Monster Energy

I mostly agree. I’d just add that being isn’t something you secure and move past. It’s something you keep losing and returning to. Freedom shows up in that return, not in the idea

If it was, I’d be worried about myself.

God bless you

You suffer because you believe the beauty is in a person. It isn’t. If beauty were actually located in her, in her face, body, or presence, then she would produce the same effect in you every time. But she doesn’t. Sometimes there is intensity. Sometimes there is nothing. That alone exposes the truth. You are generating the experience. You are the source of beauty, meaning, and charge. The person is merely a trigger. Obsession arises when you believe she carries something essential that you lack. In reality, you are projecting the power of your own consciousness outward and becoming enslaved by your own projection. When this is seen clearly, the chase collapses. Not because the world becomes dull, but because you realize that the beauty was never in her. It was always you. Stop being a slave to a person. Reclaim the source.

I take it seriously in the sense that I think he’s pointing at something real, but I don’t treat the metaphors as literal physics. For me it’s more about the idea that consciousness never really stops unfolding, and that what we call “death” isn’t the end of that movement. Do I agree with every detail he describes? Not necessarily. But the core intuition, that formless awareness doesn’t just disappear but reshapes, that part resonates with me. So I’m open to it, but I hold it lightly.

If you take Leo’s framing seriously, the key idea isn’t really reincarnation as a cycle you’re stuck in. It’s that formless consciousness never actually stops expressing itself. There’s no “pause screen” after death where you step back and make a menu choice. The part of you that chooses only exists after a self has already formed. Formlessness isn’t freedom in the way we imagine it. It’s more like pure potential without a reference point, and potential naturally moves into expression. Not because someone forces it, but because that’s what awareness does when it isn’t holding itself still. So the real question isn’t “Why can’t I choose something else?” It’s “Who is the ‘I’ that thinks it stands outside the process?” In the way Leo describes it, you don’t reincarnate because you’re trapped. You reincarnate because existence keeps unfolding, and you’re one of the ways it happens.

I appreciate the thoughtfulness. For me the important part is simply recognizing how much translation happens the moment an experience re-enters a human mind. Whatever the source may be, it always arrives filtered, shaped, and interpreted. That doesn’t make it meaningless, it just means we stay honest about the limits of what the mind can claim.

I see what you mean, but I’m drawing a distinction because I think it matters. Wisdom may include discernment, but they don’t function the same way. One orbits insight, the other tests it. I’m just speaking to that testing part.

Easy there, Buddha boy. Even God smirks.

I appreciate you taking the time to respond. I’ll keep exploring these questions in a way that feels authentic to me, and I trust that whatever clarity I reach will come from my own process, not from trying to force a conclusion. Thank you for the exchange. Wishing you well.

You’re right that what I described overlaps with wisdom, but wisdom without discernment is just pleasant sentiment. Discernment is the part that keeps us honest. It’s what stops insight from turning into ideology, and experience from turning into dogma. If anything, wisdom grows out of discernment, not the other way around.

Leo, I understand that from your vantage point my questions look like “imagining others,” or playing mental games, or being trapped in some epistemic chicken-egg situation. But you’re presenting all those claims as if naming them makes them true. Choosing not to imagine distinctions doesn’t eliminate them, it just means you’re declaring your perspective to be the universal template. You keep telling me that any distinction I make is imaginary, while simultaneously insisting that your own distinction between Truth and illusion is not. If all distinctions collapse in Unity, then yours collapses too. If they don’t, then mine is at least worth addressing instead of dismissing. And when you tell me that nothing I think matters, or that all thought is childish nonsense, that isn’t a revelation, it’s a tactic. It turns dialogue into submission. If the only acceptable position is to stop thinking and agree, then what you’re offering isn’t awakening, it’s obedience. You say this is beyond human comprehension, yet somehow still communicable through blunt certainty. You say there is no argument for Absolute Truth, yet you insist your words describe it accurately. If you truly occupy a perspective where language is incapable of misrepresenting reality, that itself is a claim that deserves scrutiny. Not rejection, not acceptance, but scrutiny. I’m not trying to outsmart you, and I’m not trying to win. I’m trying to understand. And part of understanding is not surrendering my capacity to distinguish between an experience and the metaphysics derived from it. Feeling something as ultimate is not the same as demonstrating that it is ultimate. You say that once consciousness is high enough, feeling and ontology are the same. That might be true for you, but the fact that you tell me it’s true doesn’t make it true for me. If awakening is required, then the point is not that I agree with you, but that I verify something for myself. And verification requires more than repetition. It requires the space to think, to doubt, to examine. You accuse me of being stuck inside a mental egg, but cracking the shell by force doesn’t hatch a chick. It kills it. Growth has a rhythm. Insight has a process. And questioning isn’t the enemy of Truth. It’s the way we avoid confusing forceful conviction with clarity. I’m listening to you, Leo. I’m taking you seriously. But taking you seriously doesn’t mean I turn my mind off and call it enlightenment. With love and with my autonomy intact.

I appreciate the sentiment, but “just know Truth for yourself” can easily become a poetic way of avoiding the hard part. Discernment isn’t a mystical instinct you unlock, it’s a discipline. It requires doubt, reflection, and sometimes the humility to admit that even profound experiences can mislead us. Real inner realization comes from questioning our own certainty, not celebrating it.

You’re stepping over something important. You dismiss “private” as if the word itself were a misunderstanding, when the subjective sense of privacy is not a fiction. It’s a phenomenological reality. I have direct access to my qualia in a way I simply don’t have to yours. That doesn’t refute the Absolute. It only means the path to it still passes through a nervous system that is necessarily limited. “Become infinitely conscious, then you’ll know.” That’s the part I’m not taking for granted. You’re using your experience as the standard for what counts as knowing. But saying “you’d agree if you had my experience” isn’t an argument, it’s a circle. When you insist that what you’re talking about is not an interpretation, the issue is that everything expressed in language is a form of interpretation, even the claim that something isn’t. This doesn’t mean you’re not pointing to something profound. It simply means the statement “this is not an interpretation” is itself a linguistic move rather than a demonstration. Regarding the idea that I’m overlooking the possibility of an actual Absolute, I’m not overlooking it. I’m acknowledging that the human mind is extremely skilled at turning overwhelming experiences into ontological proclamations. That doesn’t make you wrong. It simply means the risk exists, and the risk deserves to be acknowledged. When you say that Truth doesn’t exist for me yet as something real and that I still treat it as a concept, I understand what you mean. But treating Truth as a concept doesn’t mean I’m denying its potential absolute nature. It means I’m unwilling to jump from experience to ontology without examining the jump itself. There is a difference between “this felt absolutely true” and “this is absolutely true for reality as a whole”. And when you claim that if someone is experiencing Infinity they can’t be wrong about it, you’re merging two different layers. First, introspective certainty, the sense that something is absolute. Second, metaphysical certainty, the claim that what feels absolute is universally absolute. The first is undeniable. The second requires argument, not just intensity. The experience of infinity proves that you felt infinite. It doesn’t automatically prove the structure of the universe. Certainty is real. Interpretation is optional. “Seeing red proves red exists.” Seeing red proves the experience exists. It doesn’t say anything about the metaphysics behind it. You’re mixing the feeling with the explanation. Skepticism applies to the conclusions you draw from experience, not the experience itself. Your moment may have been real to you, but the interpretation is never untouchable. To sum up, I am not dismissing your experience, Leo. I’m not even dismissing your conclusion. I’m questioning the idea that it cannot be an interpretation, and I’m not willing to collapse epistemology into an act of willpower. Mystical conviction and philosophical rigor serve different functions, and neither can replace the other.