2020-08-18

post/apocalypse: end game, up rising 3 (the return)

(..or, "don't roll your eyes..yes, again..& again, & a gain..goddamn, u know you want it!!")











..they told me this would happen, then they told me to forget..










The eternal recurrence of warrior (formerly/aka shades, thus named because he'd died & was now a shade himself, living among the land of the living.... don't tell anyone tho..like they'd believe you anyway..cuz that would just be some crazy shit, wouldn't it!? ...but I get a head of myself) awoke..
 
 
 
Abruptly. Slowly it dawned on him that the world had ended again. And yet, once again, he had been spared. He had survived another apocalypse..


 
 
..or, no, that wasn't quite it.. he'd died & cum back to life.. craziest thing..🤔



 
 
 
..& somehow, he'd leveled up..crazy, isn't it 🙃..sure, but also a fact..
 
 
 













if knowledge is power, wisdom is peace







There has been a long and winding war on magic since time immemorial.
 
The war is not per se whether or not magic exists or can be allowed to
exist, but rather: who is allowed to have access to this knowledge of
self and world. 
 
The only way in which the existence of magic is
relegated to the dustbin of history in mass consciousness is by
denying our ignorance, by assuming we know, well, just about anything.



In denying mystery, by eliminating the fear of the unknown, by assuming
the things that are presumed to be known, and in what manner, we
foreclose on our ability to delve deeper into the nature of ourselves
and reality. If you think you know, you do not question, and can
therefore not hope to find any greater or deeper answer in
understanding. 
 
 
 
Modern science purports to describe the world and to be
the solely valid point of view on which to base our mechanics of
action, but questions always determine the answer and hold various
assumptions to be true that have led to those questions being able to
be formulated. Chiefly among these is the now even scientifically
invalidated assumption of an independent external world “out there”,
but that invalidation is said to only apply to submicroscopic
processes. 
 
By assuming a world independent of self, and making the
self dependent on that world, the individual is torn from their
experience and their power. We become mere products of circumstance
and our individual lives have little or no real meaning for us,
collectively or as individuals. Contrary to popular belief, and
contrite aphorisms - the Earth is the center of the solar system, and
“I” is the center of the universe. 
 
That “I” is typically confined, in
materialist fashion, to the body, with mind a mere epiphenomenon;
when, however, the “I” is really all of the immediately consciously
apprehended environment, which should be though of as including body,
and in some degree also the so-called contents of mind. 
 
We are not -
how could we be - separate from our environment, but neither is the
structure of the environment independent of our stance towards it. 
 
 
The proper study of man is man, and to begin in this endeavor we must
start to apply rational analysis to ourselves as perceptive bundles -
firstly of sensory information apparently coming from an external
environment. 
 
 
We must not really “know”, but rather something more like
“grok”, the patterns inherent in our experience of self and world -
leapfrogging from the obvious and superficial to more profound
patterns underlying the truth, which is always our immediate
experience.







 don't dwell on working; dwell in working on self












I have no compunctions about dying; dying is compunction.







[Insert your own thoughts on the topic here, & then we'll tell u where to stick them]

















every woman man and child is worthy of the blessings of the @LL-father







ruler




Ferociously compliant.
I made my bed in a life you left behind,
While drifting in dreams
Of which
You relentlessly rewind.

 
You are my hope
Or so you say

Salvation never seems to go my way.

 
 
You hold my body to task and soul to flame. To imprison my mind your grindhouse of shame.

Trumpets neutered from hate spewed by that ferocious belly, and the stones you throw from behind
the lie$ of your t$$th.

 
Another bile tide from the vile of your boundless pride.

 
Your spam welded into my cache.

 
A fraudulent intensity
Propagated into necessity.

 
It is an anchor.
It is an anchor
Whether ceremonial or terrestrial.
It is your anchor.

No longer my anchor.

 
This is your constitution of the empire to fall.

 
 
The war drums will beat, I will ides straight to march through the eyes of your tyrannous finitude.

I will strike with sword. I will strike myself from your reign through the abatement of my name.

 
I will be the endless ungraspable beyond your rule.














Like fish, we swim in schools of thought
...and mind is the ocean.







22 redux




..& I miss the aroma of your pussy, wafting thru
the air..
 
to me it allways hinted of life itself, vitality
 
& i @LL ways wanted to c u like that,
 
 
no matter what it cost me..


..you deserved it; you'd earned it. u were well worth it..
..& I have no regrets, now that's it's the time of my death, except..


..death doesn't rilly exist, is the thing ;



& yet it does..
 
 
 
 
..crazy, eh..?













Life is short? No, memory is - Life is long.
 
 
 
 
 

















death cums in different ways to different people; sometimes it's betting your life on a cheap card trick..others it's losing the best of your self overnight..

the challenge/trick is to have the eyes to see it, so u can fight it

to the







[

 

it'll take them years to figure out what we're doing, man..& when they do, it'll propel them into another world..that, or they'll need to get there to get it.


..but which came first, the chicken or the egg..?



]






No comments:

Post a Comment