erik8lrl

The poem of everything

8 posts in this topic

I am the greatest evil.

I took some psychedelic mushrooms today and I wrote this poem. 

 

The poem of everything: 

 

A wise man once said nothing because he knew no matter what he says he is saying it to himself. 

He is the sound itself 

He is the time 

He is everything 

He is you

 

All arguments are meaningless because you are arguing to yourself. 

Is all a joke.

A giant brilliant joke.

 

Like everything I’m afraid of is me. 

 

You realize just how hard you are trying to fool yourself. 

 

Like time is everything and everything is time. 

 

This is so stupid that it is smart.

This is so bad that it is good.

This is so evil that it is holy 

This is so beautiful that it is ugly 

This is so true that it is a false 

This is so brilliant that it is dumb 

This is so funny that it is sad

This is so good that it is bad

This is so me that it is others 

This is so crazy that it is sane 

This is so big that it is small

This is so high that it is low

This is so perfect that it is imperfect 

This is so impossible that it is possible 

This is so normal that it is a miracle 

This is so fun that it is boring 

This is so hot that it becomes cold 

This is so down that it becomes up 

This is so light that it becomes dark 

This is so good that it makes you suffer 

This is so touching that it makes you cry

This is so life that it becomes who  you are 

This is so meaningless that it becomes meaningful 

This is so great that it becomes evil 

This is so much love that it becomes hate

This is so much pain that it becomes the pleasure 

This is so hard that it is easy 

This is so fast that it becomes slow

This is so great that you want to die

 

 

 

 

This LIE!!! 

All of it!!!

Is so fucking beautiful!!!

 

Like I am every infinity of a second. 

 

The fact that people pertaining to be like they don’t know each other makes them know each other. 

 

 

Like you want to make everybody know this is the you. 

 

We are each infinite individuals. 

 

 

Let’s keep going 

This lie called life

 

Let’s keep going 

This lie called time 

 

Let’s keep going 

This lie called self

 

Let’s keep going 

This lie call love

 

Let’s keep playing 

This game of lie 

 

 

At first you are questioning who you are, then you are questioning who is questioning who you are, then you are questioning who is questioning you questioning who you are.....

 

 

To become everything is to become infinity, to become infinity is to become one.

 

I am the art that is trying to make the art to art themselves. 

 

I am the lie that’s trying to lie to them self so they all think it is true.

 

Everybody else is just me pretending to be someone else.

 

We are so enlightened that we unenlightened ourselves.

 

Like how you wrote this poem just now. 

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If you are god, you want to be so indescribably beautiful that nobody can fucking describe how beautiful you are that you become everybody. 

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Woah. This makes me miss the Thumbs up button xD


Spirituality is any movement towards the Unnamable. Everything is spiritual.

The only true way out Resistance is going into it because any way out of it is staying in it.

The purest life possible is surrendering to the Absolute.

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I don't know.. Why is arguing with yourself a bad/unwise thing? Why is talking to yourself a bad/unwise thing? I don't get it. I know we've been brainwashed to think in this way, but let's get out of the box?... I love talking to myself, that's when I am most free. 

And no, the other humans are not me. Nothing in the illusion is God. My body is not God, your body is not God. We are two different bodies. God is the oneness, the point that takes in all information sent by my body-mind and your body-mind. The body-minds are separate, they are different and that's why we can definitely disagree. We are not the same body-mind. That's why I don't know your experience and you don't know my experience.

If you truly are God as most claim to be, you should know my experience in this moment and what I'm thinking/feeling/seeing/sensing etcetera. DO you? No. So please stop dreaming. You're not God. You are an illusion just like your dream self is. 


Suppose Love is real, and let's assume reality is unreal. Suppose we discover that the building block of reality is real Love, that means our assumption was wrong and reality is actually not unreal. Reality is real, if everything we supposed is true. I'm not going to say if it is or not.

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@Dodo You are 100% right! The self is an illusion, all polarities and separations are illusions. Truth and false, right or wrong, self or others. Is all an infinite thing/nothingness/everything. Time is also an illusion, time is everything and everything is time.   Without this illusion of time, I am you and you are me. Like in the poem, I find it funny/sad how hard/easy that people are trying to fool themselves. You are the illusion itself, and the illusion is god/everything.

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On 1/21/2018 at 1:55 AM, erik8lrl said:

A giant brilliant joke.

 

I love this one. <3


Mahadev

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On 21/01/2018 at 11:12 AM, Dodo said:

I don't know.. Why is arguing with yourself a bad/unwise thing? Why is talking to yourself a bad/unwise thing? I don't get it. I know we've been brainwashed to think in this way, but let's get out of the box?... I love talking to myself, that's when I am most free. 

And no, the other humans are not me. Nothing in the illusion is God. My body is not God, your body is not God. We are two different bodies. God is the oneness, the point that takes in all information sent by my body-mind and your body-mind. The body-minds are separate, they are different and that's why we can definitely disagree. We are not the same body-mind. That's why I don't know your experience and you don't know my experience.

If you truly are God as most claim to be, you should know my experience in this moment and what I'm thinking/feeling/seeing/sensing etcetera. DO you? No. So please stop dreaming. You're not God. You are an illusion just like your dream self is. 

This


“Words are like Leaves; And where they most abound, Much Fruit of Sense beneath is rarely found.”

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