I am in a phase of pure adrenal rage and defiance. I am learning things at an unprecedented rate and have discovered something about the very fabric of our universe. Let me start by saying that what we are doing here, on the planet, sharing with each other is all a great hoax.
We are being killed, tortured, and our spirits are being raped. Sure, there’s joy, sure there’s love, sure there’s family–coupled with misery, hatred, and betrayal. We are severely divided into a schismatic existence, not so black and white, but very heavily dichotomised. The pressure from all sources is being applied so regularly and with such potent finesse that most everyone’s recourse is to lie down and take it and to create mental fabrications and constructs which further delude them from the actual truth of the matter–this is the realm of thunder, this is a place of much sorrow and confusion. The material realm is a realm of chaos, and entropy reigns, and our lives as we know them are a brief deviation from the omnipresent cosmic dissolution.
Survival, an inbound aspect of biological existence, requires denial. It requires complicity. It demands surrender. I am being, from all external points of view, an extremely irritated and irrational person, and I can understand this–and am therefore not mad. What I have come to understand destroys any happy shadow cast by the blinding light of this truth. Am I better for it? Not one bit.
Previously believing my experience of difficulty to be some form of gangstalking or psychotronic warfare, I have now come to understand that is only another version of my illusion to understand the incessant onslaught of this reality and it’s specific implications. Whether or not someone out there has a machine pointed at my brain, or that car and that car and that car are always seen in convoy is of no consequence. The bottom line is, I stopped playing along with what I am clearly recognizing to be wrong and I am being attacked for that choice. The most simple way to describe this is by calling it a spiritual battle–but that’s even too light a label to fully encapsulate what I intend to demonstrate.
Just like the nature of a criminal is to get away with the most they possibly can before encountering consequence, our ether soul spirit chi being is similarly being pushed to its limits all the way unto death. Bodily death is a silly thing to fear, what is much more fearsome to consider is the possibility that we NEVER DIE and will march forth into some demiurgic daemonic procession of suffering and enslavement beyond our mortal comprehension. That is the stuff of fear, not a little thing like death. To ponder the meaning, to consider the truth of this reality makes all ideas of heaven and hell futile.
Great! I’m a Gnostic wizard. People hate me. I have no family. I am so alone. And I have been using my problem with seeing my daughter as a platform upon which to hinge my struggle, and the interesting aspect of this is when I have my daughter for those blessed brief few moments of fatherhood, she is uncooperative and defiant and I understand that. One must weigh the option that there may be no “her” or “him” or “God,” but really a personal continuum which defies reason and belief, a sort of maze we put our own souls through to become further lost in the maze. No cheese. No light at the end. It is some kind of sham, a lie, a trick.
Oh yeah, there’s always heroin, and pussy, and marijuana, and travel and these distractions from the pureness of this corrupt creation–and those were the things that caused me to “enjoy” my life in the past years. And presently, I understand that enjoyment is only a fleeting feeling to increase the potency of the shadow following immediately behind.
It is questionable, then, why a soul would ever willfully CHOOSE to engage further in this mortal debacle, and the Buddhists and Lamaists speak of such decision. Now here is a strange dilemma that the religious Christians cannot possibly comprehend if basing their faith upon dogma alone, a saying attributed to Jesus by two apostles. I beg the reader to deeply ponder why the good guy hero of the universe would go ahead and say something of this nature, unless it had some powerful significance:
If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.
He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.