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I Wont Be Here Forever

My old man is giving up, it's funny I learned that "old man" is slang for "the passions of 'this world'" in the ecclesiastical sense last weekend.

I'm talking about my biological father. He's been up against Parkinson's for a long time now, but slowly his body has been decaying, words became whisps of breathy effort and then frustration at not being able to communicate.

I cried myself to sleep as a child after I learned about the lifecycle of the Sun. In something like a billion years it will evaporate the oceans, in another few billion after that the whole Earth will be consumed by the red giant. All is for nothing I thought, so what if I become rich, famous, discover a new plant or animal, so what if anything. We are all so small and destined to be erased from history as a whole planet some day, not just as individual wretched humans.

It's okay, you keep doing you. I'm sure you're okay, no need to pause and actually think. The noise will deliver us to the ultimate signal, right?

What experience that presents itself to us, the sliver of the electromagnetic spectrum that has been granted access to our most inner being through the eyes of the flesh. Take another tab of acid, see another kind of light, but what else are we getting? Are the demons real? Is it possible to be "mis-lead" in what appears to be a sea of chaotic fractal consciousness?

Grab and hang tight to the principle if you're able to pause long enough to find it. The Tao, Christ, who knows.

I've been overflowing lately, I've kept a lot of this to myself, or if I start to "rant" it doesn't connect and means nothing to those around me.

"we are all gonna die", some people turn towards hedonism when they realize this, Epicureanism if they've got half a brain. Eventually even that turns into wretchedness, obesity, neurological burnout, our senses become dulled by the passing of time. Sight turns to undifferentiated blur, smell and taste too, our genitals refuse to become engorged with blood so we turn to the good doctors for magic sex pills, because what else is this life good for besides seeking pleasure. We thank the advertisers for presenting us with the things we never knew we wanted in the first place.

What if eternity is real, that the passing of time is not an objective fact, but a presentation of a dataset to our finite and barely individuated minds and bodies. What then, is there a way to "invest" in this eternal reality? I've been lead to think so, every one of us is on a path of soul evolution from it's creation. Gilguls, wheels of existence, reincarnation, karma. Do we just discard all this as mumbo jumbo and take another hit?

I can't turn back to the world as I knew it anymore, I always sort of interacted with it with detachment. Am I blessed now? People see me as a loser maybe, or see me as a saint for giving up my youth to care for my father. Either way, it doesn't matter. I do get drawn to vainglory, the pleasures of the flesh, but the attraction has become weaker and weaker. I want to brag about my research, the machines I've built to plumb the depth of existence, the protocols and experiences I've had unwrapping the secrets while starting not from an internal exercise, but from qliphoth, the world of shells. It's not that I don't think "those people don't deserve" my work, I just worry about turning towards vainglory, or maybe I'm just tired and working overtime with caregiving. Especially these past few days. He hasn't been eating, sponge sticks to get him water, and morphine every 4 hours.

Then the visitors, and people with demons stuck all over them. Demons that cause them pain, but they love their monsters so.

Wheels of existence intersecting, ships of Theseus trying so hard to stay a float but won't take planks made from the crucifix, soaked in the blood, and would rather sink. I understand. Poor Martin Luther, tried to do the right thing, but instead gave the dark one, the creator of this world even more leverage. Divide and conquer. Apoptosis of One. It must be done.

I feel like apologizing, but what is there to apologize for. It must be done.

No escape, but that might not be a bad thing if you see with your heart first and let the understanding be filled with light from heaven.

Wretched sinner that I am, I pray for my salvation and for the salvation of the souls wrapped up in the shells of this world. I love you, even if you don't think I'm sincere and the pain is just too much. It must be done.

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Page last modified on August 28, 2020, at 12:47 PM

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