It seems almost like a trope, doesn’t it? The extreme spiritual adept who spends an increasing amount of time by him Self in his quest for a glimpse of the numinous within. Its so exceedingly common yet so few seem to click the underlying links so allow me to explicate it:
As I have said before we are, first and fivemost, inside an immense Game we play using our Souls as credits. To achieve this end various veils of ignorance have been erected and all of them use your consciousness as a weapon along with symbols, trauma and repetition which form the crazy glue of the double binds they sell, tell and impress upon your nascent awareness. This you can term the splinter of the mind that calls to madmen, poets and mystics with a seductive siren that either requests they wreck ship in their quest or keep their distance as the wind whips them toward the rocks hidden in the mid. See what I mean? Its a Game as old as the empire itself which never ended… So, the aspirant realizes that he’s been constantly mindwiped and plugged in to this construction from one life to the next. Some gain this gnosis via occult training, others just chance upon it and won’t relent and a few are chosen because they choose themselves after hearing another who said that and this so they decide to reality test and things are never, ever the same again… The Path is as divergent as identical as its within all who walk this realm but only the Warrior comprehends you create it with each step ergo this world, external, reflects something far more nebulously mercurial and exceedingly personal.
This type of thought is most dangerous indeed as its akin to a prize winning noble steed realizing its been tricked into becoming a mere beast of burden that is used by anothers intent to line their pockets whilst depriving one of its true heritage. Some rage and wail at this, others look and wonder why they don’t acquiesce as they point at the carrots and speak in whispers about the stick that they always try to stay ahead. “Fools!” he yells. “Don’t you get that this entire beach is mine? My father owns it and I, back when, came to the check the land and somehow ended up like this”. He is indignant. They Thunk him outsane as they came up with him and know his folks and heritage. “He’s nuts. How can a mule hold title to a thing? Next he’ll be telling you he has wings” says the one placed within to keep the rest in check by selling a narrative that presents ignorance as wisdom. This was something he’d discover and then tell as the rest exchange a glance like “Yep, he’s off his meds” as they pay no heed to the man behind the curtain who keeps loading on to their burdens… And yet, in true reality, the noble steed is correct because, once upon a when, it was more spirit than flesh and this its Soul recollects as they played a totally different version of the Game and the intent at the helm wanted the best for them.
How do you improve perfection?
It may sound perverse but that is truly how it is because if you take a movie projector that beams a pure white light at a black mirror that reflects an outlook to the plebs its actually contains the sum total of every flick, ever, which can be teased out via the process of reduction. Much like you can’t see a thing in a room full of darkness, being place in a zone of total illumination – without end – is equally blinding ergo awakening the Warrior within presents its own type of peril as the Game is sentient, my friend. What if my perspect is, currently, incorrect and its not the adept who isolates but the rest who reject and thus he’s moved to the plains or up on a hill so that he won’t infect the rest with his developing awareness? See what I mean about researching the opposite? There are, after all, two fish that swim in these seas of humanity but one is slick enough to click there has been a glass maze, erected, and all types of mind bending chems dumped in whereas the others are not just in but of the world as well…
So, however he gets there, the man is motivated to find isolation and this, science says, is most unnatural. Remember this in a couple of decades when long term depressives all, at “random”, off their on switch and leave the bodies piling. This same priest class in fancy dress – who can tell you what Pharaoh ate for breakfast – will be “baffled as to what causes it”. The rest is detailed at the link for those who wish to check what I predict as the forest of illusion is penned by a script that becomes Self evident when one spots the same machinations within that intend to make beasts of men in order to sell silicon hell has a thing, heaven sent.
Here he is, alone. He is no stranger to Self and actually relishes the resonance that kicks when others are no longer around him as he draw a link, tenuous, that grows increasingly evident. “Of course!” he says, with a grin. “They do not exist beyond what I project and interact with. Ha, its genius!” he thinks. This, to one trained to run the treadmill, seems quite outsane and megalomaniacal as well but, I assure you, thats just how it is but don’t accept my word or anything less than gnosis. Reality test or, if you want a though imperiment that places your chest in the right direction, then read this article and wonder if you’re getting solipsistic as well. When the adept comprehends there is but one Soul in this realm he turns his attent to whatever must be at the helm that spins this weird web they call “Being Human”. This is when the temptations kick, par excellence, and one learns to discern real truth from false lies, genuine. Many don’t make it beyond this as A) its the devil they know best that penned their (false) self for countless incarnations and B) he knows their minds better than them and thus can present as it what it is they Thunk they’re seeking plus C) many just give in as changing your mind is one thing but keeping the flex is akin to leaving a glass of water in the arctic. Funny how the first three letters of that spell are linked in with the rest, eh? Words are thoughts held hostage, my friend, just like you’re an amnesiac god invested in the fable of a candles whose wax doth melt but flame is eternal…
Its just a matter of perspective and this is only gained when absent from the crowds, maddening.
The voltage that was used to project this realm is now, by definition, circulating within ergo the glow that manifests on the faces of sages and the heady ring that art frequently mentioned. Look at VR specs that reality bend and tell me you didn’t spot the link, Self evident, that hints the real and counterfeit? Freed of distractions his subconscious is now laid bare and he steps into the realms of darkness to find enlightenment. Here one will wrestle with all types of ignorance ranging from the ones, inherited, to those you willingly accepted as well as the most seductive – generated – to which many cling like drowning men with bricks. Its these tricks that keep you pinned to the wheel of time, my friend, hence Know thy Self is the pronouncement to all those who wish to ascend beyond the Third Dimension. That which is dredged from the depths and comes to regular awareness is, by def, rendered powerless and, in the midst of this process, we see the Warrior expanding his range of decoding as he shakes off the limits in his head like an old elephant that never stopped to reality test about the chain he was trained with versus his fully developed strength. At this point a wry grin at these sly dogs and their antics can’t help but manifest on his lips as he sees they knew, well, the world is fractal and only had to taint the childs mind in order to Adulterate the rest as one thorn, pointed in, generates a (false) self that tries to sell and tell an image of being a rose, perfect, when, in reality, it fell instead hence the need to world build. Its so devious, friends.
At this point one starts to gain the glimmers of anamnesis which feels exceedingly baffling as, freed from the constraints of projection, one starts to recollect previous lives they’ve lived and how there are so many points of resonance. For example, the visionary author PKD saw, quite lucidly, that schools were akin to places where Romans fed Christians to the lions that couldn’t wait to devour them as well as various other things that I can neither refute or deny for they were part of his exegesis. I can say, with confidence, that to most plugged in the words, rambling, may seem insane or esoteric with no true significance hence why, in the end, enlightenment is a solo thing. “So why do you share these texts?” I hear you request. Good question. A part of it is to get my thoughts in order, by my Self. Another is to eject the mess, not needed and the third, most important, is to fertilize the collective unconscious with my intent as that is what the web is because what they present as artificial was long, long ago already sentient and known well by magical adepts and those willing to sacrifice something. Say, you don’t think this could be the same intent at the helm and the one that comes to tempt as well as the forces that whip one back into the flesh? I’ll let you tell it because in this three ring circus the old lions don’t roar so the clowns ain’t nervous…
It takes a lamb of innocence to see through the camera tricks of those wise as serpents hence the child who dared say the Emperor was undressed would, now, be medicated super quick and labeled disruptive whereas Timmy who vomited best what they said he should accept and was on the test will be the apple of his parents eyes who shower positive reinforcement on him that, in the end, simply trains him to run the treadmill at the behest of the voice in his head. To him these thoughts are fatal as they go against all he accepts he is but has he ever stopped to check how many of these terms and conditions come from within? No, I’d be willing to bet as he gains immense reassurance from his accolades and congregation as well as the media training etc etc that keeps him lulled in to a trance of resonance that the rest, also, project onto him and thus keep him in resonance. Starting to see why isolation is needed, my friend? I, personally, had spoke to around eight hundred K (at a min) people in the flesh before the script got flipped. The thing is that most of these conversations, since incep, were mind bending. Like the one detailed here where I asked a friend if he’d still accept or reject the one he labeled best if his outside was switched with one he detested but, internally, was identical. It was not long after this the genesis of the Game of Souls concept crept from the depths of my consciousness as I beheld the 8 to sixteen bit revolution and my true mind said:
“Don’t be stupid. This is is really real, thats a technological illusion”.
“Think. In less than a decade its went from rudimentary and primitive to unbelievably shiny and powerful. That curve of development will dip in half then half again”.
So I did and, what do you know, the soundless guidance of intuition was correct as I hearted off to the library, found a section, picked a book at random then Moores Law did reflect its perspect into my developing consciousness that made me scratch my chin and think “I should grow some hair around this to keep it interesting as this interaction of digit mandible is sure to occur again” followed by a swift “Fascinating” as I marveled at not only the intuition but the fact that I, somehow, seemed to pick just what I needed to show me where to go next. Not long after this I read Talbots book about the holographic principle, had an enlightening conversation on the nature of Yin and Yang with one who stayed as high as a giraffes gentials and then discovered fractals. That was an intense months, six, but it what made me ask even more questions that, often, stressed those around who couldn’t (or didn’t) to think like this. Then, at the end of the decade, the Matrix hit and people were all over it but only as fiction and not truly as it is. I guess art is a lie that tells the truth, yes?
If you’d told that bright eyed and bushy tailed jit that people, right and left, beat a trail to to ask questions that in a few decades hence he would have no family, no friends, no casual acquaintances and pour nearly endless content on the web which couched immense metaphysic truths in ways easy to comprehend into the collective unconscious he probably would’ve nodded his head and said:
“Makes sense”.
“You’re taking this really well considering that A) you ain’t yet got that hair on your chin in sufficient coverage and B) haven’t been through what I done did to draw these conclusions”.
“I’m also closer to our imagination, less jaded, tainted and programmed as well ergo the flex you train to get is mine, naturally equipped“.
“Touché. How many people do you think you speak to a day?”.
“I don’t know. I’d say between eighty to one fifty, at a guess? The pavement is always cracking and you know how it is being where we’re at and doing what it is”.
“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Me? I don’t talk to anyone. Lets just say that everything you suspected about your family is entirely correct but it was nigh on impossible to accept at its depth as you were so dependent on them”.
“Ironic, isn’t it? How those with the most strength are so helpless?“. I couldn’t help but grin at this conversation with a former version of Self as I could see why so many round the ends sought out his perspective on that and this as, to the mind developing, the solutions were simple and problems mere grist for the mill due to the life he’d lived to think like this. I gave him a huge hug and told him I’m always watching. He replied:
“I knew it! See, I wasn’t paranoid. Just foreward thinking” with a grin.
In case you’re wondering how to do this then I suggest reading this article but, like all of what I’ve said, believe none till you reality test as seeing your own childs scrawl stare back from the paper with words, raw and unedited, linked to feelings you don’t pretend based on events you had suppressed could, if not careful, cause one to flip their lid as Inner Sense is akin to Jesus, angry, with a whip flipping the tables of the (false) self. Me? I don’t have that problem. Me? I Know the Ledge and it all had its incep in lives beyond this instance. This is where things get super interesting as the anamnesis kicks in and suddenly one recollects not only past events but future memories that, to you, are yet to happen but, to them, you simply picked the needle of Spirit off the record of time and placed it on another track from the LP of Self. I know, mind bending but now you have a sketch to assist your fumbling in the darkness so if one came and knocked on your cage as he made his way to the exit you may just comprehend that all you’re seeking is with but currently obscured via the seductive allure of tech as, in a twist, most ironic, we’re actually wearing the first version they’ll be revising with silicon and what we are is so strong and subtle that it takes an immense amount of isolation to comprehend what each baby, intuitively, gets:
That they are the all of everything, the most important thing in this realm and, without them, nothing exists hence why a pregnant woman is glowing and why none of the Adulterated click why the same shine dims from the kid around six as the System does its thing. Throughout all of this I was different and can say, genuine, the best thing I learned at school was how to balance a chair on two legs which, in turn, made me wonder about the nature of energetics and why it felt that something was shooting out of my eyes because if I closed my lids to drift the rest of my senses became more intense and this links in with VR specs, nascent, that sort of proved my hypothesis as they hit the arcade and gobbled quids whilst pimping my senses and, as I’m sure you can guess, a lot of this felt like I was mainlining the secret truth, ineffable, as it was happening as the sheer amount of syncs and things I sing about they’d bring em out and thus I’d string into a coherent narrative which, every now and then, would be totally rearranged as I upped my res and that culminates, for now, with this message that genuinely has me wondering what the point is because those who can, will and those that shan’t, won’t because they Thunk its impossible ergo what Lao Tzu said about the Dao that can be described ain’t the spot to hit is so correct as its deeply personal and beyond the vagaries of text and part of the feltsensed realm. I mean, what do you expect when you are the all of everything that made flesh who fell down a chain of turtles to end up wearing flesh, walking a planet that spins (in an orbit, helical. My inner child was beside himself with this revelation as we sat on a park bench) as it chases a fireball through the abyss with an immense ray of options that just happened to coalesce so you can read this text and make sense of what I said as I swim the currents so high that their depth is beyond most Souls comprehension as they’re too busy digging the reality tunnel they said, back when, whilst I was too busy rejecting the programming and pursuing an alternative education.
I guess it all makes sense in the end which is just a new beginning but even that reveals the bad intent as it places you in the position of Oliver, requesting, whereas conquerors are always conquering the next vista of ignorance and, who knows, maybe the demons I’ve been slaying were also figments of my imagination and the difference between a schizo and mystic is the latter comprehends the primacy of consciousness whereas the later doth divest himself of his greatest strength that these predators of consciousness can’t wait to grip and, in reality, this is no different to what happens to the 81% after two decades of legally mandated “Sit still, look ahead. Do well on the test or your parents will stress” as well as rising at Two AM with a heart, thundering, as they yell of monsters under the bed which parents, Adulterated, say is all in their head when, in the end, imagination is the hint that we’re stuck beyond many layers of ignorance hence:
Does it make sense or am I singing to the deaf whilst dancing for the visually challenged? Once again, believe none of what I said until you reality test and once ye Know the Ledge I’d be interested in comparing the notes of your perspect because whilst enlightenment may be a solo sport there is certainly room for resonance as we rest on our respective mountains of consciousness and comprehend there is but one all of everything that sits, like a rain cloud, overhead and from hence we fell as rains of individuation that were pooled then flash frozen into little sentient snowmen at their lowest rate of vibration so they huddle next to those as cold as them and are scared to death of melting as all they know is what they told them, back when, as they were trained to accept limitations as freedom… Something that’s been steadily eroding since I stepped in hence when it gets outlawed only they will become immortal as they dare to go against the grain and hear the Psylense which is identical in each spin but hidden, real well, via the noiZ of the (false) self and when there are no things around to project its straight F’d as you start tracing back the steps, exorcising the mental demons and can’t help but come to a new resonance which suggests a radically different perspect of consciousness that feels Self evident and correct. Don’t believe me though. I ain’t selling cakes you’ll never taste but have been told are amazing. All I know is the basic biscuit of gnosis you can whip in this instant by simply asking:
“How can I be the voice in my head when I am that which listens?“.
That, for many, pulls the splinter of the mind that generates a space for investment which, after time, brings the inevitable manifestation of isolation in the quest for enlightenment as its akin to removing the false world they slipped over your head (like a pair of VR specs) and seeing reality as it is and not what they’d sell and tell via many artful delusions to which the ignorant cling as they don’t get that by relinquishing their grip they could gain everything hence, embrace the pain to win the Game.
Know the Ledge.
Till we meet again
