Letting honesty pervade in slivers, and Noah’s arc -when all hell breaks to watch it march, to bottom of the sea. Free. I too shall dissolve like the fiery dream, on purpose in a hellish fort of thoughts, where all-in lies and all-in pops.
Its funny how an excess of me, drowns in the water instead of drinking in it, and a devout Jew looks at his saviour and asks him,”When are you coming?”, until he dies of old age at the altar, kneeling in pain and writhing a handkerchief that says Jesus Loves Me.
Where is the section of the people, that keep us for days. Hanging. Where is the truth that is hidden in plain sight? Is it in the milky way that holds up a sign on a busy road, and hopes only that the people would take happiness into account as an option. Will he truly be happy?
No, for when he’s sad, sadness is the only thing that he’ll want to see, and in nothing else will he believe. Sadness becomes yourhis world and the nightmare that consumes youhim for days becomes inconsequential like a chatter in the background. No one is adept in learning this by themselves, and no one is adept in figuring out why it takes them so long to come out of hair shells on the he shore ; and be who they want to see. A merry-go-round with no friction and a lose cannon attached to its tippy-toes.
A world of duality, with no resolution.
There is a resolution.
The blue solution is God. A litmus test for all tests. What is God? A creator, a paedophile, or a penis pump? Sounds like he’s having a lot of fun punishing me for no reason. Or maybe he’s mad about all the floods, the tycoons, the Ebola, and the whimsical nature of nature. He’s enjoying it, or feeling bad about it – but yet he cant do anything about it. Like an ass-hole, he’s watching it happen and enjoying it while it goes deeper inside the vaginal lemon that is natural conception. Which means that alas, I’m done! I’m done praying to him, cuz he cant do anything about it.
What if I’m God at that point. I’m the master of my own destiny? Na, too dangerous and scary. I don’t have any control over my own self, and yet I have an illusion of self control – wherein I can hold my breath but cant stop my heart beat. All walks of life, matters of the unknown have a sense of reverence in their play. All play all the time. Mind melts like chocolate, and we cant enjoy what we see in our own minds.
We restrict ourselves and we fade away into the dark. But were we born this way? Were we born to be stuck in a loop of sadness and happiness? Why celebrate death as a duality to happiness and life? Why have processions that make us remember the death? Why need a ritual to be happy or to let go of the deceased? When will my masters truly let me breathe in peace and let us be who we want to be?
What if you’re your own master? What if you’re God. What if you have everything that it takes to get out of this Universe, and yet you slow down and come back to the Universe again – because you want to liberate everyone nearby. What a shady agenda!
Shady indeed, but quite informative. Giving matter a new name and calling it a fish, changes the fact of the matter in a way most designed to fulfil the precious needs of the matter-kind. Mind matters, and matter minds the fact that you’re referring to it in the third person. It is all about you, and the creator that built the world in 3 days and rested on day 7, and created a place called Heaven when he was dream sleeping.
What if Heaven was a dream by God?