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..?

]

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

 

 

 

 

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