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Traps
Aug 13, 2022 23:36:39 GMT -5
Post by Vicky on Aug 13, 2022 23:36:39 GMT -5
There is purity in spontaneous thought. Thought which exists in the present alone, and not in the past or future. Thought which emanates from the circumstance at hand. This is different from the thought of law which is inscribed on stone, because such law intends to bleed into the past and future. The thought of law abstracts whereas spontaneous thought penetrates. The thought of law intends to be objective and apply to the whole of society, whereas spontaneous thought is never objective, rather it is always subjective. Every person has their own means of expressing spontaneous thought, so spontaneous thoughts can contradict themselves at times because they are suited to a different individual. The thought of law has created numerous instruments or vessels throughout our world which contain spontaneous thought. These vessels, these chalices, are good and necessary. Without them there would be no way to rear and educate the young, and no way to initiate adolescents into the rites and rituals of a culture. However, when one becomes an adult, it becomes important to perceive these vessels as being permeated with this pulsating energy of spontaneous thought which has been locked up. It also becomes important to remember that the thought of law has created numerous traps where people become tied up within systems of language and are not able to perceive the original spontaneous thought of those systems. This feels like having one's feet bound together and their arms chained to a pole. You could hop around in circles around the pole discussing every implication of the definition of a term without considering what was the thought of the person who defined the term in the first place. Perhaps the people who defined those terms find amusement in watching those people hop around and play with the way they defined terms. Of course, it is often sad that it is our humanity that binds us because it is the brain chemicals which make us human that tie us up when they are manipulated by the psycholinguistics of those words. So perhaps it is the most human among us who get bound the most.
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Traps
Aug 13, 2022 23:46:05 GMT -5
Post by Vicky on Aug 13, 2022 23:46:05 GMT -5
I'm not questioning my identity anymore. I just wish I knew where I came from, where I am, or where I am going. I wish I knew my provenance, my providence, and my prominence. I wish I knew my nature, my grace, and my glory. I wish I knew what kind of starseed I am or what star system I am from. I wish I knew how to eat and how to sleep. I wish I could commune with subterranean networks of gnomes and arboreal elves. I wish I could cry, I wish I could yell. I wish I could touch what some people call the Alien Essence.
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Traps
Aug 23, 2022 2:32:30 GMT -5
Post by Vicky on Aug 23, 2022 2:32:30 GMT -5
Something is being weaved in the aether. Far away, beyond Alpha Centauri. Meanwhile, sharp stalagmites pierce my thighs as I desperately try to twist around the tight corner and out of the borehole. No luck, I'm stuck. I try to yell for help, first nervously then louder until I can feel my throat quiver, and the echoes ring around me. The water drips and ripples, tickling my feet and making me scrunch up my toes but I can't move my legs. It's funny how effortlessly water can drip. There are little pipes above me and my shoulders are getting wetter and wetter from pieces of moist food waste of some kind. What is being weaved? Something like a succubus but mellowed out. Something abstract and hard to conceive. What is the meaning of this? This is the sewage pipe that carries me away like a stream. Sigh. The rocks have gotten too slimy. It's like being in the belly of a monster, too tight and humid. I can't wiggle my thighs and my elbows only move a touch, my mouth and nose are getting clogged and I can hardly breathe. I can sense my skeleton but the muscles around it are getting numb from the rough concrete. It's unthinkable that I'm here, I'm only a hero when I sense something being weaved in the aether. I've prepared for this my whole life but all this waste makes me retch. I release all tension from my body and begin to sink into the sewage around me. I don't need to breathe anymore; it brings strength into me, so I need the sewage to stick to me. I feel pieces of food waste dissolving into me, engineered agricultural products, many chemical concoctions of pharmaceuticals.
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