2020-07-15

死

 

 




“People arent afraid of death, they’re afraid of pain”

 

 

Death is the excuse we use to hide our guilt.

 

 

 

Death of the old paradigm

 

 

ego deaths.. dealing with death of others with acceptance...

 

 

 

allowing oneself to “die”

 

 

 

 

shit i could go on a while..Living to die..

 

 

 

Etc etc

 

 

 

Shades... death... afterlife... eh?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Post apoc. being the “afterlife”...

 












Mirror, mirror of my mind

 

 

Place a light inside for time.

 

 

Burn a few, anon, I knew

 

 

That everything I saw was you.

 

Place my hand atop a flame,

 

 

 

The light that shines now becomes pain.

 

 

 

What was, what is, the present kiss

 

 

 

Of truth and life and night begins

 

 

 

Again when I’ve gone amiss:

 

 

 

Left the world behind a bit.

 

 

 

 

I’m gone for you, but me what’s best

 

 

 

 

Another time, another rest, in darkness

 

 

 

With what piece my heart’s possessed.

 

Judging me by you, all else,

 

 

 

 

The all does hope to prove my soul

 

 

 

 

And move a proper place with calls

 

 

 

 

From deep without the sounding fall.





Cut out the din and all that remains

 

 

 

Is what’s within turned inside out,

 

 

 

For all to see, my God, my Syn


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the Way has never had a name;


perhaps it just doesn't like them

 

 

 

 

..but it is eternal, & will @LL ways be waiting..

 


 


..for those who are ready for it

 

 

 


 

 

 




 Con flagration

Smoke chokes me again, just in (the) time
Mind of perfect clarity, now seeps and drains into epitaph.

I need to be me in desire, with a soul on fire.
Indulging  -  furthest away from where I pray,
into the pits of play.

Burn the sticks, and caress the stones
Hell has come to devour our souls, and scour our bones.

Its not the heat, the smoke, or the despair.
It’s the sticky regret.
Can’t breathe, nowhere to turn but in,
nothing in there (except/accept) everything I avoid.

Hollowed eyes bleed into hasty embryos.
Spores of spit and shit solder the mind like holy script.

Animated emancipation, withers in the grip.
 Watch the faith dissipate into hate.


 

 

 






what is death, really


nothing at all..


..or nothing itself



a moment, a gap, an opening


an opportunity perhaps..




..do u have thoughts like this too..?



& fear is such an uncivilized, ugly thing..


..fear's the challenge to rise above it


after @LL, haven't we died before..?



..may be we just did..













 

 

the master con artist hasn't mastered the art of stealing

 

 

 

 

 

 

they're masters at how to emerge from any con others might pull on them

 

 

 

on top

 

 

 

 

2020-05-17

we are @LL Shades








I've been thinking of writing about the energetic effects of the current events..like enforced isolation &c..


like, isn't this exactly what the Teachers and Masters have been recommending for aeons, the turn within, in order to real lies the Self..?




even the most hopeless of social media addicts will be unable to avoid the terrible effects of physical distance from the thought patterns of the Crowd; terrible, that is, from the perspective of the ego, the lowercase s self, ever seeking warmth in the company of other egos, so that it may forget that it's a fiction that created it self..





you could even think of it, this unprecedented opportunity, as an incubation period in which those who will make the future itSelf are free from the usual distractions and let's face it, inefficiencies of our customary day-to-day existence..






..what, then, should we expect to happen next..?

















It is a mistake to think that the world inhabited, seemingly shared, with other human beings is the same for each individual. We are not prone to make this mistake as regards the inner lives of other living creatures other than another human, but among species it is perhaps Homo sapiens that differs to the utmost degree from one specimen to the next. 

 

 

We each are able, and do, piece together the world idiosyncratically based on our past experiences and the doctrines which we have made our own. Below these, and this has been written before, there is an underlying sensory-geometric manifold that defines the realm of (external) action - a way of the world, reinforced by perceived mechanisms and received physical doctrine. 

 

 

 

We are for the most part still living in a mechano-materialist framework that dictates the possible. Disregarding the quantum strategy for the time being, we have not yet collectively, if personally, even internalized and harmonized the electromagnetic truths to inform our experience of what may be sensorily known. 

 

 

This lived experience in the “new” electrical world seems to have begun to have been approached when electrical problems and theory were in their infancy. As evidence I purport the findings and diagrams of the physiognomists, showing great deviations of the regular and accustomed structure of the human cranium. 

 

 

To this I suggest that these diagrams are not to be regarded as indicative of the gross material form, easily and simply seen by all, but are in fact suggestive of what is see by energetic sight as surrounding any individual’s head with the particular proclivities as indicated by, at least some of, the physiognomical lore. 

 

 

These energetic protubances live in the electric / magnetic / energetic space which surrounds every object, the human form and its organs of course no exception. 

 

 

 

It is possible to notice these / this field of yourself by paying attention to the twitches and tensions on your own scalp, skull and forehead, particularly when coming into closer proximity with another human being, changes being elicited by the interaction of the two personalities in terms of the mental radiance. 

 

 

The spaces that surround, like the hollow of a cup, are as much a part as what seems to be the sole real existence.


























Power isn't being able to get whatever you want; that's a side effect that can destroy u if u don't have power, which is the ability to gnow what u don't want, & the self-control to avoid it


- us




Shades (thus named because he was but an exemplar of a worldwide, nay, a transdimensional trend) sat alone in his room, contributing to an issue of an esoteric e-zine. around him for every eye to sea, The Old Order was collapsing, holding on by its fingertips to a yesterday that no longer existed..



gnow this, all you who come across this - the World is not just the works of (wo)men; far from it, it is a living, breathing organism, and our own Mother at that..




& gnow further/more that we are Her very own Children, neither numbers nor stats nor names on a screen; yea, we exist in spite of Them


















Hero

When the mind stumps on a concept too vast for cognition it kicks the block to the /edge.  
Incites instance, always anticipated, internally ignored….unfilled…unfit…until….


Aware –


you recoil, clasp your tongue under the fear of vision.

Mind cowers behind the coatracks, scrambles for the tracks.
Dimensions in doors ahead…uncharted.
Swaddled in faith, you trust that we fall through skies.
You look when you should leap. And swim when you should dive.  

Yet you shout out for the words:

You can’t take it away from me,
no matter how much you reach for me.

All the fear, tucked streets away.
Scouring towards the tears - stationed within.  

Impatient fits split the mind tow words the pit.
Dead into the meta-/egit.

A crown deep in the shit.





















Categorical imperatives looted by specters of control.
Waste is the right, for which we fight.

Intolerance (the cosmopolitan refrain) cryin out.
You and mind/e are gunna bout.
And someone’s salvation is gunna bounce.
 
Lords of the chapel ingest golden repression.
Regurgitate webs of eternal plea.
A beholden radio casts a dying net across the sea.  

With regret chained to the chest, amid eyes marred in political hastilude,  
Empowered by internal feats abound - I’m your hound.

Gather your hopes – tether them to me.

As I skip away from insurmountable ruts of reason, and empires of doubt.

We sift through the shi(f)t for spontaneous solidarity.  
A petition bottlenecked in the bogs.

Burdens are not beasts, and fruits are not your release.

Through forests sterile of scruples, lost marbles everywhere.
Over rivers of flux, open to all being, now soiled with intent.
Synching the vest of compassion, we surface in tides of bogged hate.

We collapse through the bunkers.
Behold dunes once glowing and tranquil,
and we breathe beneath the rolling waves.




















Grains as free as dreams wish for the soul

The pollen of today thrives through the sorrow


I carry the banner and the sword, but when we storm the stars, 



you finally see that you are we





2020-04-01

begending








"to the ordinary person on the street, the coming period will seem like the end of the world. It's already started, with the earthquakes, stocks, the weather. You see, Those great spirits, those venerable vudu of whom we ourselves are but an expression, have decided that it's high time to accelerate the psychic evolution on your planet before it's too late.  Unfortunately, the only way to do that, as you know, is to place tests and challenges before the initiates"


-from  an (esoterico-)energetic cybernetics, January 2019








the problem with being able to see the future is, who's going to be lie ve you? That's what Shades (thus named because ) was thinking as he sat in a private mental institution in a developing country. It had been, after all, his tendency to not hold back from proclaiming aloud his prognostications that had landed him in a private mental institution in a developing country in the first place. 




























emotions are water but in what matter does it fill? Man-made lakes and ponds, fountains... or nature’s?








MM&FW

Chaos was without form and void, all disjoint and illogic. The rising din from the void was unknown for there was nothing to know in that noise; but what was impressed upon it - whatever could be found, built, from the vibrating, pulsing, disordered ground. One way of thought, one approach, has built the world of us as parts of that grand being, mankind. Adam Kadmon, the eternal type of man, the grand man, (in)forms our being and roots our essence in threads of necessity built on the logic of the twin lights of woman and man. Our world is built out of the interconnection between the two sexes and divine potencies, centered multifariously in various selves, souls, complexes of mind and body. The world is a surface, like a sheet, between the two sides of the divided unity that is man.


















Maybe it's our energiez re:syncing/sinking/sin king










RANDOM

Everything is always falling - either together, or apart.

How far are the real and the royal distinct?













Sin-crown-eyes





















you and me can. We can defy all these half-arses & surpass them to the last man












DIREXION

In which direction do you “look”: up or down, in or out? How we approach observation with the meanings of these stances can change our fundamental approach to the phenomenal. Where do we place ourself in relation to the ray and point of consciousness? Re-ordering the experienced world is achieved by moving fundamental notions in the web of association.





















Caregiver

We make due,
when all we left behind,
was the sting of the absence.

All I need to know is what they made.
So I can understand why we couldn’t.

Complacency is the tapeworm of the mind.

Without sound,
or home.

Will sculpted of stone,
Regret cemented within.

Ever find you a soldier not lost?
Or a gift without cost?  
























UNKNOWN

Stability in the mental fabric of reality is determined by a consideration of certainty in the mass unified type. Deviations are only possible in a limited degree and to that which can be overcome by force or finesse. The old displays of fakirs in the near East are examples of this, where they would create shared illusions. By allowing more and more concepts and thoughts, no matter how petrified in mind, to be encompassed by a true notion and belief as ultimately unknown - stability is overcome and the realm of possibility opens up. Belief is the strongest form of certainty, and rooted in the determination of the structure of the experienced environment. By giving up belief, or transferring it to being as “unknown”, we can enter different worlds - but certain things are more easily unknown (verb), as they are, or were never, part of our own immediate experience, but rather mere(?) stories we’ve been told