in your crib, music plays and you are subjected to the beauties that humans embrace. All is artistic as it guides you at your desk in the play school of material awareness. Your hands can now grip and they tell you stories of softness, hardness and the flexible. You can move the world and you feel a strange sensation called physical power that somehow is in your domain. You are discovering certainty as the blanket you grip moves in the directions you choose. You are understanding that the realm you have been welcomed into is yours and since your crib is not shared with another, your are learning what ownership is. 'Mine' is the first concept that you are beginning to understand. My mother, my blanket, my crib. Mine, then slowly begins to form the idea of, me.
Yes, you are discovering there is a You, however, you term it as Me. Now you are associating the terms you are hearing as all references to that being, you. You have just been introduced to yourself. The name you hear is you, the loved one is you, the adorable one is you. The beautiful one, the ugly one, the black one, the white one, the anything but human one is you. You are different because you are you, and those ones over there are not us, so you are not them. You are us, you are you. You are not human, you are the chosen one. You are the answered prayer, the wish come true, the privileged. Yes, but you can also be the mistake, the afterthought, the youngest, the oldest, the this, the that. You have been torn out of the herd and branded by those that were torn and branded themselves.
Your eyes are beginning to witness, and your first sights calm you because you can see your writers and editors. They tell you that you are good or you are bad and you believe every bit of the information that they feed you as the truth and nothing but. There is mild contradiction, but it is so minute that your mind cannot separate it from the entirety of this new and wonderful experience. Your consciousness has been numbed and your body is the physician. It soothes you, it tranquilizes you as coherence is wrapped in the brightest images there are. You are a babe and as such all incoming information has been sterilized so its effect is gentle and hypnotic. Breathe little baby, don't you cry, mother is going to keep her demons away from you, while she lets her little girl hopes and her postpartum delusions hold you in their arms.
Taste your mother's milk while you suckle at her breast, feel the purest substance you will ever know as it runs down your body to be formed into the exploding cells that expand your advance towards the horizons. Watch her lips falling on your brow as you feel the closeness of another. Know you are being humanized and welcomed into the flock of the flightless angels. Listen to the stories of who you are, and know you are the answer to their prayers and fantasies. Your eyes are hazy but they are perfect for the arrival of the interpretation of what you mean to all that surround you. Know that these are not wishes, but expectations of who you are and what degree of salvation you have given them. You are their messiah and you cannot even speak yet. You are their god, but you are being painted by their hands, not yours.
As you move in your crib, music plays and you are subjected to the beauties that humans embrace. All is artistic as it guides you at your desk in the play school of material awareness. Your hands can now grip and they tell you stories of softness, hardness and the flexible. You can move the world and you feel a strange sensation called physical power that somehow is in your domain. You are discovering certainty as the blanket you grip moves in the directions you choose. You are understanding that the realm you have been welcomed into is yours and since your crib is not shared with another, your are learning what ownership is. 'Mine' is the first concept that you are beginning to understand. My mother, my blanket, my crib. Mine, then slowly begins to form the idea of, me.
Yes, you are discovering there is a You, however, you term it as Me. Now you are associating the terms you are hearing as all references to that being, you. You have just been introduced to yourself. The name you hear is you, the loved one is you, the adorable one is you. The beautiful one, the ugly one, the black one, the white one, the anything but human one is you. You are different because you are you, and those ones over there are not us, so you are not them. You are us, you are you. You are not human, you are the chosen one. You are the answered prayer, the wish come true, the privileged. Yes, but you can also be the mistake, the afterthought, the youngest, the oldest, the this, the that. You have been torn out of the herd and branded by those that were torn and branded themselves.
Your eyes are beginning to witness, and your first sights calm you because you can see your writers and editors. They tell you that you are good or you are bad and you believe every bit of the information that they feed you as the truth and nothing but. There is mild contradiction, but it is so minute that your mind cannot separate it from the entirety of this new and wonderful experience. Your consciousness has been numbed and your body is the physician. It soothes you, it tranquilizes you as coherence is wrapped in the brightest images there are. You are a babe and as such all incoming information has been sterilized so its effect is gentle and hypnotic. Breathe little baby, don't you cry, mother is going to keep her demons away from you, while she lets her little girl hopes and her postpartum delusions hold you in their arms.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Part XIII - Birth
Now that you have the capacity to understand that consciousness is the key, it is time to reacquaint yourself with the awareness of the material. Adjust your attention forward as you begin to experience re-entry. You are about to be introduced to the upheaval of the tranquil by the waves of sound, pressure, brightness and the annoyance of the stationary. Please be advised that most of your identity has been fashioned for you. Look upon this occurrence as the first chain on your individuality as you are now becoming one of them. Purpose and solitude have released you, now that experience is about to toss all coherence aside. Understand that frailty will be your first challenge and time on the human scale must be spent in order to overcome this handicap.
Feel the grip of gravity and know it is a ancient mechanism employed to keep you in place. Fall into the cavity without struggle or you will encounter the first of what is perceived as compilation in the delivery. That harness that is surrounding you is a beacon known as light that is coming from the opening that awaits to welcome you to the paradox of humanity. You now will feel a closure upon your consciousness, know that it is a necessity or your whole existence in the beckoning will be far too torturous to endure. You and your awareness will slowly get to know each other again but be warned not to make others aware of the fact too early. They may single you out and social difference is the most fearsome force known to normality.
The pressure you are feeling is known as pain, cry out and fill yourself with air by breathing. This is the second chain on your individuality, a way of identifying you as human. Now release yourself and become one in the society. The sensations you are experiencing now are feelings, you are in the hands of your compatriots. Your tribe is welcoming you. They will weight you and measure you as they begin to judge you. Those sounds you are hearing are called speech, they are comparing you to all others who have passed and will pass this way. This is the third chain on your individuality. You are being cared for because of your physical frailty, but do not forget that you pay them for the service by first discovering yourself through their eyes.
You are now on the breasts of your mother, the one you have travelled through. Latch onto her smell, her essence, know that she is the one who will be the closest to you until your innocence has been stripped. Feel calmness approach you even though it is nothing like what you have come from. Cherish this still moment for it is thought to be the most gracious one known to humanity. You can feel her heart beat as it did beside you in the cell of growth. It plays the same rhythmic melody it has always played but this movement is entirely different for she is undergoing the hypnotic affect of becoming a mother. Hope that she has the required strength to keep this moment alive, but understand that strain is thought of as a requirement of human life, and it may have torn from her all those vital things you need.
You now must undergo an array of inspections from all those that are biologically related to you. Of course all are biologically related but tribal law dictates that you belong to the chosen few. Hope that your clan is not that infected with a major strain of identity for this would be the fourth chain on your individuality. Stay still as you squirm in the cloths that bind you, understand that resistance is impressive but not continually tolerated. They serve their designations for it is a way of identifying them to the others. Know that there is an intrinsic hierarchy and you will be blessed if you are a direct relation to the highest of them all. Remember however, every position on the scale comes with the inadequacy of its title. For humans need to know where they come from even though they struggle throughout their lives to get far away from it.
Feel the grip of gravity and know it is a ancient mechanism employed to keep you in place. Fall into the cavity without struggle or you will encounter the first of what is perceived as compilation in the delivery. That harness that is surrounding you is a beacon known as light that is coming from the opening that awaits to welcome you to the paradox of humanity. You now will feel a closure upon your consciousness, know that it is a necessity or your whole existence in the beckoning will be far too torturous to endure. You and your awareness will slowly get to know each other again but be warned not to make others aware of the fact too early. They may single you out and social difference is the most fearsome force known to normality.
The pressure you are feeling is known as pain, cry out and fill yourself with air by breathing. This is the second chain on your individuality, a way of identifying you as human. Now release yourself and become one in the society. The sensations you are experiencing now are feelings, you are in the hands of your compatriots. Your tribe is welcoming you. They will weight you and measure you as they begin to judge you. Those sounds you are hearing are called speech, they are comparing you to all others who have passed and will pass this way. This is the third chain on your individuality. You are being cared for because of your physical frailty, but do not forget that you pay them for the service by first discovering yourself through their eyes.
You are now on the breasts of your mother, the one you have travelled through. Latch onto her smell, her essence, know that she is the one who will be the closest to you until your innocence has been stripped. Feel calmness approach you even though it is nothing like what you have come from. Cherish this still moment for it is thought to be the most gracious one known to humanity. You can feel her heart beat as it did beside you in the cell of growth. It plays the same rhythmic melody it has always played but this movement is entirely different for she is undergoing the hypnotic affect of becoming a mother. Hope that she has the required strength to keep this moment alive, but understand that strain is thought of as a requirement of human life, and it may have torn from her all those vital things you need.
You now must undergo an array of inspections from all those that are biologically related to you. Of course all are biologically related but tribal law dictates that you belong to the chosen few. Hope that your clan is not that infected with a major strain of identity for this would be the fourth chain on your individuality. Stay still as you squirm in the cloths that bind you, understand that resistance is impressive but not continually tolerated. They serve their designations for it is a way of identifying them to the others. Know that there is an intrinsic hierarchy and you will be blessed if you are a direct relation to the highest of them all. Remember however, every position on the scale comes with the inadequacy of its title. For humans need to know where they come from even though they struggle throughout their lives to get far away from it.
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