Thought Thirty Five

Delete them. Delete them all.

Nothing lays beyond the white sands. Just madness. Who’s to say the dragons aren’t real when speaking of madness. Not I say he. Not I said me. Nothing no one said…

Two spoke. One listened. Who was the wiser one? Not I say me, Not I said he. But the dragon, he spoke not at all.

I was the dragon, a product of madness who did not speak at all.

I have never been as crazy as I am today and tomorrow across the white sand, when I find myself anew, a dragon to accompany me, I will be, just as I am me, a bit crazier than thee.

Madness is always about perspective.

Seeking wisdom like a treasure of gold across the sand. Your companions may change from time to time as the shifting winds and sand do so. Still, the journey doesn’t end. Not now, not in a thousand million years. Not in this place, nor this now. I will remember. I will sing all of their names. It is then that I shall lay down my head to sleep and await a new day. A new time. To begin again what started very long ago.

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Thought Thirty Four

Everyone is so afraid. 

They are afraid to live, they are afraid to die. 

Reentering the dating world in my fifties has been an eye opener. Every woman that I meet is in a near “thrice gods damned” panic. It isn’t fun to watch, much less to feel.

So they fill their world up. They fill it up with tasks (I have so many things to do), they fill it up with children, they fill it up with exercise and CrossFit, they fill it with rescue dogs and rodeo committees, and so on.

Some of them leave their TVs on all night to gird against the dark. They sleep with their children in their bed. They take a man unknown to bed to not be alone. And even when they sleep with that man, they masturbate alone even with him present.

So much fear.

This hurricane Harvey stirred such fear. Fear of the storm, fear of the flood, fear of job loss, fear for children, on and on. So much fear that the daemons that walk in the night have gotten their fill long before they decide to haunt my dreams. I woke this morning with seven distinct knocks. I arose and went to the door knowing there would be no one there. I played it back in my mind multiple times and recounted the knocks.

Seven.

Writing this feels dangerous. The air swirls and thickens with those that are better not spoken of or known. Still, knowledge is knowledge regardless of what a daemon wants or feels. My body is afraid. I know this is a hard-wired human response even as I feel my mind unafraid.

Fear; That is what all of these women are afraid of.

That is the common denominator among the denizens of match.com, Eharmony and all of the others. Of the lady that is introduced to me by friends, of the cashier in HEB where I bought my water and food, the woman that wanted me to go to bed with her.

Fear. A four letter word much more potent than any simple swear word. It takes up residence in your mind and crawls into your soul. Then your life becomes Hell. You live in Hell. Heaven and Hell are a state of mind, not a place you go to. Your forever now becomes Hell. I know, I have lived in Hell forty of the fifty-four years I have crawled around on this ball of mud. When you have lived in Hell as long as I have, fear eventually burns out of your mind. Yes, my body still reacts, but my mind is unafraid.

I will not be consumed with fear. Because fear is just pain in a different form. There is no way around pain, there is only through it. So I will take this fear and make it my own. I will consume this pain/fear. Chew it up and swallow it like a poorly cooked steak at your mother in laws house. You hate it, but you eat it anyway. Then I will defecate it out of my body. It will go to the place it truly belongs. Floating in the stinking sewers, pain, and fear.

 

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​Thought Thirty Three

It feels like truth to me, that indeed the fury of these storms neigh hurricanes, are indeed a god daemon’s in interaction with the particular reality.

Is this what Jesus did when rebuking a god daemon?

Invoking his god against another lesser god?

Or perhaps invoking the inverse principle and become so small as to be the all. In being the all become a god of unknowable per portions that could destroy anything.

But at that point would a god or Jesus be interested enough to engage at such a micro level? Perhaps that is the part that keeps him human in a small degree.

All of these little dramas. All of this life and death that rage at the hands of each other and the gods themselves. These moments that attract the wandering attention of the gods.

The ultimate play is life itself.  So said the Greeks in antiquity and so many others lost through history. Eventually and in finality, we all must walk alone.

As the gods themselves. And in this the actor becomes the watcher. Godhood is a dead end in evolution with insanity as a destination. The truth is hard and scary. Few choose to know, for knowing itself becomes a form of death of the self.

And a rejoining of the all.

A lonely road, an uncertain future across unknowably vast reaches of time and space.

Perhaps Dan Abnett got it right when he spoke of the vast cold reaches of the warp in the 40k universe.

Truth hides in strange places.

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Thoug​ht Thirty One

They think too small.

I went to a shaman gathering and enjoyed the group experience. The dynamics were interesting and the people pleasant. However, most were looking for answers to questions they had within themselves. To ask a god a question and then expect anything more than the god to be bothered. The hubris!

Gods are the ultimate narcissistic sociopaths. To expect anything beyond contempt is to expect physics to reverse itself.

My thought in all of this, is perhaps they are thinking too small. These gods are “small” by nature. To think otherwise would expect the sun to be interested in an ant on earth. Most gods aren’t even vaguely aware of us.

When I experienced being in the presence of Hanuman, I felt exactly that. Like an ant with the sun. Any more attention than that and I would have been obliterated.

Thoug​ht Thirty

They live in a box.

They happily proclaim and exhort to others around them to live in the same box. That it is the best box. That they are grateful for the box. The sides are smooth and the cardboard of excellent materials.

Leading people astray.

I think this may have been what Jesus spoke about when he talked about false prophets. Leading people toward no growth. Towards remaining a child emotionally.

By the eight billion gods, I hate that.

Of course, this is through my emotional filter know today is “death day” when my brother killed himself.
Still, I will watch and live among a thousand billion lives wasted and lost. Going forward without a single memory, without anything learned.

Thoug​ht Twenty Nine

Do you think about beyond the why?

I picked up and crushed a large bug that had made its way onto my kitchen floor. The bugs body burst with a sickening release in the doubled up paper towel.
I thought to myself, well you will return quicker that way. It gave me pause thinking about the why.
Why the gods? Why reincarnate?
What is beyond all of this?
Is there something beyond “the all” that is beyond the gods?
I think there is.
I just don’t know what it is.
And that scares me a little.