Talking to void

[RoyalFool]

Hello, im not sure what ill title this, perhaps ill get there as I move along this piece…

I’ve been writing two books, one fiction one nonfiction, I figured it would be good to explore those two basic categories of ideas. As I get older I return to my knowledge as a child, that real and unreal are not so distinct— or rather their distinction is often different than is connoted socially. I’m tired and lost, currently, had a bit to drink of wine and coffee, I often find myself in a meaningless daze… it isn't so bad. I’m not terribly reliant on substances… I don’t know. I never really feel good enough. So many mistakes, even if they are little, they take up so much space within me. Faults and flaws, the bigger I get the more evenly I feel split between light and darkness.

Am I writing to Leo or to someone on this site? I don’t know, I don’t think so. Why am I typing this out at all. I took a walk earlier today, I find the sky to judge me, an overbearing weight and terror, curl up on the ground, danger… illogical. How would that help me. I keep walking, I always do. The voice that tells me ill pass out or drop dead while crossing the street is once again wrong. Why do I feel these stupid fucking illusions.

I wander on a path throughout my city, one of several ill tend to go down, until some panic overtakes me and my goal switches to get home. I don’t want to be so neurotic, the anxiety can be crippling, purposeless drudgery of existence. I don’t feel fun very often, I don’t like people very much… I wish I did. I wish I wasn’t an autistic mess with angry thoughts and painful memories. I wish my parents had looked at me more as a child, judged me less, did better as people. Loved themselves more… 

What is the point? I feel there isnt one, I don’t want to set one either. For many years I wished I ceased to exist, for a few years I have stopped wanting that, I accept life more easily today. I am not in as much pain. I don’t want to feel alone. I look into another’s eyes and I feel more alone than when I am. It isnt fair, or is it. I don’t know. I beg a god I don’t believe in to grant me powers or gifts I know arent coming. Which god? The source? Allah? That which is not formless all isness? Dammit Leo how are you doing it, persisting in the dissolution and seeming strong… maybe you get to live the life you want. I don’t , I want to. I beg for life to change and to be able to feel pleasure, to not drown in meaningless boredom and monotonous drivel in a world I wish would burn.

Ring around again, again, I don’t know where im going. Darling please comfort a friend, I might not be, come morning. 

Ah. Ranting. Venting on the internet to nobody but my reflection. I know I don’t read other peoples shit, why would they read mine. People arent that interesting, im not that special, patterned repetitions of existence, an ego thinking its all that… We speak and speak and nothing new seems to emerge, a dull loop of reality we grow comfortable with and forget we’re repeating. Is there karma im burning up, preventing me from living life the way I want to? Need I manifest it kween with greater dedication? I don’t want to feel like I’m in a cage anymore. My mind and thoughts this body these people! It could be worse. It can be better. How…

I can’t afford it. I don’t want to work for those people. I can’t support these systems… man… I don’t know how people do it. I learned I wont disappear when I die and that keeps me going, don’t want to live or die, just am; being. No one else really helps, I’ve never encountered altruism unless it earns them something. I daydream in cartoonish fantasy depictions of a world I wish this was. I scream out rambles and say nothing much. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. At least I can speech. I’m still sane, have my words and education, isnt knowledge within illusion so great! WHAT IS THE POINT OF GROWTH WITHIN SAMSARA!… 

I don’t know… I got to vent a little. I don’t want to feel so alone. I don’t want to be poor or recover from shitty fuck fucked up shit that fucked me up fuck shit fuck. Ahem… anyways. I miss what hope felt like, purpose. I go on just to go, I don’t feel any other choice. Death will one day take me, I pursue health and greatness to the best of my ability, constant improvement, always forward, more, better, keep going… please let me have power and meaning. I want this world to change and I want to be content and comfortable. 

Goodnight, take care. 

D

[RoyalFool]

Alan Watts Rascal of a God

 

I ascribe to all phenomena having purpose, any thing has reason to it, even if unknown. Many things are unconscious and guide people from the shadows, it is their reason which you seek to fulfill, and it is those guides which conflict with your will. When man gazes into the abyss he reclaims his left hand, the right can then gain purchase on his directed will.

I have only known tyranny within chaos, but never order. That burgeoning light had to grow within me and infect the world, it was through perception of intense desire to not be that I found my core, center, the void of nirvana. This world is wrought of fools who twist chaos and claim it to be orderly, knowing not that god alone who rests behind their eyes, sees right unto the world.

Light and dark, positive and negative, good and evil. All are good and bad only when one misunderstands, each act as pivots on a pendulum, leverage, forces. + and -, there is utility and reason for life and death. They require one another in their proper place, all that is, is perfect, though disorganized. We direct.

Do not mistake the perceptions you held in younger age, nor the beliefs you now uphold, to be how things are. We all fall in that trap, “ah now I get it”. No.. we are never to “get it”, the point in itself is error

That grasping for ledges and clarity, stumbling of mortals. We who rest easy in the void, liberated, free, sovereign. Then, now, later, right, wrong, neutral. These are the 10,000 things, there is no point, no reality in them. We watch the leaves racing down a river, attaching self unto a leaf of our choosing, we forget neither the leaf or I upon the shore exist. God alone is, knowledge and unfoldment within oneself. Even when you get it, the it will be elsewhere. Such is the transience of life.

When the black, the white, halves of my mask are not in quarrel, there is a me behind the self which speaks as voice for god. surely this too is illusion, though closer to purity, he presses on the windowsill of formlessness, glaring through the clear glass. I was before the earth, so too shall I be after. This chaotic mess, a swirling whirl within the still pool of IS. When currents shift we too settle again into stillness. 

As tornado currents chase each other forming tendrils down to earth, so too do formless forces emerge as us. The yin and yang as lovers, each unique, all the same. We are lightning. We are the seas and sky. There is nought which is not I, and yet we contradict this within thought, for perfection may contradict, rules are that of children playing games. What is, is. We reason from that, reason does not create that. Though it too can, as chicken and egg beget one another, you see. To master the elements, to know God, self, the Is. This is the easiest way to be, the wise are most at rest. 

As rain does not choose to fall, so are the sages actions. In form we are formless, baffling the rest.

 

If this is self promotion I am sorry, I’m doing my best. Be well.

Edited September 24, 2022 by RoyalFool

[RoyalFool]

Painting the Roses Red

An obsession with fantasy and delusion guide much of human action, we seek to change the fruit or flower itself while avoiding the connected processes, the soil and root are too dirty and beneath us, we waste time and complain because we want to be inefficient, it is a dedicated lifestyle choice which alleviates perceived responsibility or blame, it is a short term strategy which allows failure to grow into a monster which you or another must one day face; debt is the lifestyle of a coward, the easy path to hell.

You will realize that it is not individual occurrence but entire patterns of being which require total transformation, death and rebirth, in order to achieve the desired goal. You are not willing to die to yourself to achieve your goals, you will cheat, you will wimp out, you will choose the path to hell because you refuse to be good, and even your goals in themself will be revealed as wicked coping mechanisms. It was a conscious choice you chose and keep choosing, which sprawled into a pattern, one lie, one refusal of duty or using sickness to escape class. Your choices become you, life is fair.

Your way will likely never work but you lack humility, it is you which must adapt to new ways. Take no joy in feeling good enough, be thankful you never can be. Never stop improving. Pride and self sufficience is delusion meant to sway the scales of right and wrong to not be judged by a standard “before God”, to make believe a grading system that always lands me as winner. It is your refusal to do what is best that prevents what is best from appearing, I believe bad luck to work in this unconscious way, it is moral virtue and courage which shines light on the unconscious. People would benefit from giving up their freedom for a time to a superior, follow orders from another who has good intention, as you yourself often don’t have good intentions, your thoughts often lie. After all, they’re yours.

It is your pride that makes you slave to self as tyrant.

You fail because there is more of you which wants to fail than is of you which wants success, no one wants to be told their illness or abuse is their creation, that the crumbling of their life is by their hand, but often it is just such the case; when I say often or generalize, it is in high likelihood I speak directly to you.

It is your choice to be a victim. It is a state of being, not something experienced.

You have white roses and you work for a tyrant, did she ask for red or white? She wants red now, and what she said before has long been forgotten by her, a spoiled predator of convenience. You work for a demon and are unfit to complain about potential beheading. 

Become someone noble, who works for the greater good, be honest and good, and don’t support those who are corrupt, especially if it’s part of you. Every choice you make matters. Do not value the favor of a corrupt kingdom, be rid of those connections entirely.

The colorless and quick to kneel will keep on painting roses, your head isn’t worth so much. Smile at the guillotine and know that you are good 

“I didn’t choose for this to happen!”

Sayeth the fool who knoweth not even WHOMST thou art!

Toodles.

Edited September 24, 2022 by RoyalFool

[RoyalFool]

Even if this is read… your attention will waver, you will misunderstand points, and something deep within you will ensure no great change occurs; these are the traits of your people, you have lost the will to live so long ago you cannot even recall what it tastes like. 

Something in you will protest, as it often does, which says, “no you are mistaken! I clearly know, or am on the right track, my way has worked so far!”… You will continue to be mundane. Unchanging. Unlearned. An enemy to growth, love, and wisdom. You will continue to hurt yourself, hurt others, damage everything around you, and then your mind will cover it and you will go on without knowing. You will continue in your belief: To place your heart in lies. You are afraid to be alone, you might see what you are. 

You might see what I see.

You will not make efforts to realize much of anything, and exist as an animal. Man meaning ‘mind’, woman meaning ‘womb and mind’. Only the intelligent are human, it says so in our very wording, as it was always known to mean. Those of our era are the dumbest there has ever been, for we are not slaughtered when proven inconvenient, we are allowed to live as wastes, to destroy any semblance of good in the world without consequence. To not know, when you could know, is Evil. Our laws promote evil and incompetence, the stupid are like cattle who may harm their kin, but cannot escape the fence to hurt the farmer. 

You were groomed to be a slave, believing you are free.

You could always know. Your mistakes are your choice, this world is your decision. Look out upon the world, the good and bad, and know you are its creator. 

Discern: perception without judgment. Who are you to judge a thing in this world? You cannot even sense what you are, your boundaries are fuzzy, senses dull and deceptive, covering yourself with additional ‘skills’ like makeup and glamour; your core has remained as it always was, stagnant, infantile. A seed still dormant. 

You alter the body, which is not you. You alter the mind, which is not you. The soul is not you either, though more so than the former two. You are more like the mind than the body, more so still the soul, but in the end all things are only metaphors of truth. In the end there is no self at all, and all the world dissolves in this awareness. Your body, thoughts, and feelings are as real as what occurs within a story on a page or screen. 

You mistake the term ‘material’ for ‘real’. 

‘It matters’ 

Important: Worth having.

‘I am’ becomes just am. Slowly, it may take trillions—yes that many, of lifetimes to realize the truth of it. Then even the am, the isness that permeates all experience, that too is realized to be nothing. This is, in fact, despite all appearances… What nothing looks like. Empty space, so many names. Only an appearance. Only lies.

You only think in things, and thus can know nothing. For thoughts and knowledge have no thing in common, no amount of pointing at the moon will ever let you touch it. So too are all your thoughts, your perceived ‘doing’. You have only and ever after only been, you are. You do not exist, and no act is ever done. You experience a dream and in your ignorance attach to it, claim it to be real. Language tricks us, muddies up the world, reality is woven just as stories are. It wraps you up. You want it to be real and so it is, in relation to you. That first lie you believed is yourself. Once that lie is gone the rest of it all tumbles down into nothing, and you realize the error of it all. You stop looking at the screen and realize, “ah, this was never me. It was as though a dream, every character arising, and the one I claimed to be.” 

You are addicted to the game, no matter how much it hurts, you come back like a junkie. Life after life. The highs and lows, you get high on life, find love, wealth, happiness.. disease, loss, and death. You desire more than anything to be tormented. 

[RoyalFool]