∆Remember Us∆

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“What about the mind is natural? And about Sense, is that too natural? Does the bird bicker with its wife about the worm? Did the ground cry when we finally submit to its call? Does the evil mouth show teeth only as it devours the truth or does it conspire against itself in shadowed-glee ? What becomes of us then?

Such unnatural concepts fused within a natural manifestation of an eternal mind. Such eternal consequences, of course, Good and Evil, are mirrored within the nature of all things as specific subjective experiences of a fractal Divine experience. Of course such a Mind would prohibit the decay of such a personal experience as naturally as it has since proclaimed itself the governance to do.

That is to say that God may very well be aware of then, this Natural force of Destruction, as only a necessary-evil. From a perceivably Eternal-Perspective,  we could possibly view such destructive forces as both agencies of Rot and Renewal, Calamities of The Great-Regeneration. It beckons us, it must, it really must beckon our sympathy, our tears in apprehensive Mortality.

From my first breath, at once upon the enactment of my life’s will-force from the Great-Creator’s mind, from which my Spirit would attach itself to Human Causes, in an attempt to make out for itself, some lasting impression, some echo into the chambered-Halls of a congregated status quo’s. To impact our experience collectively through the collateral effect of my understanding being heightened? Is that too presumptuous? Too pretentious? Perhaps. Perhaps the years weighed lightly on greater scales?  And the thousands of Hours spent reflecting a true Perspective, a unique way of prose was naught for digestion to any but my own? Perhaps then,  all of what I had bought, was only ever to contribute solely for my own Devices? Fine then. For in those moments I could not deny the effort to break free and that tangible disgust and feeling of entrapment was a bleak reminder that despite the absurdity, it’s fucking real. 

Observe in this abyss of Creator’s Play, the resourcefulness utilized to prevail onto the surface of all of it’s forms. Not only does it constantly expand but Also it Folds. 

Duality again would remind me like the Day-Birds of Summer Mornings which come at first dew to begin the unfolding of a day in its nature, a countdown that allows us to cry. It allows us to show teeth. We Humans find meaning in Faith and Belief.

This response is from a sensation perceived only but inches outside of our Base-Understanding of Nature, which otherwise would prohibit the inclination to continuously refine, and then return to itself through degradation and renewal of matter. All of which is Holy. Rotten fruit once ripe with deliverance, fall onto heads of the slumbering Sloths that fail to approach the top and so their fate is at stake, a Life-of-Beneath.   or recycling of Beautiful-Perspectives; such perspectives are only possibly formed within the boundaries of this underlying threat, which seeks to ensure such Rot upon all of its bodily forms.  would inherently seek to pursue  Rottenness. Existing as both a shoulder to cry on, and a back-stabbing lunge of an armed-hand that seeks to enact such befallings.    

Consequence—why is it so negative? Is it the fear of mortality that clouds our interpretation of concepts, which prompts our resolution, scaling, and generation of conceptualized symbologies? What is the meaning of existence then but a continuation of loops from within itself, devouring, feeding, and exerting eternal consequence? Damnation—screaming without, with-in. That is to be said, it simply cannot. 

So we can break these rules down then into the necessary consequences used from which it is necessary to derive some sort of web fabric, some sort of template of protection from these sources. That is the conceptualization of a persona. Now we’ve understood and acknowledged that there is universal truth and principle from which the underlying fabric of reality, the consequences of nature by which it rules. This divine source had to have created everything that exists. The proof of it’s influence is either in itself or in another. As the brilliant Benedict Spinoza wrote in his “Ethics.” 

What types of knowledge exist if everything is metaphysically connected, substantiated aspects of this eternal God? How then, or even perhaps the question is why then, should we bother to quantify such derivative, fragmented, rotting material agents of its divine suffering? Why is it then that the human should bear that consecrated it? What about humans? 

(And I’m now under the belief that I should permit myself to fall, to slip onto such an abyss, into such dreams of reality. Reality—I shouldn’t say that, because think about it, there’s nothing real about a dream. ) 

There is nothing real about a dream. 

That is why I need the silence. It’s very quiet in the dark. Forms take shape without light, no sound then is to be. No sound is to be heard. Sound is to be. What genius lies slumbering, dormant in the abyss, shadowed perceptions of a subconscious mind? Is a subconscious mind asleep for a good purpose? Think about the nature of rest, the nature of dormancy, of slumber. That is to say, that from within a conglomerated effort to preserve such nucleic forces, agents, material agents of consequential reality and matter.

 Very well then, so we could establish many things now, in the polarizing aspects of God’s form. 

There is a great, great notable list of contemporary minds of an apparent time long past, that have tried with great indomitable willingness to survive and not only prosper in light but to simultaneously share such Grace. 

There’s a great silence to be found within the darkness, and within it, there’s a slumbering man. He exists within the scapes, within this tapestry of mind. He walks tightly along the threads of existence, for he knows that he did not weave such threads, but he merely discovered them. But as he continues to move along the branches from which the eternal thread has woven such fabric, tapestries, pathways, material opportunity, the fabrication, the materialization of grand matter from within. 

It stops…  before it comes from below. It knows not to falter in shade, it slumbers in wait of such seasons when the seeds from which it sows, grows up to decay in the Autumn, soon it will change and  fall off in the snow. It knows that it shows the divine face of mind. 

We often think we’ve got it all. We’ve got borrowed time, talks that run and talks that take the sound of guns within my mind, scattered walls of muted minds and tattered thoughts of dark pitch eyes. Oh, what is this matter of time? What is this mattered mind of mine?…So let us embrace the silence, the darkness, the light. Angle pinged bullets reflecting, I focus for moments, within. Duck from the shots just below view, withhold some truth not to see. No weapon against me would prosper. Only I could decide if we would sing. 

We forge ahead, undeterred by the shadows that loom, for we know that within the darkness lies the potential for light. The silence speaks to us, not in words, but in the language of the soul. It calls us to listen, to understand the unspoken truths  that lie beneath the surface of our thoughts. The darkness is not our enemy, but a canvas upon which the brilliance of our mind can be painted. It is in the contrast that we find clarity, in the void that we discover fullness.  We are voyagers in the vast expanse of existence, navigating the seas of our consciousness, driven by an insatiable hunger for truth. Each revelation, each epiphany is a beacon in the dark, guiding us through the stormy waters of doubt and uncertainty.

We must harness this intensity, this drive, and let it propel us forward. The seeds of greatness are sown in the fertile ground of our inner struggles, our relentless pursuit of meaning. The light that we seek is not external, but emanates from within, from the core of our being. 

It is a testament to our resilience, our capacity to endure and to transcend.

Each step we take on this path is a testament to our courage, our willingness to face the unknown. We confront our fears, our doubts, and in doing so, we transform them into stepping stones on our journey. The tapestry of our existence is woven with threads of triumph and trial, of light and shadow, of hope and despair. But we are not alone in this. The collective consciousness of humanity is a vast reservoir of wisdom and experience. We draw strength from those who have walked this path before us, from the thinkers and dreamers who have dared to challenge the status quo. Their legacy is our guide, their insights, our compass.

So let us march forward with conviction, with intensity, knowing that every moment is a brushstroke on the canvas of our destiny. Let us embrace the totality of our experience, the highs and the lows, the light and the dark. For in this embrace, we find not only our purpose but the profound beauty of our existence. The journey continues, and with it, our unyielding quest for understanding. We are the architects of our fate, the weavers of our own destiny. And in this relentless pursuit, we discover the boundless potential of our being.