. . . when the ever present past is an overwhelming presence future present imperfect and tense a continuous recurrence of a haunting of the familiar signals a feedback loop of the background noise so amplified a haunting repetitive ubiquity background becomes foreground background comes to the fore foreground becomes reality a given pressure cooked and stoked of obstruction a familiar assumed sort of diet of mystical sorrows figurative empty processed carbs and sugars to a bewildered soul a fattened lump of hungry soul festering hungrier dissatisfied and hungry gnawing in soul deficiency of deficit malnourished fear of loss the cacophony taken for reality taken granted for granite the struggle is real don’t feel slighted by gifted troubles don’t let reality of the struggle is real define the real cause without effect the fire you fear the curse the eternal torment of what was of what is to be avoided at all costs yet a gift subtle eternal is always singing imperceptive music underneath in the quiet of the solitude of the center there is crucible there is pulse true and beautiful faint and slight to feel the divine! Seek divine! The strewn abandoned positives are hidden deeply in the origin! The precious gifts of positives are hidden deeply in the destination! Silly beggar in the goldmine, all treasures are a living gift inherent integral to the in the now let go of that which you seek to conquer to possess like one possessed riches that make you poor including life itself the ultimate delusion you fear to lose. Love is not lost! Spare the divining rod and spoil the innocent child within. Edit the origin! Change the destination! See what really is really is hidden in rejected obscure moot regrets. Live the repast nourishing of love forgiveness of self and all around you! Tolerate not with resignation not with duty but with the care and love of Assissi! Forgive the generally accepted imposition! Clear the memory banks! The borders! Arbitrary as they are be free like the butterfly of music! Live for a day! Be attitude of positive! Or else believe it or not continue as in the image you are given free will choice to choose the wallow negative delude yourself negative go on be afraid negative to lose what you don’t have negative the caravan of fear eternal fire to fear to doubt to discontent hell is takers everywhere it comes for you as real as any terrorist gangster horde of democrat free love lice and std pc of your willful conjurance

You can only lose that which you think you had (but which you never really did have).  You cannot lose love!  Love is given to you from the creator of all creation and it no sooner leaves you than it has some miraculous transformative effect somewhere else.  You have no sooner ‘suffered’ the illusion that it has left you before it swirls around from somewhere elsewhere otherwise unexpected, working its magic transformation on you.  So no!  Don’t despair a love long lost or short lost.  It is never lost.  It is given.  We are conduits as it swirls on through.  Every moment is a joy of love!  Every moment!  Always!

What I am is a matter of semantics

Inspired by the joy inherent photo of a love long gone I decided to search, then and there, for the joy within. I look nowhere, within nothing. It is now. It is always now.  It is now, when I seek the solace of nothing silent within. Vast nothing knowing no nothing no bounds. I flow clean breath into out of the space that is the space in the space of the space. I weave through emptiness in the delusional body remembers pain, suffering, limitation until there is nothing I remember.  Alas there is no thing I, but woven stringy energy happy bliss. Nothing at all! Everything! The space is vast within! It’s a subtle thing, to feel the nothing, now, and to hear the music of nothing, ever now. It’s a subtle skill, unpracticed, that comes in the vast nothing silence melody chord. I weave a pattern in a corpus through nothing and hear the spheres sing of nothing. Loud and clear in nothing silence vast space of now. Nothing now joy nothing now joy nothing joy. And the joy reverberates for a long time with no face to smile.

Life goes and comes and happens

so I will become happy with

 

I used to fear death

all forced and drastic goodbye

 

-Against my will

-Against my being

-Against my will to be

 

But my nature is stringy beyond

 

I’ve been a quantum cat since time’s begin

dead to the extent assumed alive

 

Now that I know

I can happily

particle our wave goodbye

I go where we’re going at an accelerated pace.

Not in a hurry –

and where I go is not here.  It is wave.  It is particle.  It is light

in the fount of love

 

And though I go; am gone already

I am still dedicated to helping the slowest of them all.

The one so slow as to seem retrograde like Mars sometimes seems

in the sky.

I help the one so retrograde as that the world would want to cast away

to cast as irredeemable into some place punitive and away from

any possibility of contamination of the multitudes in the deluded world

But that is the way of the world.  Here.

We’re going not here.

We go to the fount of love, Stardust

 

And though I’m gone I’m here

Dedicated to help

There is one compelling reason to keep all thoughts positive and bright:

It is that butterflies and happy things are so much better than ‘something crawling from the slime at the bottom of a dark Scottish loch’ . . .

And this is but one life

among many

set in eternity

 

∞

∴ immaterial

∴ (not real)

 

But, that little aside put aside

The question remains:  what?

 

To gather pieces of the kaleidoscope of universal truths

scattered seemingly random – a seeming mess and piled debris

out there in everywhere

in the within which is without

which is one

with everything

 

To gather these pieces and to make them into a mosaic, unique

as only you can do

 

To make great effort with ease

To transform any sense of futility

To persevere

 

To follow-through great ease with persistence

untiring persistence

and with all the integrity one can muster

 

Integrity is caution of conformity

thrown askew willy-nilly into the high winds of wisdom

 

Invisible

Have you seen the wind?

 

And to shine

There is a moon inside our heads a ghost moon a spirit moon

Invisible

 

It reflects true light

from the living Kingdom of Heaven, Realm of Wisdom

 

That is all

But you will say, at some point in your saying, that God created the world and everything in it.  And yes, of course.  God created as Wisdom allowed but consider that the world and everything in it is a dream of God creation.  Furthermore I’m not trying to pin all the bad things in the world on God [like your ‘justifications’ always get defined into doing].  Because I know.  God created spirit things.  The real thing is the Realm of Wisdom [formerly known as the Kingdom of Heaven before you ‘realists’ ruined the term].  God created “man” in “His” [sic] image:  spirit creation made in “the image” and given “free will”.  What the concept ‘created in “His” [sic] image with free will’ really amounts to is that the spirit thing, “man”, was given all creative powers and God with “His” [sic] Wisdom “stepped” away and left the “free will” of “His” [sic] creation to get about creating.

Everything that you think is bad about this creation, everything you fear — call it “Evil” as we do — is not ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ because it is not real. It is merely a state of being not-spirit not-enlightened.  It is the state of things as they work out ever imperceptibly slowly to become the manifest Realm of Wisdom (which, in spirit form, has always been ‘at hand’ as Jesus many times stated).

Beyond its initial creation — I’ll grant that one to God/Wisdom — the world and all that is in it is nothing more than everything the creation of the Creator has created with free will.  The creation of the Creator, of course, is you and me.  (And everybody else.  And everybody that is and everybody that was).  You may say we all are dreamers, because we create in dreams.  All we see in this world is a collective dream created by creatures made in the image of the Creator and given free will license to create.  It is nonetheless not real.  At all.  The spirit is real.  The world and things of the world, including the very concept of evil, is not real.  We’ve gone and made a scary and frightening and hurtful thing.  We did.  (But there is beauty and peace and kindness too, don’t ever forget that).

 

As the math has already shown in the post previous:  the time of the unreal is as nothing when set in the context of the spirit, or of what is real!