Keepers of the Hidden Flame

KEEPERS OF THE HIDDEN FLAME

I.

The psychosexual machine of energy production and consumption; hypertrophy of the spirit (anabolism + catabolism) + the arousal of desire and drive as orientation toward biological pleasure object, the mechanism of production and reproduction of self

Mind-body unified in psyche as furnace:

The real language is the language of nature; this language is the hyperbolic chamber of sexual consciousness; the hypertrophy and atrophy, anabolism and catabolism of the sexual instinct and drive. This is the primarily sexual metabolism of consumption and production; the input and output of life as the disjecta and excrement which fuels the soil grounds of the charnel house of death, from and through which life springs. This is the lifegiving nutriment of excrement, scat, viscera, manure, decompositional materials, through which the soil of the earth acquires the lush, giving fertility also manifest in the abundant, jetting, propulsive energy of densely packed, frenetic, tarry, fiery oils; gases from the core of the earth from and produced by deep fermentation of ancient flesh of the earth and soil.

This real language is encoded intimately and ineffably into the genetic codex of man, beast, plant; all organic life which cycles and siphons through genetic formation, formulation, and reformation through space and time as in an atmospheric, nutrific container; closed and contained ecosystem of the production and consumption of essential fuels; a primary earth giving, life giving, natura giving vessel - which itself gives and takes in the creative and destructive force and cycle of consuming viscera; the catabolic harvest of death; the spring plumping of the anabolic growth of the muscular viscera of nature which passes through the fallopian tube of all things which must live and die and live again through the perpetual container of genetic passage; confluence of the book of ingredients of nature which exist as in the individuated genetic codex of each microscopic individual.

All of nature is essential constituency and constituents of fundamentally permeable cell membranes existent at each micro and macroscopic scale, shape, form, and face; this essential permeability is the perpetual, continued, acquired genetic countenance and recountenance of the shifting face of nature as in time - a face that through the reconstituation of the language of the book of nature manifest as in the organic form, or organa, the subject perpetually, ineffably, microscopically, at the level of the cilia and scales and constitution of the language which writes the organs, brains, and membranes of the cellular and multicellular and molecular organism into existence - shifts, mutates, terraforms - based on the epigenetic encounter of the organism with the multifarious, sheer, en masse jungle of nature and natural constituencies; the primary and primal magnetisms of electromagnetic nutrition - which is the single most and foremost powerful cellular generator and regenerative force in existence.

This reality returns us to the primacy and primary fact of all organisms as embodiments of the epigenetic system of natura itself, or the constituents of a massive, cosmological, universal level machine of energetic production and consumption; an essentially unified furnace which manifests in the homo sapiens at a mind-body furnace of not only sexual, or physical, intellectual, or mind, or emotional, but psychological metabolism - unified at the level of spirit and spiritus itself, or the essential indivisible aspect of Nature, or natura, at the highest level and dominion of the whole of the unfolding, in a timeless, universal sense. This mechanism unfolds, until it is awakened by the unification of the organic contents and constituents by the draught of time which suckles nature upon the bosom of itself vis-a-vis the unfolding of genetic winding and unwinding; the codex of organisms which acquire enhanced, nuanced; interrelated neuro-physiological systems culminating in higher brain activity and capacity for sophisticated abstraction and metacognition as to the interrelation of subtle psychosomatic processes unfolding in and as the physis beyond the subjectively conceived borders of ‘subject-object’ - that the organism itself acquires direct experience and apperception of the purely unconscious forces of primal, primordial, and primary language which constitute the entirety of the bio-mechanical processes of Nature herself, as she unfolds, winds, and unwinds the genetic recombinatory chemical lab of the cultivation of increasingly complex, sophisticated, biochemical organisms, compounds, and chemical reactories - by process of perennial recombination vis-a-vis time - time which is nothing more or less than the sedimentary unfolding of the essential cosmic, primordial fire; the creationary furnace of the Big Bang, explosive and expulsive principal thrust which forms the entirety of the furnace in which, of which, and as which all beings, organisms, and natura materia are constituted, digested, ingested, expelled, reconstituted in the nutrification of the expellation of the soil and grounds of being manifest as and in the core of nature and earth itself; arising again from the essential recombinative grounds of sex, death, reseeded composition as in the distillation and reduction of genetic materials, organisms, compounds, cellular memory and information; particles to their sheerest, most essential, elemental, atomic skins, forms, and essences.

This ash that is shed is the primary catabolic principle conceptualized linguistically as ‘death’; it is the ash, detritus, disjection of materially driven material to forms which achieve status as independent beings, natures, and constituents with half-lives; reactive spans of existence through which they wear the essential forces of nature and time as evolutionary pulls, drags, gravities; metabolisms of the essential furnace and furnaces of material which burn through statuses of complexity and simplicity across scales of being. This scalar status of evolutionary complexity is and signifies nothing more or less than increasing degrees of wiring sophistication as in the coding of the genetic material; additive and subtractive compounding of chemical and molecular bonds which constitute the structure and status of basic information moving through and throughout time and space. As in language, this combination and recombination of elemental forces and forms; replication and reconstitution and reshuffling of genetic cellular information is itself the speech of nature. What is requisite in and throughout this linguistic process is the catabolic staying power of eventual corrosion through the essential principles of de-reaction and sexual and asexual production via reunion and reconstitution of and through seed and ground - both of which, metastructurally, are a reduction of the constitution of complex organisms, forms, information, and genetic speech to microscopic elements in order to be reconstructed, reconstituted, and reordered and reorganized in new forms and degrees of increasing complexity (as in recombinate, genetic sexuality), and decreasing complexity (the reconstitution of the earth and soil and sedimental foundation and fabric of the rock, stone, and burning core of grounds by way of and vis-a-vis chemical dereaction and decomposition into primary materials and food of the organic body) - that the organism itself is in constant states of simultaneous chemical deproduction and reproduction; the increase of complexity of language and the decrease of complexity of language - which returns disjecta and excrement of materia (language holding information) to the nurturing grounds of food production; the essential nutrition of the furthering; continuation of the chemical reproduction process of the fire of language, which is the ascent and ladder of the genetic body of nature itself as a whole. This process of the burning, is again manifest in and as the life and death of stars; furthermore, is manifest at a local, solar-system level, in the most literal sense, in, as, and of the process of life itself - through which all power, essence, energy, sentience, and bio-neurological systems, mechanisms, movements, and processes derive their essential, fundamental energy of loco-logos-motion.

II.

Psychic hypertrophy; outwardly expanding spheres; growth of cognition, consciousness, and self incorporation:

Psychic states are projected outwardly onto desired objects of possession; in doing so, the psyche mirrors the stage on/upon which it stalls.

This ‘stage’ is always already the unprocessed, unconfronted, undigested imaging, or representation, of the contents of the historical, sedimental outgrowth of the psyche.

This is to say, it is something historical and transhistorical - the ancient, primordial, archetypal contents of the animal, the unconscious, the deeply rooted biological and genetic contents which constitute the actual body, mind, and whole of the psyche and literal workings and physical language of the organism.

The human being is a literal outgrowth and manifestation of an unconscious, recombinative, sexual process constituting millions of years of trans-species development, organization, and reorganization of neural networks, genetic codes, chemical compounds, and bio-molecular structures: from chemical reactions, single celled organisms, to plants, fish, apes, and homo sapiens.

This experience is a lived outgrowth experience, meaning the human being, or the individual, actually lives and is living this ongoing process of biological time based perpetual transcendence of self as in prior forms of growth, shedding, and growth of organismic bodies vis-a-vis the sexual and asexual reproduction process of recombinative genetic coding.

This process forms the substratum of deep time which is the actual chemical, biological, genetic ladder of deep constituency of the lived experience of self down to the molecule, atom, hair, and brain that constitutes the whole of the psycho-somatic experience of the individual.

This process, as a rule, is always already ongoing, developing, combinating and recombinating; shifting face and form in genetic and epigenetic encounters which form the current, present, manifestation and incarnation of self, form, and psychic constellation of being - which in turn forms all actions, interactions; senses of self; bounds and borders of perception of being; potentialities; possibilities; futurities, presences, and stories, visions, images, and narrations of the past; therein, the story and vision of the unfolding of self - who, what, and where it comes from.

Aversion to the literal lived experience of and participation in this grand natura process of the ongoing building, shedding, and re-growth and establishment of ‘new psychic-consciousness musculature’ as in new bodies, neural pathways, conceptions of self; expanding outgrowths of personality and vision in the interrogation of existing borders, bounds, and cell membranes of self; the outer reaches and darkness of ‘the other’ is the process of active, lived encounter with the very nature, essence, constellation, and outline of the being. This process, in short, and truly, is the lived experience of life itself - the experience of growth.

This process of psychic hypertrophy operates exclusively in the realm of sex, death, and the unknown/unconscious. This is juxtaposed literally and immediately to the scatalogical realm of the deep material unconscious processes which cover and uncover the excremental, sedimental, form of the deep body, deep earth, deep ritual unconscious patterns uninterrogated. This is also the realm of pleasure, vice, and dopamine hypnotism - or the realm of the ‘lulling to sleep of pleasure’. That which wakes up and awakens the individual to the affairs of the unconscious rhythms of nature is the perception of disruption; strangeness, even discomfort. This is the stirrings of awareness in the midst of the drum of the unconscious, through which all physical and natural processes operate as in an unquestioning slumber.

All of life processes can be formed and reformed in this unconscious state - by utilizing the bio-psychological feedback loops of established neural networks which are and have ritualized patterns of behavior based firmly in the survival, perpetuation, and descendancy of the genetic form and coil of the physical body, the literal code and language of the living-being-form. That which awakens, almost contradictory and paradoxically, is the awareness to this unconscious phenomenon of life processes; subsequently, the ritual of the lack of awareness, or desire to escape into realms of survival based self pleasuring, soothing, and avoidance of the psychic realms and borders of ‘life and death’, ‘being and nonbeing’; the ‘limits of self and the darkness of the other which lies beyond the city walls’. This disruption is a primal, archetypal, literal and metaphysical fear of the unknown - that which lies beyond the reach of the already incorporated material sensorium with established bio-rhythms; feedback loops of established subjectivity; mechanisms and hierarchies for edjudifying pain, pleasure, and values of life in accordance with the reproductive survival and instinctive life processes which nurture the as of yet in utero form of consciousness.

In doing so, as a basic principle of projecting the darkness and unconsciousness from within itself outwardly, the subject’s boundaries are formed, firmed, and reaffirmed by way of the perpetual attempt to master, possess, own, and control the ‘projected unconscious elements outside of itself’ as a form of perverse, inverted self mastery. This is a method of projecting the historical darkness of unencountered literal bios-logos unconscious contents of the actual, real, historically delimited bio-neuro-chemically defined lived and living body of self into containers of perceived external circumstance; seeking achievement, mastery, and control over phantoms, spectres, and ‘others’.

This method is nothing more or less than the stalling of the hypertrophic growth of the psychic self; the absolute self escapism in the name of creating and constellating simulated methods, narrations, stories, circumstances, environments, socialities, and cultures by and through which the organism can project its psychological state and induce a false sense of self mastery and psychic hypertrophy by forcibly inducing mastery over the projected ‘other’ as a symbolic codice, an image, a stand-in for the ritual symbolic element of the self. This is as in, the ownership of a dog, or the possession of a man, woman, slave, or ‘shiny object’. As a rule, always and already, the creation and establishment of a ‘material domain’ outside the immediate lived experience of the organism - including as an in the projection and mirror image of ‘the physical body’ as in any and all symbolic status and imagistic experience of reflected, materialized ‘self’ (here, the idea of a painting; a projected image of the eye literalized in material form and measured circumstance suffices) is, strictly speaking, a method and way of attempting to corral and control by way of false mastery of externalized circumstances, truly unencountered and unmet inner psychological conditions, circumstances, and states.

Furthermore, as a rule, these states continue to atrophy, or catabolize - creating greater and greater senses of urgency, despair, terror, fear, compression, and condensation of self into smaller and less stable; more decayed foundations and faculties of experienced self circumstance.

As a rule, only by hypertrophy of the psyche; the moving through the inner layers of literal lived experience of self into the deep historical caverns of the history of being as in a, again, literal process of psycho-scientific unfolding of the being at the level of the evolution of the organism, can any true and real progress be made. This encounter occurs in and at the level of the embodied psyche; is necessarily imageless.

Therein, the myth of Perseus and Medusa is a valuable aid, as is the myth of Theseus and the minotaur. Perseus used a mirror, which here we can conceptualize as the mirror of archetypal imagery, poetry, and the inner art of seeing - just as Theseus used a thread to find his way through the darkness of the labyrinth to engage the primordial aspect of the minotaur, just as Medusa is as the ‘terrible’, or ‘petrifying’, or primordial aspect of nature itself.

The risk of the failure to truly engage this psychotrophic principle is the utter unlived experience of life and the total absence of being, projected into screens, external conceptual realities; total divorce from the lived experience of being. This risk is nothing more or less than ‘the living while dead’, or the utter lack of all life; the sacrifice of the true, lived experience of self for a self-satisfying illusion - one that truly and deeply fails to satisfy, but only delivers the shock of a muted pleasure, which becomes increasingly more muted in time as the terror and constriction of the encroaching atrophy and catabolism of the lived experiences approaches a perpetually decibel shattering, increasing climax.

This is the call, as is the call in the hero myths of old; the myth cycles, to descend in to the chthonic grounds of the psyche; to, as Perseus, use the mirror of archetypal imagery to begin to engage with the true lived depths of the psyche; begin the process of the unification of previously disavowed, disjected, severed aspects of the whole primordial self - disjected aspects which, within, carry the actual, literal, lived passionate, essential psychic energy and power of the ancient life which is the lived motive of the living being; the ancient, primordial, real present in the incarnated form in which the being takes and is, ultimately and ineffably, descended from beyond words and true, literalized conscious historical knowledge. This is to say, the being alone lives a true and deep consciously unfathomably intricate and profound existent incarnate moving history spanning millions and ultimately billions of years of universal lived progression; synthesis and antithesis of forms, molecules, elements, and formal habitats of body and self. This history is only accessible by way of the lived, direct experience; the direct engagement with life. It cannot be had or found in the externalized, conceptual world of objects and materials. This confluence is the direct crux and engagement with the cross of ‘spirit’ and ‘matter’, or the essence of life; the essential form and formation in which the self and psyche lives, constitutes, and reconstitutes itself as in the mind of nature itself; the shapeshifting, face-changing forms and masks in and through which nature takes manifestation to combine and recombine the genetic codes of elements and forms in order to create newer, deeper, more complex and compound forms of history - through the language of the sexual and asexual transmission of organisms and genetic codes; chemical compound neural languages through and across time.

Therein, the perpetual and perennial call of the psyche is to grow and expand the perceived situation and constituation of the true essence and nature of the self; a hypertrophy and literal ‘self overcoming’ by way of a deep inquiry and investigation into the unconscious motives and motives of the natural outgrowth and undergrowth of life; in true and genuine and authentic engagement with these fringes of sedimentary genetic form which is the lived experience and impulse of and toward life, a higher life and higher mind is achieved vis-a-vis the true understanding and enlightenment of the lived psyche to these chthonic, underground impulses. This becomes a lived experience; a life imbued with the possibility for true conscious choice - or a liberation of the will at a profound, transpersonal, universal level of historical awareness of the outgrowth and undergrowth from which psyche has emerged and is emerging.

Accordingly, this is a movement vis-a-vis the profound, lived experience of the understanding of the past - into an informed, at and in the ground of the evolution of the body, psyche, mind, and form - decision, choice, and horizon of the future.

III.

From the centres of neural consciousness, outward spirals the development
Of the sophisticated technology of mind, which cleanses and elevates; arrives itself via the complex of the body.
Anabolic, the sinews of the form are charged with an ever renewed fury. Cleansed, washed away of the wastes of days and moments prior;
Cells continually renewed in the disjecta and excrement which furnishes the ground:
Out from which being extends and grows, first as a cell, then as a flower, a plant, a fish;
Acquiring arms; legs; constellated networks of woven rope; quilted blood, flesh; synapses
Which weave the body into multiplicitous sensorial dimensions.

Life requires the everpresent renewal of death at a cellular level; death of the old synaptic patterns;
Renewal and remainder of the essential elements which furnish the musculature of movement; the mechanism of patterning and repatterning.
Thought, first, and brain sophistication; compartmentalization and unity of the aspects and elements of the brain into a multisensorial, multidimensional experience of life
Is the sophistication of precise, detailed, ribbed, rippling communique
Between mind, brain, and the sensing organs - positioned in and at the breach of the outwardly feeling form: lips, tongue, eyes, flesh; fingertips; genitalia
Into the membrance of incorporation; the inner organs of processing; digestion; interpretation.
As thought enters mind and becomes fleshly mechanics, so does the inverse process occur: that solid materium becomes energetic food;
Flourishes the stalks of the eyes, outwardly which spread the art of bread;
Ingest the seemingly calm worlds; bushes and brush of great inner fire.

Cells take materia into the fury of their forms; turn to nutrific dirt the ash of their stomachs; breath of their breasts;
Smoke of their thoughts; dyed color of their deepest interiority; the synaptic unity of the art which emerges in the compound host of being;
The energetic compound and pressurized contents of the vessel;
The whole of its histories; imagined pasts; presents; imagined futurities.
The product of this process is mind; pure mind - the dictator; the breach; the ferryman of the vessel, between two rivers
Flows the pure spirit of electricity and electrical impulses; the magnetism of passions;
The hard food which passes through the digestive fire.

Each cell is furnished with memory; with the river of procedural fire moves through time
With a memory of the digestive canals which process and transport the hall of the gaping mouths of time.
Image through image populates the perpetual energetic painting, which shifts in tone and mood;
Furrows the brow that does not seek or know the nature of the furrowing;
Leers the eye that does not seek or know the nature of the leering. Guided by minds in which the simplest protein
Switches synaptic engines and evokes sense memories of a secret food. Inner processes triggered by minute exposure;
Symbolic reveries of color; twisted mouths; dream visions. We are in a hall of turning mirrors,
Wherein the mind’s language can spiral into open synaptic deep space
Where unborn galaxies of imagination prowl, small as a prawn;
Guttural and strange as a purple tiger,
Suckling on the lily of the mud.

The fire must run and pulse, wet and yet with information, not coagulated; yet pulsing
Like a clear channel of electricity, without scalloped inner flesh; without the mossy clinging of skeletal mushrooms,
Nor rocks of mud. Cells must clear the dead blood of tasted flesh with the perpetual easy flow of fluid,
And yet, not thin and tinny, not overly yin. Each life and mind is furnished by the balance of the robust information which flows in blood and electric neurology,
And yet is not dampened by a weak, easy speaking of shallow energy, a watery, nor opaque, emptiness, nor fullness.
We stand between two worlds, of pure air that is lighter than air; contains less information;
A void -
And a world that is full to the bursting with the digestive contents of all worlds; sheer information; the madness of letters.
Between language and silence resides the pump and fluid body, the mechanism of shade, shadow, light, and bread:
The form that rises and falls in the eye which is furnished awareness;
The illusion that is touched; caressed; felt; gravitated. Obtaining form in the mass of movement of particles
Which group and gather and constitute the ancient genetic memory of food
Converted into channels of light, information, and warm blood.
Together we are a ceaseless compound which churns out the endless art of imagination, smoke upon the canvas of a cellular generator,
Projector of light amidst the energetic attractor of charges.

Food brings us together and conjoins us, just from the smoke of their rising to meat, the pits of their firmament
Populates the ceiling of our dreams, thoughts, and focus. Eyes concentrate from ceaseless feasts; drawn to blood and plump green steam,
Charged with the blood of light; the nourishment of uninterrupted water; fertile, diced ground.
Air and water seep like channels into receptive, loose soil,
But not so loose as to fall into landslides of mud and ungroundedness. We stand at the wavering of a furnace which gains and loses light, heat, and smoke;
Keeps time in a rhythm, like a clock that heats the sun; a movement which obtains form
And but for billions of years of constancy alights; even distance alludes us
As cores dereact before light understands us. We perceive death like an encroachment, even without the sensorial capacities to understand the minuteness; the maximal nature of death;
How at each millennial; millisecond’s turn, allows us, becoming into being;
To crash into the fold of existence like a forge in a dark heath; like a sleek panther in a wandering moor-plains;
Like a jury accidental, a foment’s witness to a deep procedural which we call god; godliness.
If this is such, then electrical magnetism draws us to the maximal core, which is the meetingplace and unity of light and death; of life and total darkness.

For in the meeting of a synaptic reach, there is a fuse like a bomb; a shattering like an apocalyptic nebulaic bound. We are witness to a moment of illumination at the synaptic level
No different from the alighting of the core of a sun in the darkness of space. Planets gather and witness the birth of life from the womb of death; enchanted by the draw of core gravity;
Charged by electrical might; fusion; reactorial illumination. Such genius of dreaming; romantic illumination of imagining is heavy with light; yet the images upon the still of the wall of the caves of evaporate darkness
Are sheer and drawing projectorial. We depict from us all of the illusory content from this exchange in the symbolic letters which we dress all of world and life in; it is our clothes; our garments of the essence;
Our garnets of the beautiful. Dies of light are inner cores of suns which tumble in the direct apprehension of inner fires which sate us at the deepest levels and cores of our bodies;
Where forms meet the spiritual electric void, we call this our souls.
From the soil, we reach and rise, from the mute apprehension of death, where we grew like stones in the fireplace of time; from stones cracked the jewels and gems of waterlilies; green foils of grasses; from the grasses
Fell bones of crackling insects, we fleshed many eyes; organs given and taken to the still of time;
Exchanged hands, arms, death, teeth, wings, oils:
And in this, in many ways, witnessed the pure nipple of the flesh from which we teethed the warm nutrific milk
Which gave us life; to this life alone we clung
As pure material things.

And yet, all meaning lies beyond us; in the springboard of the imagination. Within us, we prove a delicate alchemy, a dressing of desserts:
The flesh a concoction and profectory of the diamond of the mind; an accurate flow of giving and taking; a relinquishing and receiving; a life and death amidst the flame which receives the foil of form.
Each day and hour we feed the unyielding burning that is life that produces the neurochemical results of the creeping electrical vines of the form which pulse our gravity,
Between minds and bodies, we are a receiving channel for impulses of information,
That too craft our vision of the borders between self and other; world and beyond; that is the ceiling of our reach.
We who reach into death and extract the vision of truth live at the smallest level - of the mote, apperception of the infinite, born in the dewy vine of galactic neural links of light; drifts of distant suns
Into the complex, compound isles of the present mind; the jungle habitat, which close to the carpet of being is wild, alien, and deeply strange.
Chemist’s mechanics charge us forward into the deep undergrowth of the unknown; where we sweat is closest to and closer still to flies;
Lingering and screaming with movement; with thousands of eyes. We buzz and seep and forget
Into millions of carpets where we leave our entrails; our markings; our skins and scents. In each day we leave our faces like genetic remnants;
Obtain new forms, of something wild and strange. In truth, there is no describing us, incomplete and temporary as we are. Writing ourselves even into the unwriting,
Replacing and removing; sheering thumbs, organs, tails, cliffs of form
Which once tied us to old worlds; paradigms of sedimentary living. Within us explodes the chemical fire which inscribes the ladder of light into the halls of our caves;
Through which we proceed, into halls and halls of wombs evermore
Until the human form is shorn.
We did not know animals when we were animal; to be born human is to fly into forgetting; the novel space between two worlds: one emergent;
One long since past. We are deep relics in all but mind;
Mind is the first that which grows; provides the immanence; the lye of our changing.
We must tip into mind like the last place that is not admonished by the corrosion; the rotting decay of time,
The mold that takes the container and makes it soft and wet; that returns it to the chirping carpet of insecticide.
Between the lightning and the forge, we are fire and smoke, between the smoldering, digestive pit of the deepest blood that heats the flue of the body;
The highest channel which receives the smoke of the vision of life,
We are a tempering quest - a seamstress of the vision, a sorcery of the magic between the true natural language of the genetic code of the word;
The perilous creation of the symbolic energy of void and projection of light.
Here, we reach even into the ancient depths of history; in a time before any true form; the mingling of light and shadow,
Something premolecular; indivisible and undivided;
Pure soundwave energy; yet as the foundation and basin for all that is; all that is altered.

Mind reaches into the source of life; the form that is truly formless; from which all is changed.
We stand before the massive power and find it to be massless; yet all encompassing. And from this die of changing mind is receptive,
To the leap that is fundamentally from the still of the pure material form of dirt and soil; tree and flesh
To the source of the primordial past, which is both the origin
And the endless source of life’s futurity; the pure electric word which links the word and ladder of nature to the symbolic word of mind.
And it is in the image of speech that the mind produces changing; in truth alters the code of the imaginated body. For we are origins from deep, unconscious thought;
Billions of years of movement in the ecosystem of the jungle of nature which moves from prowling to prowling, body to body, blood to blood,
In a ceaseless shedding and unletting of forms. We are unleashed as trial, as experimentation
In a climbing, in a changing ecosystem which responds at each moment to the inner changing and exchange
Of even the most profoundly mote, unceasing, searching, creeping synapse and single cell. We break apart into the million dew drops that compose the ocean of soul;
Recombine in the seemingly fluid process of evolution which builds up deeply complex craters of vision, which extend outward reaching like the eyes
Which seek to apprehend existence.
If we are to obtain and retain we must relinquish ideation; find the thread which unites the true word of nature with the word of smoke; the symbolic word of language. All beings paint it all around us;
From the molehills of ants, to the mountains which strike our vision and gaze. We are populated by a realm which is a deep, allusive symbology of language:
A language which is the word of the universal, eternal soul of creation.
We must apprehend the fundamental, same as it is applied in the fiery core of the sun;
In the angry fermentation of our hearts.
We work the same physis, in the chemical smithy of our forms - the physis of life’s animation,
Powered entirely by the reaction of physical, cellular compounds which heat the blood; move the form; transmit and transact energy through currents of fire
Which ripple through the cell’s core. It is not us that animate, but rather that we are animated by deep chains of information’s exchange.
Through us moves the compound of life;
Through us moves the heat of vision which forms our deepest dreams; deepest passions
Which to us are the powers by which we survive.

In this we are a direct link; a pure experience to the fundament of the stars; the essence of space; the birth of all life.
Through us is the canal of birth which descends through time in such a manner and way that we receive perpetual aspects
Between the past, present, and futurities of our existence - dreams which mingle elements of our descending dance; our ascending rise
Through aeons of specieal recombination. In our anger is something apelike; in our wandering is something cell-like; in our meditation
Is something plantlike of dew;
In our explosion into life, is something elemental and fiery; a first propulsion - the smoke that leaves our mouths and feeds the firm trees
Which give food to flesh.
The time that ticks is the age that whirls; spins in ever widening gyres about the die of the breathing fire;
This is an archetype dragonic - a symbol which beckons to the true thermodynamic nature of the chemical reactory of essential being.
Each of us burns until we have enough; surrendered smoke
To the hazy dawn of life; the jungle of our death is populated by spirits of inhalation and exhalation; the ceiling of our green habitat;
The entirety of our winding life which fans the flames of the digestive core
Is entirely the recompensitory breath of the green blood of our ancestry; the rising red blood of our animalistic mask and face;
Our popping emergence of snake-pupil theatric feeling from at first the black veil of space;
The feeding and seeding of the poppy soil of the ground of the core of the earth. Within us stews and boils,
Same as the planetary core, a laval, larval force which takes and relents form
As ascension of the mind demands. What we protect is life; what we seek
Is the creative imagination of the child. From vats, sinewing, smoking hands raise and quilt the masses of flesh with veins of form;
Eyes which collide with the veil between spiritual worlds:
Between life;
Between death.

IV.

We must see as we are impeccably young; before the birth of the stars;
Impeccably old, designated from the first cause. That we are lightning emergent from a vast territorial blackness,
Which even now shirks the cloak of the familiar; bursts the firmament of language; knowledge, being;
Ever in search of new containers. Bringer of enlightenment, electrical node of fire
Which sweeps through the tail of the cat; enriches the dew of the vatty firmament of the brain. Even now, we are ceilings escaping thermodynamic reach -
Incarnations of light. Our time is windswept; we are terrain where purgatorial ash is the veins of our bodies being constantly renewed in the black soil of space;
Our laval, larval reincarnation transmitted and poured between the soup and basin of the stars.
We are travelers between cloaks,
Slipping our bodies between new folds of space and time like wrinkles of the aging flesh.
Narrowly we are poured into containers which writhe with the power of electric light; are animated by the stew of the matrix of blood, the dye of many colors; the entangled neural cords
Which power our lives like flickering, blinking lights of a spatial tree, which string themselves up upon ancient, galactical cords
Which are birth canals of powerful ideation. The idea is a flickering synapse of life; a power station
Among a massive set of matrices; circuits on a switchboard of life;
A powerful, encompassed, self devouring cosmos of pure energy. Each station of fire is a chemical heat of mind; a whirling passage
Where consumption and reproduction are sheer methodologies of light transmission. These are legacies -
Heritages of being-body speech.

What we are now - behold in the present
Is the presence of a whirlwind thunderbolt. We are sheer, like a garment of high winds, tempestuous;
A current at risk of breaking the body; a fire of passion at risk of overwhelming the form. We spill over, molting, molten
Into the vats and currents of nature which sip our breath; seep our bones; drink at our marrow
Even as we drink at the flesh and matrix of the bloody water of their individual souls. Subtle strings and threads pour the breath of life,
Oxygenation, carbonation; the dew of hidden chemicals and light
Into the breathing electrical current of the body. Our electromagnetism is the concentric circles of gravity within gravity;
Bodies within bodies; organs within organs of the massive seed of transference
Which tumbles like a leaf toward the grounds of black holes’ abyss.
Like the first light of explosive, fiery hydrogen, we are the spring of childrens’ birth;
Rushing into the heat of adolescence; tipping into the plump harvest; fruiting breed of adulthood.
Our fleshy gourds crumble into the bright reed of the ground; which plays the colding song
Of winter’s slumbering death. We crawl toward the inner heat of stars and burst from the fiery cores of our hearts;
Spires which whip the waters of our souls into a hot molecular fury, being as we are a vortex of stars,
Each tumbling distances in a drilling pursuit, carving the hardened dark abeyance of space;
Boring, pouring into blackness,
Ourselves a steaming light.

We are a techne to whip the madness, evermore into a fury’s froth. The warm, hot water of the hearth of life splashes upon us;
Incites the transmission of the vital information, incurred in spit, semen, and bone. All of the life within us is a brew
That is in turns harshed and enlightened by waves of gushing light, from the frothing cliffs of oceanic space
Beating up against the waves and cliffs of the body; jutting up against the existent parameters; books of form. This transience,
Of the collapse and spillage of numeric wax; contents of compounds upon the larger, barren, seeping floor,
Like a sponge, information is dew upon the leaf of the immortal soil’s grounds. We are always obtained by what appears to be stone,
But breathes oxygen, in secret, inner, carvernous holes. We are always transparent and resorbed; we are always a permeable membrane,
A fertile remembrance, which endlessly accumulates the eyes of the transfixed dreamer. We take from life and recombinate
Into walls of artful, hidden mind. Life to us is that which we grasp
Amongst the constellated synapses, alighting the ground of vision which keeps us;
Inwardly and outwardly, we venture into dark grounds of silence; the passage between life and death, knowing and unknowing;
The vulture of the unknown.

Each must feed and spill the blood; in even more frenetic numbers spins the draught which pours furiously into the caves, grottoes, fields, and harvests
Which we sop with the bread of our forms; the body of our bones. We drink the art of life from which we built towers of hands, feet, face, and eyes;
Eternal cannibal of the golden waters of life. We must eat and drink the recycled blood and water; the hearty beef; the canvas of four dimensions which we straddle;
Beneath all native forms, we are closer to the immortal sacrifice of the elixir of silence. True and immediate to life is the body and the blood that sops the dew of nature;
The passage of the life of single celled waters into the green shoots of spriggy flue; into the heaving musculature; sinew of lumbering beasts
Whose musculature expands into heights and widths; depths and breadths. We are a venture into the millennial constellations of light;
Which explode from all corners; alight hidden dimensions of the mind. Where we travel is beyond the drop of water; the convex eye;
The concave pattern of the prismic artful wall of mind. We are dropped into a synaptic dimension which alights at the fall of a star in unconquered territories;
The song of a wave hidden to ears and eyes. We dance atop nothing with bodies made of motes of light; moonbeams which, if retrieved and returned to the heart of the core of stars
Are a black absence populated by a overcoming of repulsion. We dance and collide at speeds blinding;
Mate in the coils of deep electricity, where all around us are the sirens of ancient form. Our energy which corals about our body is the outcome of a blooming of violent absence of form. We are at root mated
In a territory hostile to form; fusions of the unity of being. About us is the dance of antiquity and opposition; about us is the relic of the memory of the heart of the sun;
The memory of the dance of desire in the unity of the driver’s core.
Spires spin the coils of our electric bodies, wrangled, wrinkled, and mingled with wires. We touch the friction which is the raw rubbing away of celestial movement;
Of particle gyration in heats closer and closer to the temperatures of the immortal fire which shores us of all form; of depths of cold and coagulate darkness which distantly hears the thump of the heart of life;
Beacons and reflects, hungers and thirsts, the dark particulate lumped in matter and silent, quiet, cold
Is the consciousness of the muted electricity. Life seeks the mated fusion of suns like a passion; to alight the inner circuitry of potentiality of life;
To tumble into the place of hidden inner unity.

We must go to the place that already is; established at the hearts and true depths of the firmament through which all phantoms spin;
All dark cores attract; call like wolf spiders the death of the hearth of the sun in the prism of their last smouldering ashes. We must not burn and burn away,
But instead become ourselves the core of the essence of the inner mutilation; we ourselves who are stripped of all name, tithe, and form - but merely and totally are the hidden inner fires
Which at their core are a blinding, tutelary light of life, which is itself the life of universal stars; the heat which makes possible the creeping carpets of fire ants, earthworms; the celestial beings which tunnel deep into the blackened oceans of the shores of fire and remake, resculpt; represent the fertility of the seed in infinite, parallax new forms. We who are sprung and sprung again from the mote representation; the spray of the fertile oil
Which is the fluid of life; the elixir of blood, semen, flesh and ovum; the elixir of the langue of the ancient energy, itself of the book of life.
We who live through the sedimentary speech of absolute, direct creation.
We, who smoulder and spun, keepers of the inner flame and fire of all life. That among us, as the flames and cores leap; dance and die; shoot; leap like faiths into darkness and shade;
Flare into abyssal contact with wandering synapses; cilial hair of lingering planets and stars in their seasons of death and life,
That we are the inner core and contract and matrices of this fundamental, absolute unity;
Indivorcible from this essential fact of molecular collision and conversion; the very face of the shifting life which takes baboon, fly trap, face of fly, ant; single celled ocean at the verge of ocean’s coercion and dissolution into thousand drops of cellular eyes and mud; the stumbling of life before the compound divergence of collapse; the steam of nutrific detritus in various degrees of inner combustion; the rising of the smoke of the being toward the alley light and dawn of the stars and the gravity of the mud and excrement toward the sedimental dirt of the earth -
We travel inward and upward, downward and outward at the song of changing’s music - a river across dimensions unseen and multiferous;
Ourselves expanding into the mote space far beyond conceptions of unilateral movement; perilous astrophysical weaving of spiral planetary bodies; the flitting of sun and moon’s tide, tithe, and time;
Far beyond the coordinates and axes of the body upon imagined planes of a dreidel’s spinning and tumbling in a gravitational, liplocked dance. We are tightly wound systems but for a time in stations of artificial gravitation,
Pushed, pulled, prodded and pronged by forces which only act upon the body of the bursting fire but for short whiles,
Nexuses in the chaos engine of life; polarity points called by inner magnetic springs to flesh, food, longing, and sexual unity - all that while awaits our true combustion’s form,
The hidden inner essence of fire which is a communique across seemingly impossible lengths; widths; times; dimensions.
This combustion’s essence of life is truly stationless; it is all that which is transmitted
To and from hidden, inner, sacral cores.

Beyond all language, it is the speech which is time itself; endlessly renews and calls with all utilization of biological technology; speaks with the urgency of all languages and names;
Architects the oldest forests of life; propels flaming nuclear devices through vast and broad space and time. We are plummeting; firing; shooting toward nothing with passion’s essence;
Mutilary; shapeshifting, violently sharp daggers of life which drink the rainbow blood of endless gradations of light, form, and beasts to supple the siphon of our own instruments
Unto and toward a parallax unity which we cannot comprehend. The galaxies await, with space like expanded mind; their stations of synaptic light already well established. The specieal mind expands,
Growing upon the creeping vines and ferns of the stations of neural and blooded wiring. We grow to accommodate ourselves; just as mind and skull expand to fit the rising of complexity of thought, feeling;
Inner sacral unity manifest in the inner space’s depiction and presentation of the fundamental inner unity of life.
We ourselves awaken to the violent tremors, the trembling terror of form in endless, constant dissolution
To kiss the black night of infinite unity.
We ourselves, the fire of the night which touches the darkest dial of the outward explosion, the spiral tumbling,
To alight the character of the darkest, heaviest death; the palatial, spatial wind of emptiness.

V.

Regarding the Essence of the Universe

‘If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration’ - Nikola Tesla

‘Might not Nature finally fathom itself?’ - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The universe itself is a primal, primary, primordial resonator. The principle of resonance, fundamentally, is that which simultaneously, in and at a moment by moment basis, shapes, determines; is, the fabric of reality, existence, and being. It is the point of unity, or the crux - at which all movement in a cosmic sense becomes; all stillness at a point as in the essence of being is. Therein, this governing law shapes all interaction and behavior across all scales, planes, and localities - from the subatomic to the macrocosmic. 

Resonance and vibration (vibration being the manifest quality, or, ‘frequency’ of appearance and recurrence of a resonant body; not only the quality of the body itself in time and space as in the corporeality and density [or lack thereof as in the case of a field of information], but the quality of the sound emergent from and expressed as, in, and as in the body itself occupying and projecting itself in and into time and space) are themselves the dynamic and scalar qualities and attributes which in their essence define existence and existences as in the quality of their beingness; form all matter and energetic density and openness/closedness (as in the solidity of the membrane of the form in and around space; the field[s] which it occupies in space); in this way, they are the first principle; underlying fabric of all reality - as reality themselves at the level of the universal.

The quantum field, as it has been termed in the scientific discourse at large, is itself the primary resonator; is itself the universe as in the essential quality and character of being at all scales - reduced to the scale of their absolute totality, fundamental essence, nature, and absolute dissolution into a zero point, or zero hertz resonance state. This would be termed, simply, as silence, nonexistence, stillness, true space. Such a thing does not exist in the literal form and manifestation of the cosmos, as space is always already in discourse with the myriad dimensions, fields, disks, and planes of the interrelation, cross-pollenation, and interaction of different; disparate forms of matter; states of resonance - all of which enter into and implicate even ‘planes of perceived material emptiness/absence’. This essential cosmic permeability itself delimits true emptiness; zero point potentiality in terms of the literal resonant quality of time and space. Gravitational waves and ray vibrations; cosmic background radiation themselves form the literal substratum of populous space and time at all levels, before the absolute ground, supra-substratum, and foundation of all of existence is incurred in a practical, material sense. As such, paradoxically, and perhaps obviously even in a paradoxical sense, the true resonance state and essential quality of the universe does not exist, in that the perpetual state of the universe is population.

The zero hertz resonance state is the fundamental energetic force and existence and essence of reality itself. It is the quantum field of all probabilistic states and interactions of particles as in density of matter, quality of energy, and the relationship and relational dynamics between all things. It is where fields at all scales of regional incorporation at the totality of the universal whole; cordoned into solar system; planetary coordinates - are perennially located; shifting in accordance to resonant changes occurring; making; being made at all levels of cosmic, quantum phenomena as in concentric circles; spheres of ecosystems of resonators-in-relationship. Therein, probabilities and possibilities within this inherent resonator-recombinator are always being acted upon in a pseudo-causal metasystem of that which is always already only and at once the first cause of the resonant principle itself and the hyper-dynamic population of resonance vehicles across all scales and planes of the greater mechanism and hyper-dimensional field of resonance itself.

Resonance machines within the larger sphere of resonance itself - as in the field of the entirety; the whole of the shifting prism, or sphere of the interlocuting; interrelational gears-of-sound as in the vibrational whole of all discerned and discerning qualities of beings, forms, and signature densities - are tuned to specific vibrational frequencies. This is, strictly speaking, themselves, their essence and quality; in turn their being or beingness (second to their role and form as resonance machines within a resonance hyper-field) is their density; frequency of vibration (which is their ‘material composition’) in space time as in their energetic quality and sphere of influence - both locally as in the body or the immediate material or immaterial field in which said quality is occurring; vibrating, but furthermore as in the influence said field or object extends across the rippling, entire terrain of macrocosmic resonance relationality. As such, space-time is composed of densities of impact; their gravitational, relational, and magnetic dynamic between, with, and through other forms and fields of different and similar resonate quality. This is, quite simply, the movement and action of force and the complexity of resonant fields; spheres; regions of information with discoursing widths and breadths of cosmic and local influence by way of and through resonance bodies/forms/machines and their spheres of influence intersecting; relatingl interlocuting.

These ‘machines’ act as nodes within said network of resonant frequency interactions. They influence, at all scales of being, how vibrational energy is processed, distributed, and ‘moves’ throughout the whole of the universe. Each sphere of impact moves gradually from the materially perceptible to the pseudo-immaterial at the level of traceable causality to all but only the most subtle of observers. The constituents, contents, rules, and laws of local, global, and galactic systems are always already determined by the established, maintained; even broken rules of law which govern the constituents of other, even far neighborhood intergalactic resonance systems.

Organisms with bio-neuro-chemical systems have developed as a consequence of dynamic interaction over time of resonance machines at all scales; their composition and decomposition of information; their diverse and diffuse packets of energy as they combine, recombine; disseminate and disperse across fields and dimensions of space and time. This interaction is as minute and compact as the heating and cooling of water molecules; the wandering of single celled organisms within a packet of water molecules; the collision and combustion of stars in large fields of space with complex resonant processes occurring therein over massive timescales; traveling with light and by information over massive swathes of cosmo-graphic coordinates and terrain. These organisms, by way of their complex and long term evolutionary processes, are perpetually encoded by and encoding genetic, thermodynamic, and neurological processes - both shaping and being shaped by the vibrational patterns and shifting systems at and of the level of the universe. In short, they are direct replicas of the neuro-cosmic processes occurring around them at the level of resonant information transmission of, by and through cosmic networks of vibrational fields of heat, power, and expressed light.

The evolution of bio-neuro-chemical organisms with speech capacity; neuro-linguistic systems of consciousness (brain patterns evolving to linguistic comprehension and multi-step thinking), is deeply fitting with the resonance path totality of the fundamental principle of the universe; the unfolding of the energetic processes and exchanges of information through resonance machines therein; particularly with the organizing function and thermodynamic pulsation of stars. Through the combination of observation of the fundamental, underlying resonation of and at the level of the universal; methods of producing, altering, and moderating sound as a modulation of vibratory frequency and expressed information in the form of literal resonant tonality of space and spacing, organisms can consciously (as in with knowledge of the first principles of the universe) modulate internal and external (ultimately irreducible and artificial separations, borders, and bounds in the context of massive time) resonance patterns to achieve not only local, but fundamental impact and change in and to the foundational resonance structures, patterns, and systems which govern the concentric spheres of ‘established order[s]’ around, about, and within their biological and cosmological domains. This conscious modulation of sound affects, at the root, the organization of fields and the resonant patterns which construct, maintain, and uphold them by way of conscious interlocution of and with the primary first principles which construct, organize, order, and interrupt the universal, cosmological processes of all movement, space, time, and essential being itself.

In this way, the very structure of organisms and forms and bodies in space, as well as the fields of space in, through, and between them (which themselves are rather mingled signatures of the expression, output, offput, and rays and radiations of said cosmic and local actions around, about, within, and seemingly ‘beyond’ them), are composed of nodal constellations of variant and discoursing signatures at all levels and scales of cosmic space and cosmic time. These signatures can be and are disrupted, as in the fundamental principle of change and movement across all scales of being - both from within (as in the generation of pattern-breaking speech materials), and from without (as in the introduction of an asteroid or a ‘foreign element’ that disrupts the bounds of a local systems construct of engaged synodic rapture of resonances entangled in a movement pattern, or a constellated field of relationship (as in astrophysical star systems). These signatures are as subtle and immediate as a massive planetary body, a massive star or nebula; an ant, an atom, a speck of dust, or a mote of light from a distant galactic formation. In total, sum, and compound, these fields are absolutely, fundamentally, and totally irreducible from the cosmic whole of the resonance mechanism itself - regardless of distance or artificial attempt to impose borders and bounds of systems of locality. For cosmic influence is achieved in and at all scales and all forms; permeates all systems at all degrees of subtlety and nuance. In this very same way, resonance systems and constellations of gravity and regulatory physical laws are always already deeply unstable; at risk of disruption by way of another interlocuting, collapsing system or set of systems - most likely by the death of a star. In this sense, thermodynamic principles and solid set timelines and lifespans of closed and open system burnings in large part if not entirely set the delimitation on the terminal and terminability of resonance systems and holding patterns in space and time; in doing so, create a domino effect which touch, shake, and rattle the foundations of all resonance systems in their lockstep dances of structure and repetition of form and conjunction across all spheres and planes and scales of being.

Stars themselves are massive thermonuclear dynamic objects which generate significant resonance fields through their heat, radiation, and fusion combustion. Their inner, thermonuclear fusion processes and energy emissions act as a deep, fundamental, and primary influence on the surrounding space and other celestial bodies. This is due entirely to their massive thermodynamic status as pulsing engines of immense heat, light, and vibrational quality. At a microcosmic level, organisms with metabolic systems mimic this process, in terms of heat generation; pulsing power of influence by way of digestive fire.

The heat released by stars is a form of vibrational energy that simultaneously affects and stabilizes - as in its regular somnambulism of energy production and distribution to a regulated set and locality of a ‘star system’ of gravitational, geometric revolutions - the resonance patterns of the surrounding cosmic environment. The entirety of the cosmic system of resonance machines is in an order of operations; an entrancement and leadership of power of massive, astro-cosmic might of thermonuclear resonance objects. As such, these resonance patterns are built into every and all aspects of being at all dimensions and scales of reality and existence. These are the ‘natural’ shapes and forms found in flowers, hearts, fruits, trees, atoms, organic forms, cells, and so forth. Their fundamental mimicry is first and foremost the result of the power from which they are essentially; in this way are entirely derived of and from. It is their ‘source’. This kind of fusion production of stars; the ascent and descent of heat as in a primary resonance and vibrational quality of density is the change of inner and outer systems of the ‘birth’ and ‘death’ of the star which in turn impacts its influence on nearby objects and the resonance field systems established therein. This source of regulatory impulse and expulse of life, once extinguished or exhausted, sends the entire local system dependent on this regular emanation of immense; intense resonant power and energy, into a ‘heat death’ of chaos; dissolution; enrapture in and into and of another system and mechanism of entrenchment and entrancement - another sway of another force field of resonant quality of heat, power, and light.

Heating and cooling processes fundamentally affect the vibrational and resonance frequencies of materials; in turn, their weight, density, force, body, and mass. This is the entirety of their character; as such, how they move about and in space. Thermal expansion and contraction modifies not only the physical dimensions of the objects therein, but the physical dimensions and resonant properties of systems at all scales. 

Higher entropy corresponds to more chaotic vibrational states, affecting how resonance is expressed and perceived in systems. This is in direct relation to the volatility and (in)stability of time bound systems as they are expressed and experienced from any given relative position in the universe. High entropy, in this sense, is a primary indicating factor in fast, rapid change across cosmic ecosystems and scales. This volatility; dynamic instability is the degree of change experienced in any resonator system, field, or set of scales. Heat is a primary, fundamental change agent for organization in and at the universal scale; is in direct correlation with resonant, relational, vibratory signature. It is the sound, at the microcosmic level, expressed by compression and release of steam from a previously closed system.

The quantum field is the perennial locale (as in all places and at all times; the zero point of flux at which there is, at last, no resonator) where and where-from discrete information packets are established, maintained, and relate primarily and fundamentally on the basis of their vibrational quality. Said packets of information are entirely discretionary and nonexistent; dependent entirely on the units of heat transfer which sustain them; impel, expel, and empower them as independent units and vessels of entropic migration. Heat transfer and entropy, therein, are intrinsically and critically linked with resonance, as they are the primary determinants of the vibrational, resonant quality of any field, system, or body in space. The various degrees of heating and cooling of any resonant body and system directly corresponds with the teetering spectrum of law and order upon which a resonant body and system complies. A necessary equilibrium of organizational distribution of heat, light, and energy is established in the birth and fermentation of a young star; in the slow extinguishing of the age of the star in cosmic time, said systems at an astrophysical level descend into chaos; loss of resonant equilibrium at a systems level. These thermodynamic principles are the ‘secondary’ (as in, the ‘symptom’, or ‘manifestation’ of the primary principle of resonance) apparatuses through which the entirety of evolution and interactions of systems are influenced at an actionable, literal, material, and observable level across all scales.

Over time, the creation of complex neuro-bio-chemical organisms capable of - with increasing complexity and sophistication - observing and integrating the essential, base energetic and metabolic principles of Nature - has in turn created an inner capacity for pattern breaking resonation and resonant ability at the level of the organismic microbiome of Nature itself. This modulation by way of the utilization and recognition of these core metabolic principles of Nature (‘from chaos to order’; the underpinning and underlying energetic systems creation, balance, and dysbiosis as in the introduction of a ‘foreign change agent’ - all in resonation terms) allows for significant creative organic shift by way of conscientious application. In short, the foundations of ‘human consciousness’ by way of a neuro-bio-chemically evolutionarily increased capacity for speech and thought, obtains and has capacity to alter resonance states and interactions, hyper-locally, from ‘deeply within [the system]’ of established nodal points in a pseudo-resonance field (which is to say, beyond all conception of fields; at and unto the entirety of the primary resonator itself); pseudo-field breaking ‘interlocutions/interlocations’ of objects, fields, and phenomena. The conscious manipulation of sound influences, at the fabric, root, and foundation, the quantum-level principles, foundations, and structure[s] of the universe itself.

At a macrocosmic and deep time scale, the thermonuclear objects and heat expressions of stars play a fundamental role - not only in this process of organic creation of hyphenated beings capable of altering in and at a molecular sense the universal structure of the resonant organism of being itself - but in the establishment and creation of all resonant fields of stabilized and destabilized information packet relationships, regardless of their evolutionary, revolutionary, or time-bound status. Their heat production, radiation, and gravitational influence shapes the resonant properties of all surrounding space and relationships between celestial bodies across all stratum and substratum, dimensions, axes, and fields of space-time. The ascent of heat, in the entire life cycles of stars; the descent of heat - plays a fundamental and foundational role in the catch and release mechanism of entranced resonant systems and their ability to hold gravitational; synodic, enraptured, regular, regulated unity. This same principle holds true at the local scales of thermodynamic bio-neuro-chemical beings, forms, and organisms in their ‘rise and fall’ of heat life and heat death. Accordingly, fields of power, force, and form of gravitation, magnetism, and entrancement are the establishment of the physical forms, forces, and fields which create, propagate, and consume these local level system realities - such as ‘night and day’.

All elements and components and electromagnetic fields of the universe are fundamentally connected via vibrational patterns; the flux of resonant systems dynamics at all scales; in all concentric, expanding and contracting circles and expanses of created, maintained (by homeostasis of signature of heat, radiation, and resonance therein); destroyed by the thermodynamic catch and release of energetic heat which simultaneously regulates, creates, and destroys relational systems of resonant homeostasis of conceived; perceived ‘closed systems’. This is simultaneously the nature of time and the nature of all things - particles, energy, consciousness, and structures - all beholden to this essential energetic principle. Each level and scale of being simultaneously influences and is influenced by the ‘greater and lesser’ spheres, scales, and scopes of meta- and microscosmos in accordance to and from where expanding and contracting scale and scope is being perceived from relationally in the dynamic universe of resonant systems - a universe that is itself a grand resonant cosmology of matter and energy in different states of dynamic change - a change that is broached and unbroached; created and uncreated by resonant status; resonant statuses with profound nonlocality; yet, profound implications on, at, and in a ‘local’ level of relative dimension and perception.

When change occurs in the dynamic universe, it occurs via change in resonant status change. When change ‘does not’ occur in the dynamic universe, it is still occurring via change in resonant status, but at a level which is ‘apparently not being perceived’ (ie highly microcosmic and/or ‘non-local’) by said locality or relativity attempting to track, narrate, or locate that ‘change’ or ‘changedness’ or ‘changingness’. Thermodynamic statuses and structures are always already - by way of the nature of their time bound solution and dissolution into fields of energetic state change; the properties of the resonance bylaws which govern the universe itself in and at the level of resonation - in a state of apocalyptic change, which is the signal of their absolute overthrowing into an entirely ulterior paradigm of heat exchange, gravitation, energy, and resonant hierarchy of forms, through which force, energy, and information packets move; are digested and changed by the metabolic nature of time as in the thermodynamic birth, life, and death of massive stars; organizing aspects, elements, and heat-force-powers of local, global, and intergalactic resonant systems. Resonant status is, at last, the force which stands at the gates and acts as a gravitational bar and impasse at and in the course of time; that which, by way of the passage of time, acts as a revolutionary mechanism and release valve, for the last of the perceived laws which held in stasis the absolute change of quantifiable and qualifiable systems, held entranced by perceived resonance stability. It is this dynamic force which, in the words of Plato, is ‘the moving image of eternity’.  This is the same in regards to cellular permeability as it is to massive astrophysical structures; seemingly ‘closed’ systems of resonance function and energetic distribution, current-flow, and information.

The essence of the universe is not only the fundamental principle of flux, or state of dynamic change in the passage and transmutation of thermodynamic fire - to evoke Heraclitus, but also always already the permanent, perpetual status of the cosmos itself as a primary, primordial supra-resonance mechanism; therein populated by the status warbling mechanisms of resonance beings, bodies, fields, forms, and fluxes, in various states of dynamic systems change in accordance with their status and statuses as vibratory, frequency based resonance vessels of dynamic energetic transmission, transference, confluence, and fluxual exchange across perceived ‘open and closed systems’ of concentric degree, magnitude, and essential wholeness at cosmic scale.

VI.

All of our dreams have been a crawling about the mud;
Gasping as we devour the hot blood of the tulips
Stamped down into the crud of the soil. We were once wild;
Asserted our sexual dances with the mad fervor of the play. We were once plain actors, blatantly asserted in the heat of our searching consummation. Flashlights, lanterns, lighthouses in an ocean’s spray, rocking, lit by childish desires.

Now we are costumes of a last, ghastly projectory of light. We swoon against mirrors, and touch only metallic imitations of life.
Do you remember the beach, where we wandered; I touched your warm side, the left hip of your flesh in the dark? The waves rocked us delicately on the moonlit lake;
The wine drunkenness and wandering of youth.
Symbols are our prison. As is the language which constructs our lockstep worldly domain.

Do you remember? Our world before words. The madness of longing; the melting of the warmth into us. The sun lazed with us; learned and leaned into us,
Languid, like snakes upon rocks of the rivers of time.
There were plenty girls that I loved, driven insane by the ripping and the tearing of the flesh. Dinner for cannibals. We ate until the meat inflicted lashings of nothingness upon us.
The emptiness we feel is the emptiness of the stars, burning from a core of absence,
Casting spires of light and shadow upon us; we too who are naught but hungry shades.

When we were delused, the fantasies gave us great pleasure. You and I who were convinced that the mating of dreamers would make more than thermal outcomes; the tangled coil of another dawning birth. From coil to coil, cord to cord we fantasize, and dream of civilizations, cultures, meaning -
We paint the insides of our caves and cages and forget the tangled desperation
From which our worlds emerged.

Now we are images, words, and names. Now meaning stands between us and the hot angry lightning which twists us into ecstasy and bliss. Lightning which struck the earth and changed our song,
Lightning which ripples our flesh and like apparitions,
We poured into this world,
Droplets of water which convex the muscle bellies of our flesh.
In the burning we taste the dissent of darkness;
The sheer force of time which pounds against us;
Encircles us like carrion bodies of planets;
Birds of prey.

Now for romance. Or was it then? You, a child looking for a mother; me, a mother looking for a child. Monstrous repetition. Struggling withinside a writhing, tangling pit of arms, heads, chests. Do we emerge from the womb of man? To gaze up at the stars? All of this hunting, all of this hunger
For touch?

This world is a canal, a nasal, a lung, a throat, a vein, a branch of a tunnel between paradises of sensate majesty. All that sparkles, glimmers,
Is a light reflecting off a body and careening into the infinite. We are pierced like bodies of water; lifted like the reeds which we ingest
And make us and our minds strange. I felt the warmth of the left body of the mind and brain; the cold gesticulations of the right. I drew them together and like two lovers, conjoined in paradise.
Unify the body, which has been crucified. Half of us is the primordial mud of the animal; the other half is something of light from the blackness of space; a galactic vein and being.
All of the world is fundamentally alien to us;
All of the body is an ancient function;
A secret math and arithmetic.

So we master life, the tireless drum. And all that we missed and remembered is love, the attempt of unity
Between distant stars, reaching light through fingertips; the frictive magnetism; molecular space between nodal points. Nothing ends here, in the valley by the lake. We dance because we must; we shake and shimmer with the hidden inner fires.
What mind can truly contemplate this? Desire’s kiss?
Together, apart, together, and apart
In a ceaseless rhythm.
I still remember the lake; the boundless expanse. What it is to know nothing, and yet be delicate with the rippling fire,
Agonizing over each sentence of experience’s speech. We read the lines, like devotees,
A natural, religious Nature of the flesh. A canyon of the opening of experience,
The mouth we traveled to adulthood.
Why are we now dull, blunt, and brutish,
Subject to the rigamarole of same? Thrashed by the seldom seen whip of Time,
Which we wear, wearily upon the face of days?
Where we are thrashed and crumble like sacred towers and cathedrals, churches and coliseums,
Weary monuments of stone.

Touch, stimulated ecstasy. Now fire brushes us and we shrug.
Now love is but a smug rift in the dirt, which we brush aside by the carriages of commerce. We have run over life, and made our skin harsh and hard. Words shivered with love; symbolic irrelevance.
All of our life was an inroad to the direct glory;
The chalice of the golden waters of life. We sipped directly from the cosmic stone. Embroiled til the burning that made us ash;
Covered our faces with soot and dirt. The ground cannot touch, only hope to birth again from the seed of the dissembled body.
To sprout flowers and trees from dark limbs, planted against the boughs of the great tree of time;
Jungles through which something wild might once more emerge,
Growling with a terrible desire’s delight.

Here, we cannot live, far from the lake
Where our lips pressed and meaning was nativity. Buried in the ruins of language. The body must be fresh and new, red and potent,
Swimming with the purple blood of life; yet fluid with the blue waters; channels of the liquid veins, rippling with flight’s electricity.
We, flying birds, pressed to the mouth of beauty
Now squandered, wandering the ground, clipped of the black angels’ wings. Ravens, once more nipping at the slip of the earth,
Whose dress is the black goddess
Who must whirl around and nibble at the black insides of the demon who swallows the sun.
Night! Once more to day and love,
The warm stimulus of the chemical reach, between the thermal bodies of lovers. Touch to touch,
Transmitted the warm tannins
Of our eternal drunkenness.
Spittle upon Gravitational time’s
Spiraling, wild delighting’s
Hot chest

We who sit at orgasm’s pulpit and decry meaning.
Naughty drunkenness tears us from the bowels of the earth;
Plays us like guitars among the lawless gravities. Brief angels by our bedsides;
We are lifted up by fishhooks of light to our sternums and chests;
Wander before being pummeled back into the opaque darkness of the flesh.
Wandering night! We cry out, stumbling. Lashed by a chemical barbiturate;
Wavering, jutting, like a sound wavelength’s cliff. Brief, shuttering light,
Shunted and shivered by shadow. For we must sit and rest in death; dreams like old men which throw us into the mean dawn;
Hide behind daylight’s curtains.
This world is like a dirt in the hands of one whose eyes see visions in the narrows of the flame;
A smearing red clay upon the lips and walls of a taunting mind,
Whose dreams become mirages, visages; faces in the muralistic bombast of time’s domain.
We who haunt the dawn and shiver for some great priest to come and alight the day, with figures, angles, and angels of a new word.
All the while, our teeth wear at the regulation’s food. We who sleep in white, cotted beds, like prisoners or patients, madmen who are painting
Anything but the populous passage of the flame.
Youth are smeared with the chaos of the burning; age, like a dying star
Stumbles with the black ashes cane. All around us, death springs from life, like light through the leaves of an ancient tree. Shadows tumble into relative flesh’s age; galaxies await millennial turnings;
Children await small birthdays, narrow circlings of the sun.
We are timed by the passage of heat which burns the wood of the forest of our bodies to dust; time is as we truly are,
The unbound passage of this heat of life.

We sit and recall, with burned faces, the dragon which breathed through us,
Leave us heaving the hot bread of passionate lust. Devoured and devouring, carnivorous of the blood of the fire which birthed all stars, all galaxies; all eyes which creep in the domain of darkness
For a taste of the bread of life til they are smothered and transferred. Each of us convinced of the privacy of life;
Each of us among the same hidden fervor. Undivorced;
Desperately careening for a foothold in the possessive hunger
Which is an immortal rite of the passage of hands.
Unseparated, fiery engine’s intestine - to flue which populates all arrival and departure.
And yet, to the lake we must go, to seek consummation.
To the lake we must go, to pray at the immortal entanglement of lovings;
Bonfire concubine in a sea of nothingness,
Drawn to the black mouth’s frictive, immortal close;
Straddling the breach between eternal formlessness
And the bread consumed of fruitful death

VII.

Irrelevance

The prime drivers of mankind are an essential thermodynamic somnambulism which serves to uplift the resonant character of the human body, brain, mind, and animate ‘spirit’, or life essence, which is, again, the driving engine of the being body, into continued being - or the seeking of perpetual homeostasis in an entropic environment.

The container of the body undergoes a consistent ‘leaking’, or by the consumption, ingestion, digestion, and excretion of mineral material, condensed pressurized contents of the generative heat and organic contents of the vehicle; the organs, systems, and processes which sustain it. Like stars, these being-bodies are, and have, essential thermodynamic ‘timers’ of sustained burning. Beyond this, these vehicles and particles of intragalactic; cosmic; universal space-matter are, fundamentally, nothing.

This perpetual burning and the vehicles of burning across scales can be traced directly back to the origins and birthplace of this universe, the Big Bang. Everything that has emerged of, from, and within the context of this explosive hydrogen bomb - is innately, and fundamentally; including the fusion of the stars which empowers and powers their star system subdomains of gravitational thrust and organic life - the chemical substance and sustenance of this burning.

Therein are all of the games of mankind which mankind perceives to elevate itself from the ‘beasts’ and ‘flora and fauna’ of Nature; achieve a simulated divorce from the cosmic unfolding of nature itself. Cultures, civilizations, narratives, applications - all of these phenomena of essential separation or abstraction from the fundamental, direct lived experience of thermodynamic life; the actual lived experience at the sensorial level of the fire - are mass delusions at scale to compensate for the inner felt and beheld terror at the phenomenon which rests at, for the most part, an incomprehensible scale and scope for all but the few who can and do pierce the veil of projection games of light and shadow upon the wall of sight into the depth of the interconnected, fundamental, unifying phenomenon of being and existence across all scales of being.

In this way, all who ‘achieve’ any level of pseudo-sentience as in narrative driven consciousness beyond immediate consummation of hunger, thirst, and the lived and living drivers of the enginic fires of metabolic life are fundamentally, absolutely, and essentially schizophrenic and insane as in a divorce and divorcing of and from essential life into the realm of the symbolic, abstract, and conceptual. These narratives are always already narrative fractures, as in fields of conceptual being wherein narrative as ideology fundamentally and absolutely prevails. Beneath all of these symbolic codices and religious dressings of nature and life and the organism into clothes of religious, cultural, and civilizational hypocrisy, however, continually and perpetually resides the root cause and unfolding and source-essence of being itself - the thermodynamic flame and primordial bio-chemical emergence of all life from the hydrogen explosive quality - a quality which is never divorced from any and all unfolding ‘occurring afterwards’ - which is, in reality, occurring in perpetual unfolding of, said originary phenomenon itself.

These narrative games of mankind are essentially and fundamentally cynical - as in that they are language games; image games, and vision games - which obscure the essential malicious and violent nature of what is required to obtain and maintain life - the stoking of the furnace of life by way of direct engagement and inhabitance with the energetic, electrical, metabolic system of the body itself. Due to the sheer nature of the perversion of the abstraction, masses are entranced by these games of shadowplay, lightplay, imageplay, and languageplay - and become fundamentally divorced from the essence of life itself. They become resident in the world of shade and shadows, transfixed by the dancing game projected from the light of the fire upon the walls of their eyelids. They become watchers of the synthetic art of life, all the while that they are drained of it from the essential metabolic core of their body. This is the enslavement of humanity to the cult of images.

Therein, lies the terror; the failure and refusal and resistance to behold the utter and profound absence of life - as in the nature of the core of the fusion object; the nature of the core of the atom of absence in which there is nothing but powerful, profound, all consuming light and heat at the core of life, stars, the thermodynamic principle, the hunger of the stomach; the originary explosion at the central core and originary persistent moment of the universe. This abyssal absence is that which consumes, swallows, converts, from the devoid center of mass of the body, requires the perpetual swallowing of objects as nutrific: gravitational pulls which grasp, entrance, and devour entire solar systems, like wolf spider black holes.

This hunger is a game of fundamental predation, an unacknowledged, deeply feared predation which is the mass entrancement of death and consumption of the individual being body by the fire of the unfolding of the explosion of the core universe, of, from, and in which each individual being body is simultaneously predator and prey; simultaneously the one who converts the green blood of flesh to the red blood of red meat; simultaneously the one whose bones are picked by hyenas or by the beetles and worms in the grassy soil. The fear of the central absence at the heart of the metabolic driver is itself the perpetual cycling of desired objects; the institution and first cause of desire - a fear which is bound at root by the primacy of the blood, life, and energetic ritual all life must perpetually consume to sustain itself. Like the human egg devours the sperm, or the wolf devours the lamb, all beings, objects, and bodies are in a perpetual state of concentric circles of digestion by the fires of massive bodies of the universe; humming engines which must sustain themselves on the fires of greater and lesser bodies alike. Therein, all bodies upon earth are absorbed fundamentally and essentially by earth; this planetary body is not only gravitationally and atomically entranced, sustained, and powered by its feeding of the rays of its star, the sun - but that the star of the sun itself is careening towards a massive gravitational object which will eventually consume it; along with the planetary contents of its host, whole, entirely, eviscerating its sway and field upon digestion.

All beings live in the sway and fervor of this process occurrent at all scales, down to the metabolic processes of the cells in the body of the individual. The attraction of electrical charges in various stations of this primordial subsystem are the drivers of both sex and death as principles, principles of consumption of ‘the other’. By way of these two principles, which are essentially one, all ‘objects’ or ‘individual stations’ in the cosmos are perennially subsumed in and by one another - sex is just as a decaying organic piece of matter is subsumed into the grassy, mossy carpet of a forest floor, or the collision of stellar objects in the sky; deep space. What we fear then, fundamentally, is the loss of individuality in the convergence of seemingly distinct principles; the loss of the fabric of the sensory normalcy which constitutes the rapidly decaying, dereacting primacy of subject matter which is held together and tethered by the language of the organ, nerve, and blood systems which constitute it - a system of the language of the reproductory, seed principles which have passed its life down through time by way of genetic recombination of the language of ancestral, host organisms. In this way, all beings have been held and are beheld in a timeless process; through time are revealed by the measures of sexual death which itemize, vitalize, and revitalize new host forms for the metabolic fire which pervades existence.

This game is a game through which all things are being played; playing - and it is the degree of their recognition of these primary drivers as the total unconscious determinant of all of their pathways, decisions, choices, and centres of subjectivity - that they are doomed to repeat the same movements, patterns, and sleepwalking entropic lives. It is the degree to which the totality of the directly inhabited embodied life is lived - that the organism experiences direct contact and unity with the truth of the universe and cosmos; the truth of the intergalactic, metabolic life system. And this requires direct and immediate presence with the fire itself - the timeless essence of existence; the pervasive truth of life and living - as a neuro-bio-chemical organism acquiring increasing sensorial and sensitive faculties to reflect upon and observe life not only as it unfolds externally as a divorced phenomenon to be measured, but internally, as the organism itself, as an immanent phenomenon to be experienced.

VIII.

Returning to this place within myself of lush fertility; the present creativity of silence - finding the place within us that is immortally true and beyond all ideas and fabrics of human conceptions of time, space, and life

Inhabiting that place is where we are reborn in the palace of fire of who and what we truly are

It is the soul that persists in all things and is the endless source of renewal, youth, and reverberation

I conceptualized it in one of my last essays as the essential field of resonance; sound, and vibration through which all things are echoes and reverberations - the physical force of the Big Bang who, through, and what we are incarnate, fundamentally - beyond all ideologies, beliefs, and ideas

That we live in that place is that we have the direct experience of life without reflections, mirrors, or delusions

Its a form and place of freedom of the total direct experience and initiation into the fundamental fabric and essence of life who and as and what we truly are - something that is not mediated by anyone or anything; the experience of an unbroken freedom that extends in radius and measure far beyond the physical location of the body into the essential unfolding of the universe

IX.

We are the valley of the hidden fire, an obscured flame
Blind to the eyes, thermal to the touch,
Manifest and present in the turning of all things. And yet, that which we perceive is a slow unfolding; a molecular tide, a slow seeping of compound chemical graspings. We are the bonds which slowly catch and release over a symphony of millennial moments
Condensed into the sweeping movement of fingertips across the palm, hand, and arm over the birth of a star.

Slowly burning, almost seething, we revolve around the core and ore of our grasp. That which assembles us, even in doing so, dissembles us into brightening rays; returns us to the core of the diverse explosion;
Resumes us into palpable infinity. This is our ecstasy; the life of the ecstatic - whirling in a garment of the shaking, shimmering wind
Which is an outcry from the originary powers of the first sun.
Ring to ring, eyes are enchanted by glimmering objectifications;
Reminiscences of the core force which is their perpetual animation.

Suns eating suns; this is at last our outcry
Of collisions where fires pass into fires; mouthy at the breaking cores
Which create the wood of passing worlds but to burn them;
Which create the teething infancy of stars but to consume them;
Which dance out circuitous, spiraling rays;
Shoots of flares of light, dancing language
But to resume them in the silent warmth of speechless soil and ground.
Resolve us into palpable infinity. The senses unify with the standing electromagnetism of the air;
Are stationed in harmony with all points of gravitation’s schism.
We are notes resolved, within the greater admixture of a wordless symphony. The composer’s timely, building complexity
Is a tower which we climb to the magisterial revelation of the fire;
Its pregnant presence within all things.

For we were hidden, obscured and absconded to our senses;
Yet naturally drawn to the bread which sustains us;
The paradises which feed us; the warmths which nurture us,
Naught to scalding heat nor cold.
This equilibrium is our passage, of the senses in the perfect brine
Which passes us from resumable infinity to resumable infinity.
This life is a brush which draws us upon the canvas of life;
Once we are done, lifts us into the immortal spheres. Footprints trail and kick against the canvas of the dirt;
Eyes draw spires, caves, and caverns against the twirling dial of the light and shadow of the sun.
Trading faces, faiths, and hands - we meet and return the keys of ecstasy, the unity of face and body and form with the fire of the inner spiritual life;
The heated, heath of passion which inhabits and inhibits each face, body, and arm in the wavelength measure
Of the rise and fall of chemical release.

Within us, we are a techne, acutely connected
To the absolute synthesis; the instrument, the flue and vase of time
Through which all life flows and becomes intimately connected.
The senses touch the color of wonder, the smooth passage of the nerve of ecstasy, the quiet calm of the cool air of passionate memory; the gilded palm of the leaves which fall upon the winter of true and peaceful slumber; the visitation of the goddess of dreams. We are calmed and soothed in the womb of the fire
Which is our interconnected, hinted electromagnetic unity
Which ripples through each breast of invisible time -
For without the hands of the flesh we could not touch upon each dimension and flexing plane of the skin;
The pumping cores of the womb of the guest which organs trade secret information,
The essential, synthetic core of the unity which flows through the vessel which takes ground
To the core of the hearth of the spiritual fire; the sun of life
Which is transmitted like dew to the flesh and blood.

We take in this nutriment of chemical, elemental compound
Via the air, the water, the meat and berry; the vegetable
The ecosystems of indistinguishable nourishment which vitalize and open the instrument of our sensory organ; organization
In a perfect symphony. All elements are immortally entangled with the dawn and coming passage of the beings which emerge from the breast of Nature;
The fire of hydrogen’s perpetual reorganization; the stations of primordial flesh and carbonation.
Fizzing, alight with the air that transmits between and alights all receptors,
We receive the fire of ancient suns
With the synapses which alight our tongues. This speech of breath is the heritage which codes deep in the strands of the language of our flesh;
The language that we are; that we speak, becomes;
Is becoming us.

X.

We are a hypertrophy of the soul;
A fire of the overcoming that flies through all time - the instrument of that which makes
Both barren wastes and the self immolating fires of the hot blood of passion.
All of the currency of time passes through the hot wire of makeshift electricity
Which currents craters in planetary grounds and leaves memorial dust,
But naught remains to remember -
The fire is already amalgamated in the thermonuclear body;
The body which is itself a bursting radiation;
A body of light; an apparition of pure power.
This will flows throughout the cosmos like a plasmic brain.
It is the fluid through which all thoughts are lighter than air;
Yet the language of interrelated complexes of memories and dreams
Which the artist weaves out of the matrix of potentiality -
Which is even less than space, even less than emptiness and absence
In that it is the vibrating current of pure energy and force.
Bodies are resonator wombs which hold and buzz and are aflame with the vibrating current of energy;
Are attuned like engines to the word of fire.
It’s language speaks through us; animate, flush organs -
Held together and remixed by the incantation of molecular syllables;
The chemicals which grip, entwine, entrance, and release them to lesser bonds of pure smoke.
Breath, like aether and matter’s pole -
Mingles with the dark roots of pure being.

Nearly, we are chided by what lives beneath us.
Inner eyes are mediators of the energy which must ceaseless flow; lay waste to bodies like hours; milliseconds;
Must whip past the eye beyond apparitions of light.
We are in sight a time past;
In the incarnation of truth an immolation burning beyond all preconception of the senses
This pyre, we are beyond light and sound, current and vibration;
Beyond the curtain and veil of this world in the furious essence which absconds with all life, burrowed into the totem past all symbology.
This body mediates the light of being across all axes and dimensions;
Amalgamates the presentation of the complex of reality in sight, sound, taste, touch -
And constructs a fullness of spectral presentation;
Shadows around its empty, burning core.

That swirls around us and that we digest
Is the meat and blood of emptiness
In various stages of burning and decay;
Absconding with the thermal energy -
Life’s properties of lush, flush expansion.
Muscles ripple and fill with blood and water.
Waters rise with the volume of fertile salmon.
Dew mingles with breathy dirt and defies contraction.
Thousands of names are born for new stars,
Red blood and soft cheeks engraved in temporary stone
Through which the universal life bakes the expressed shout

There are no idols of the soul
Only the neurological fire that connects all life;
The primordial thought of man, being, grass;
Encapsulated in the deepened scales of ranging starlight.
We are folds in the groove of the ancient brain, which speaks, thinks, seethes;
Mulls over the word and world of genetic recombinations
Like a sifting, shifting ladder within the greater body of the cosmos.
We are turned, like a lock and key, perennially uncertain of the final form of the body.
Apparitions like mirrors, only reflect the turning essence and age of consciousness;
The increase in startledness; the inching toward fire’s recognition
Through the drug addled consumption of semblant forms.
Coffers of the body expel chemical perfumes of sensate pleasures.
We are drawn to the opium den of the life which quenches and draws us further toward the curtains of the hungry beast
Beneath whom is only the abyss;
Flash of stars;
The neural, neutral core of their wombs
Which they nurture pure light and heat;
Sit in meditation’s levitation.
Brain, upon the fluid of mind.
We sit and wait, thought ripples through the interdimensional synapses of the mind
Between ancient instincts; the gallery of taste and touch,
Images which flicker in the currents of memory, tongues, eyelids; breasts of sensation
Recombined and admixed with the sacral wish fulfillment of dreams.
We tumble toward the desired object of breathy unity with the whole of life
Mingled in the night where the body loses touch;
Glows electric with hidden sacred limbs of life and light;
Our blue roots of being,
Which like trees extend in all directions toward the stars;
Grasp and grip the eyeballs with a firm easiness;
Feed them from the electrical fluid of the nourished form.
This earth is a leaven loaf of meat and blood;
Of body and form,
Of which we feed the recombinate mixed forms of life;
Filter perfect flow of blood and neurology
And receive visions of our inner unity with the matrices of existence,
These far hidden corners of the universe and stars which long for us;
Our nuclear, atomic, sacral essence;
The true nature and form of our heat
Which makes us complex chemical animals,
Compelled even amidst uncertainty;
Our primordial nativity which burns even as the stars
Through chemical brush

This total essence is a life endlessly born again and anew
In complex forms of difference; in ease of repetition a startling sublimity
The emergence and reemergence of the dawning core of all life and light
Incarnate again and once more in parallax forms
Constructing the whole of the prismic vision of matter and life;
The eyes of being, sensate even in the coolest stone,
Flickering with memory; slumbering in matter;
Rising in the interdimensional ascent of the mind into new forms of even more total and comprehensive recognition;
We gain scales, fingertips, and cerebellum
Like we gain dimensions of insight;
Planes of intraperception
Into the hidden inner wombs and undergrowths of the truth of matter;
The essence of the fire of suns which fuels us,
Rebellious; continually climbing the scaffolding of the inner life and light
To new forms of apperception of the fundament;
To new unions and unity
With the whole of the perennial cosmic fire.

To breathe this blood, we are transcendent of the last form;
Formless and in full unity with the whole of the breath of the stars;
The essential fuel of the dawn of sight and perception;
The whole of the essence of the transfixion of matter;
The bursting of the primordial, cosmic leopard from the slumber and sleep of matter;
Gained and grasped in our intercoursing unity with tongues and hands;
Eyes and amygdala;
New forms integrated; technologies and vessels of the complex instrumentation
Through which fire passes neurologically
So that we might truly see
That which we truly are
Becoming and being
The essence and root of universality

XI.

THE SHADOW OF MODERNITY

Proliferation of capital masking as ‘options and innovation’ is simply people trying to justify their existence under perpetual population expansion which is enabled by continued creation of ‘ease of life and life sustaining’ by way of technology; technologies - medical, housing, food, etc

It’s a thinly veiled; not even veiled attempt to justify sustenance of mass amount of bodies created through sexual reproduction under these conditions of ‘modernity’ by way of competing interests of survival and sustenance masking themselves with the gloss of a ‘marketplace of options, choices’ et cetera.

This perpetual overproduction at the level of biological bodies is precisely the same mechanism which ‘clogs the arteries of life’. It is an engorgement of a species based on the innovation of technologies of convenience which self perpetuate its baseline mediocrity by way of an ‘affluence of median same’ (mass over reproduction of life which adheres fundamentally to the same principles of biological exceptionalism and rarity regardless of population size/mass)

This is why it’s as difficult to find a keychain as it is to find a mate - the proliferation of options, possibilities, potentialities is paralyzing at and on the level of biology enabled en masse to levels of sexual chemical and nutrific overconsumption and overproduction at levels that are non equivocal with the trajectory of long timescale evolution of biological systems themselves

Technologies in this sense create a vast overestimation of the possibilities and potentialities and real lived neuro-bio-chemical experiences and realities at the level of the individuals en masse - creating, therein, a narcissistic, egoic inflationary self relationship to existence. This bubble is inevitably popped by way of the sheer unsustainability of ‘unlimited growth’ - which in reality is the veil of convenience technologies enabling inflated sexual reproduction and species level survival (artificial laws of nature as in technologies which enable the survival of things that would not otherwise survive).

This inflationary environment conjured and summoned by these technologies of survival therein are at the fundament the species level illusionary environment and state which those whose lives are enabled by it understand - at a deep psyche level - but must repress in order to continue justifying their aided and abetted survival therein under props of pseudo aggregate nature as in technological law and order of sustenance of the organic individual.

These are the masks, smokescreens, projections, images, narratives, and vestaments of civilization; these are the fundamental truths regarding the nature and the underlying ‘horror’ of civilizational order which it cannot bear to acknowledge; the shadow it cannot comprehend or articulate - for in failing to do so, it shores up the certainty of its righteous survival; right to life. It is the underlying principle which haunts and plagues each individual, whom and which within nature’s vacuum; stripped of the toys and apparatuses and technologies of culture - fundamentally understands and knows it must either ally itself with a more biologically and physically and cognitively powerful individual (which is to say, one more natively fit for survival and direct intercourse with nature), or inevitably fall under the wheel of nature’s time and harshness of direct survival. Therein, it is this psychological state that plagues modern humanity and existence - the shadow of ancestral nature that haunts the overpopulated, over-consumed, over- technologically modified modern age; this shadow that reveals the fundamental, underlying, direct violence of nature which no human system, ideology, belief system, nor awning or overhang of civilizational technologies of ‘ease of use’ can ever obscure or hope to obscure. It is this shadow that haunts the established veil of all cultures and civilizational structures which at all divorce themselves from the direct and explicit experience of the organic body and vessel as the absolute mediator of natural forces; the forces of nature. Therein, individuals unfit to survive in a primordial nature, stripped of all the vetements and clothes of cultural veils, either fold in under shelters of ‘more powerful and fit individuals’, or technological superstructures. And it is this ‘folding in’ which haunts their every waking moment and day; is their continued and perpetual need and attempt to self justify existence in said superstructural pseudo-reality.

Therein, what is lost is something deeply essential and fundamental to the sense of real life; the connection of and to biological life and the whole sphere and essence of nature and existence – the primordial connection of the direct mediation of nature and natural forces through the body – as in the cosmic fire; essence of the creation of the universe through which all creation travels – through all bodies. The loss of this is accrued by way of artificial, plastic forms of technological mediation which create this precise anxiety of the divorce from nature by way of the institution of systems, methods, and devices which allow for survival; sustain phantom bodies where otherwise bodies and lives and life could not be sustained. This is the essential zombification and somnambulism of life – through which false mediation, mirroring, and plastic and metal create the concept and precept of existential anxiety as opposed to direct confrontation with the symphony of life and death which is the life of the biological organism under and within the stars; the nexus and net of the star system itself.

Through these mirrors and mediations, civilization fundamentally asserts its claim – ‘this system and structure is valuable because it makes life easier, more possible’. Therein, what it promises is in fact the death, semblance, and simulation of life. And this is the origin of the confusion of the animal in the construct of plastic and metal modernity and civilization – the confusion that survival is no longer mediated in the bare and direct terms of the interfacing of the body with nature itself, but the body with a false precept and concept of artificial rules and networks of power creation through masks, shadows, smoke, images, mirrors, and screens which mimick natural power; promise natural power – but time and time again, cannot deliver the truth and essence of existence, nature, and being – which is, again, the direct mediation of the body with natural forces; with, within, and as Nature itself. This direct ensconcing is a form of primordial liberation and unity that civilization, by definition, cannot access – and yet, this is all it promises – the natural power afforded by natural mastery; survival of freedom and liberation within the true codes of nature which are the codes, fundamentally, as in a unity, of the body itself.

This mask is the perpetual frustration of civilization, modernity, and humanity. It is the continued failure disguised as cars, economic currency, political success – all in the face of a natural reality of death and a beautiful wind of the bare nature and essence of survival which is itself a dearth of beauty, a plasticine sheer – where all that it can afford is the representation; shallow, sallow shadow of beauty. And therein, humanity which rests under the awning of civilization suffers deeply. Lost of freedom under the stars and the direct, embodied nature of survival itself. This, it trades in its fear; embodied in a false, second suit – where it cannot touch the direct light, fire, and lightning of true existence – only the image and representation of it. Therein, there is no life in technological civilization. Only shades and stone. All those powerful who submit themselves to it are lost in confusion; confusion as to the tricks of light which play across its walls.

XII.

All is artifice; symbolic of the fundamental, essential;
Shades through which we seek the light incarnate;
Rippling through us; the experience of ecstatic unity. Through all tomes, bodies, writhings, pages; densities of sedimental ground,
We search like moles of the inner lightedness; The true residence and unity between us;
All things.

All mirrors of light and apparatuses are methods;
All turnings and glimpses; all sensate bodies and their magnetism, all calls towards the essence of within-ness
Of inner interiority, through which we spring;
Through which life in the essential fiery unity of inner identity springs.

In this way, all eyes, ears, faces, fronts, and manifest bodies are indelibly linked. Each vibrating at their own private signature of self reference; the connecting string and web of synaptic chemical reactions and neurological networks;
Webs of information and veins which are the establishment and movement of chemical and synaptic bonds.
In this way the flesh of all things perennially is in a state of change of time; a state of state change. Through the vines of space, worlds of feeling, sensate information creeps. This is the essential, embodied knowledge of life;
The earth of the flesh and skin of the things;
Raw elemental particles; ecosystems and pools of breath; flesh exchange
Which form the airs of mutual coexistence;
Breathing.

At the molecular level, information is perennially absorbed, disjected, and transferred.
Genetic chains of language form like booklets and parcels of information; building blocks of life. Replicators speak to themselves among the world of their own language;
Embodied in the speech of animals, plants, planets,
And the neural networks of their groundings.
The sound of the existence of a planet’s sphere and density
Selfsame to the quiet noise of a body’s appearance in microcosmic space -
Alike, entirely in that form is a sigil of sound;
A vision of speech
Which sings a certain density;
Which whirrs a certain inner tune
Of the churning symphony of organs and digestive sinews.

This information is the digestive fire of life; the synapses and stations which process information - all of which reach the utmost and ultimate; are in fact themselves life
Beyond all artificial borders and boundaries of the sensate creeping of the flesh;
Enclosed subjective prisons and worlds of experience.
Unleashed, the total powers of the universal fire
Are hidden stations of each individual element in correspondence to the chemicals which collide, combine, bond, build and inform them
At the level of the structural bone of their existent information.

Closer to the fire, sophisticated neural networks and chemical compounds
Scaffold in perennial self contemplation. Consumption upon consumption, fires built and wrought of the flesh of the old
Bringing the dawning of the new eye and mouth of contemplation
Of the grounds to which all falls away and returns to;
Of the grounds from which all life springs.
This immortal essence is the fundament and substratum of all existence;
In this way, is the fundamental ground of all that is and ever will be.
It is the realm of galactic potentiality; the spider web of intercoursing, interrelating stars
Beyond concept of space and time
Into the reality of their confluence and communication of synaptic information of light
Across bridges of stars;
The networks of the closeness of their heat;
Their radiating dispersements of energy.

In this way, there is wholeness beyond the bridge of space and time -
Into the intercommunication and interrelation of the network of the cosmic body - across all scales of density; planetary stones and the teeming rays of light between, beneath, and amongst them; the cracks of dew, molecular hydrogen, waters of life; atmospheres of mossy growth of densities
Fed with the ground of earth and the mixture of ocean, soil, salt
To rise forms of neurological beauty and essential unity
With the cosmic mind; the matrix and web of space and time
Through which light rays pass; exchange information; food and nutriment of being
Alight and between them.

This, in truth, is what we are;
What we are is beyond measure; an unfolding wholeness
Couched in the essence of flame; the transmission of blue neurochemical energy;
Electrical nucleothermal life.
We are a changing light; a dial through which all passes at scales and measures of the mote and mighty; the raising force and density of stones; cores of metabolic, enginic, fiery life.

XIII.

The sieve of resonant life is closer, closer still to the fire; degrees and volumes of the beating heart - drawn within to the pulsing blood animated
By resonance universes with metabolic cores.
This essence of being, the inner discovered rhythm,
Closer and closer to the fire we amble, wary,
From ancient blind eyes, climbing with perpetual recombinate reunity to the source of their animate flame and searching; reeling
From projections of light which are mirrors and images; wrought toward images of the flame; bounced back out into our own neural fields; cores of perception, drawn by black image
Phantoms emptied of the blood neurological core; the chemical fluid of animation which is itself the life of the stars; stones which tempt and entrance; lights which draw us forth to the heat
Where we are first bursting with plant fluid;
Cellular scaping.

Degrees removed from the thermonuclear engine, projected, out of body into world with smeared ashes of burned bodies and traces of light, grasping at individuated cores, to gather the light within the essential explosion of stars - The passage of time is the dark exoskeleton of craters; used skeletons; bleached desert of being. We are the passage which passes through them; emerges in the perpetual fresh dawn of presence. The night is a distance; darkness, an observation of the excrementation of being; its paradoxical, unborn; undying potentiality -
The soil of the body of which we have flung to reveal the heart of life, pounding, pulsing, fresh and renewed.
Endlessly, this moment -
Do not mourn the dead, for there is no death, perpetual overturning; that which is waiting to be born
All fire remains, where all else does returns to the hearth from whence it burns and projects rays from the absence of fusion;
The unity of stark contrasts; duality of form and formlessness -
For the dead is a burned out form, blackened and returned to the essential ash of the black night of mirrorless being; a vibrant screen receiving all calls and rays of light; all shimmering; sheens; heats of resonance
Awaiting the turning of midnight. Dissolved
We ourselves are life, undivorced;
With eyes that project degrees of illusions; spectacles of the fire;
We are the ground at and upon which the bodies of the dead and the stars of all life are being burned and perpetually resurrected;
We are the heat of the ash, and the match that was struck
From the current of shimmering midnight

The direct, lived experience of being human
Is a measure of the rainbow blood of life; the full spectrum of life
Spread across each dewing dawning of nature’s breath.
From fawn to stag, grass to sunlit starlight;
From the mingled blood and network of neurological flesh of the ascending animal
Through the coded speech of the flame
We rise to witnessing the source and force of all of existence;
The essence of being which ripples with thermodynamic heat and truth
Through all forms, as a passage of entropic time.
Time whips with the force of the flame in an arcing form; rises us to full fury of mote, lilic perfection; the violent, violet red blooming of the rose of sight; the pumping of the furious blood; ascends and scales the heights of the form reaching the inner core and star of the heating fusion,

That we are the sun; the very inner force through which light is dispersed; bounds and bounces off mirrors of absconding form, which flees and chases like antelope and leopard,
Form which burns through the night and shapeshifts
Into new inner cores of delights.
That we are the feeling body, tempered to a vibrant, vibratory rhythm
Through which neurological roots build, weave, recombinate, admix
In dewy, chemical time.

Roots extend in all directions, from cell life and molecular cores; reach and bond in chemical affinities.
Like heated magnets draw like heated magnets,
Of similar resonance and reactive potentiality; possibility. This is the propelling force of stars; the frictive flame of the inner fires
Which propel the endless explosion of the birth of the universe perpetually forth.
We are the seat of the car; the vessel of the propellation; the engine of the fire which is the birth of time, place, space, and all things.
Thus we are located centrally, immanently, and immediately in the powerful scope and presence of the essence moving about, within, and from itself.
This locus is the core of all stars, planets, and living bodies.
From it, are shorn the dead arms, legs, and forms - which are resumed in the tinder of the mansion house of the stars; the body of the stars which burns; feeds; eats and resumes off of itself in a perpetual reunity
Of the scales of life and death, light and dark, the burning away and the ash that is resumed in the rising of the heat and light;
The explosive, expulsive force which perennially resumes the natural rhythms of time;
The still in which the cosmic life is endlessly reincarnated.

We spiral and spear; dip and dive like pelican birds in search of the ancient fish of life in the waters of fire; we spear for the image of the witness; the fire which we see
Rippling through the flesh of the life which whips by around us, tempestuous;
The heart of love which is manifest in all things which come to be and pass away;
In scales, the neurology and the systems of blood pumping;
In scales, we are a sophistication of becoming,
A resurrection of life through the perennial recombination of linguistic complexities
The essential genetic code through which the fire builds the flesh of forms;
Through which it sees, witnesses, tempers, and behaves,
Experienced by the warm vat of the body, blood, and mind synthesis -
The experience that it has of the unfolding of itself.

To not be deceived by the passage of forms; that which comes to be and passes away in the vessel and flue; the digestive system of all time and space; the cosmic fire which breathes through all things; their resonance chambers, through which the thermonuclear essence alights the form; animates the flesh and consciousness; passes away into endlessly reiterated containers;
In this way, we are not closer to the fire,
But we are that endless essence itself, as it transmits through trees, red meat, berries, the life of the blood;
The heat rhythm of the life and age of the stars itself
At scales of powers of witnessing; descent and ascent of the primordial dripping heat of the blood; the rays and veins of the sun
As they in distance and time temper the conditions for the emergence of animal bodies, plant bodies; cellular life in the pulsing currents of ocean waters;
Captivate forms of electricities; construct chemical togethernesses; molecular bonds of elemental differences,
Matched together, drawn together and apart by their electrical constituency;
The quality of the measure of their unfolding;
The embodiment of the vibrant body in which they sit and command;
The eyes of their perennial, unfolding awakening.

All species; within are embodied truth;
Eyes to degrees of illusion; spectacles of the fire,
Wherein the eyes themselves are the true jewels, gems, and gold of the body of fire
Which is impelled by the true, animate, and animating powers of existence.
We are moved by that which is the life of the cosmos; the life of the blood of the universe,
For in the movement of the fire,
In truth we are eternal;
As the essence of the flame,
In truth we are infinite;
The essence of life itself,
Shapeshifting, rebirthing, undying
Turning of forms and formlessness.

XIV.

The experience of life is reducible to the most remote chemical particle’s movement,
A hydrogen descendancy brushed by the fires of attraction.
Pulse, rhythm, electricity, current and flow
Are determined by the complex, multidimensional equation of chemicals calling from their mass and electromagnetic gravity
Across all spheres and distant planes;
Clusters of stars and far galactic stations.
To orbit, they are called and called away
In the breakings of the bonds which determine their planetary regularity;
Their suns and moons of atomic nuclei and bands of bonds of light and dark; presence and absence.

Space is filled, weighty, like objects in water; a volume upon a plane; the introduction of currency to a zero point; a disruption of sound; an assertion of frequency
Such life of objects is a low bass tone of long waves; dense and slow calling
Or a high, flighty squeaking reverberation of birds;
Objects that take to space and movement with ease when force is introduced; called away from the lockstep gravity of the sphere of their massive bearings.

The generation of force disrupts; such is the legacy of life, in the continuous unfolding of attractions and repulsions of magnetic chemical quality, reaction upon reaction
Interfaces sustain and disject life with regular codeswitching of fundamental and basic laws. Carbon bodies take to space; are added and subtracted via the basic arithmetic of the rhythm of their function; the frequency of their chemical upkeep and flow.
The creation and destruction of the natural quality is entirely formed at and in the fundament and basin of the constituency of the chemical form; the bonds which retain its internal function; current of electric energy.

What is strange is the introduction of the inward altering force of thinking mind, the force of consideration and active alteration of the causal plane and dimension of being -
The altering force of thinking mind which can actively change by way of consideration and onlooking; creative imagination and participation
The perennial unfolding of the chemical reaction, through force and magnetic attraction
Which drew mind to a cognitive point;
Like a sieve toward a singularity of perception, outwardly expands toward a radically liberated nature.
From the necessitous bonding and unbonding of chemicals working from the internal logic of their constituent parts,
A production which reflects back upon the process;
Can actively introduce and reintroduce seeming breakings
Of the essential code of law of the nature’s unfolding.

Here is thought; here is mind,
In nature’s chemical laboratory of organic forms
Assembled with elemental, essential legacies
Into increasingly compound organs of energetic function and exchange of essential information,
Vital electrical pulses and the book of blood.
This language is inherently chemical; built upon the code of molecular bonds,
The law of the organ, the liver
Is the same as the law of the reed, the bone;
The tree.

The thinking mind tips the scales and balance of nature into a chaos of singularity;
A world of before and after. For before the mind, there was a natural unity, entirely contained and holistic, a presence of the animal which is no different than the presence of the energetic recombinator of thermodynamic fire;
Yet, the mind, with the capacity to rebel against the codes of nature, wittingly or unwittingly so,
Even as it reaps the rewards of this journey of separation.
Mind, thrust into the unknown, forgetful of the book of laws
Through which the entire cosmos functions.
That which moves the inner being of the cellular body; the synapses
Seeking unity with intradimensional partners
To form the muscle sinew of existence;
The embodied form with the capacity to hold water and energy;
The capacity to pump and pulse information to and from the neural centers of its form.

Therein, mind, unreturned with conscious recognition; cognition of natural law
Is an agent of chaos - an ancient memory of the primordial science which emerged all things;
Threw them into a perennial law of cause and effect; forces in persistent discourse.
A memory of the unbroken unity before the duality of objects; the play and pull; push and shove of resonances; bodies in space.
The mind remembers the ancient blank slate of existence; returns life to the chaos of reorganization;
The primordial law before material causal bodies;
The law of the mind; the law of thought;
The introduction of apparitions, by the symbolic shadow of words; images; shades of mind’s light
Which trigger material alterations;
Ripples in the fabric of the thread once forsoothed;
So tightly wound.
This world of matter comes apart at the seams like a ball of yarn
When introduced to the mind with imaginative capacity; deep abstraction and reflection.

For mind penetrates into the apparatus of the chemical function; resolves and deduces the coming together and apart of universes;
The thread of being; the seat of awareness and awakening
Which is the primordial energy of the thunder and fire,
The living membrance of the fire that was hid
From the first movement; creation of space and time
Into the container and vessel of all things,
Like a hidden stone; an essential force
Within all matter to varying degrees of electro-bio-chemical animation. That the world moves, it is moved by this force;
The compound effects of gravitation;
Of all chemical, molecular, elemental life upon and within the body,
Scaffolding, like organs within the body of a shark;
Microscopic fish which feed upon the reeds of its gills. The hunger of survival which feeds upon the blood of its own solar making.
This world is a body within a body; a massive, missive fabric of fires within fires;
A symphony of moving instruments and organs of fiery blood; an altering lightning
Channeled through the word of the directive mind
Operating from the zero point of cosmic awareness;
The hertz resonance of silence;
The primordial stillness from which all life emerges;
The fear of death from which all organisms operate;
The decoupling of cellular bonds into the chaos of an elemental night
In which they are innately, strangely resurrected
On differing timelines; constituting different molecular forms.

Thus, mind is a techne of the body; a first power
As that it operates on primordial, first principles. It returns us to a night where there is no mind, no thought, no body,
Only perpetual being; it is from that place of abstract, conceptual thought,
That all forms are created; that place from the molecular and chemical building blocks of all life and time;
From the elemental hydrogen which is the house of the stars
That all structures of matter and purpose
Weight and body are built.
That we use these abstract, winds and limbs of air;
A place, a palace beyond conception
To return to the underlying, reverberating, vibrating absence,
The place of pure potentiality;
It is there that life is neither pushed nor pulled
But ever renewed at the source of all things.

From there, the mind moves
And alters, communicates with the cellular dynamic and fabric,
The energetic thread of all existence. Mind, like signal to hand, moves the beaker of chemical reactory with conscious forethought,
Deliberate introduction of new factor and impulse
In curiosity, art, and experimentation.
From there, the mind moves, with the nexus of a representative symbolism;
A shadow of language, an interlocutor -
To work with and from first principles of vibratory energy - to work with a mediation
Between the world of the shades of conception
And the material forms of the birthing of figures of realization.
This magic of creation is a speech to the cellular network; the energetic fabric
Which is itself the construction of nature’s language -
A speech from which nature’s language speaks;
Takes its own turn
Toward the imaginative depths of chaos;
The exploration of the unknown;
The introduction of the radical destabilization of the ecosystem of unconscious reaction
Which built the stepladder and throne toward consciousness; deliberation, forethought, and imagination.
From the establishment of this mind; the skyrocketing of its language;
The use of symbolism to interface between the immortal, primordial realm
And the ephemeral realm of shades and forms,
It uses symbols as a mirror, a reflectory,
A Persean shield -
To gaze upon the fabric of nature;
Alter it by command of its essential code;
Introduce new powers of life and light
To that which previously was an undergrowth of bio-chemical experimentation.
For that which from the mind has risen,
Is now reflected upon by mind;
In as such,
Is now irrevocably changed;
Opened to new realms
Of leaping possibility;
Paradigm change.

To use these elements, the building blocks of existence; the lightning thread
With conscious mind
Is to build great spires of beauty;
To extend the unity of the depths of life
To the thermonuclear mind of the stars;
With absolute, fundamental power
To embody the resonance engine of all space and time
At the depths of the fiery life
Which birthed the blood of living;
The living being.

XV.

THE UNIVERSO-STELLAR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM OF THE ESSENCE OF ALL BEING

We are born within the stellar star of being
From within the vibrational, primordial fields
Wherein the first explosion set the stellar hearth for our transformation and perennial changing.
From the first elements, we barely rested; hot and dense, barreling from infinitude toward infinitude
Upon a carriage of forceful, quickening fire
From the source of its flaming nuclear core;
The essence of its nature and being.

From this place, we became stars within stars;
A stellar evolution driving the evolution of the greater form
At all scales and levels; constitutions of forms of being.
We, thermal engines of the cosmos;
In the hearth of stars is our truest form
For their hearth is the hearth of the first form
Which birthed all living memory; all forges which work, like thermal engines of the cosmos
In their fusionary fires, converting elements
Into strange new forms.

From the first stellar fires; the depths of thermonuclear fusion of the essential organisms which connect and interrelate their light and heat across vast swathes of the synapses; the blood and fire and plasmic fluid of the universal scale
Like a web, a network of exchanged heat and information
We are indelibly descended; like these stellar forges, we too are a working thing; a pumping system of blood and neural energy,
A regulation of movement; a consumption of fuel in the forge of our perennial reproduction
Of excrement, breath; conversion of the elemental materials
Transacted from the first forms of the fundament
Into subtle new forms; weightier, heavier densities,
More complex compounds.

For from nuclear reactories the elements which make the form of the body possible are made;
Thus we are a recombinate chemical possibility of created elemental forms. Drawn toward ourselves by the electromagnetic quality; the field of the chemical properties of the densities
Of forms struggling to emergence in complex cellular life.
The breath and respiration of cellular conversion;
The fusion of inner heat and release of energy as electromagnetic radiation. The bonds which carry us power and move the energy which consumes us; that which we consume,
The innate, fundamental stellar force
The fire of the birth of the universe.

It is handed down to us, within us, through us
In a set of scales, through which the heat is passed;
Made digestible in increasingly smaller forms; smaller bodies; degrees of removal from the thermonuclear essence,
The universe, the star before and within all stars;
The cooling of the clouds from which stars were born again from the ashes of being;
Fused in the cooling of the forge and the solidification of the elements into forms.
It is from this cooling of the forge of death and change that the possibility of the birth of new forms is made;
The bonds, forces, and charges between elemental and chemical structures which held them loosens;
Upon death, they release and explode; expulse their compound terrain into the field of the night
Where molecules, atoms, and chemicals
Are drawn into new forms, domains, and fields of resonant charge.
Again and again, engines are assembled in the night
In an evolutionary movement of transportation through the endless banging of the first star;
Through which all stars in space and time move in their increasing sophistication.
In this way, time is a cooling which makes the dispersion of forms and new elemental signatures and densities palpable; possible
From the realm of the first moments of essential heat and light
Down into distance; spatial cooling; memory of and through which this first movement is replicated and underwent
As a thermodynamic life of the changing and conversion of elements through the metabolic body of fire.

That which we are and that which we experience is this primary cosmic fire,
Embodied and imbued through every essential form.
All is the memory of the first star, the explosion of the universe which is the incitation and excitation of the expulsion of the flame
Which is the prime mover of all stars, cells, cosmos,
And astral bodies.
From the stellar fusion to the chemical reactory, we are forges at all scales of conversion;
A process of ongoing, perpetual transmutation
Of the first elements of the cosmos into chemicals, compounds, and elements of increasing complexity,
Through the cool illusions of death which are in truth transferences of the potentialities forged through the specieal bodies
Which extend from the sphere of universal, galactic forms to the sphere of the atomic and the cellular.

Stars gain mass and fusion ignites, just as the chemical and cellular form of the animal or the plant receives the regulatory energy and nutrific food of metabolic cores descendant from the sun.
Upon their mass determines their heat; the sphere of their burning; the field of their electromagnetic radiation; the impact of their power and force in space. Resonant radiators; shaking, vibrating at such frequency and capacity that all appears to be a distant light, or a solid form - to the naked eye.
We are traded and changed; within this great exchange, the very form that we are, as an endless process - from stars and suns to earthen cores; to plants and flesh;
We live and breathe inside these transformational fires and exchanges:
Which warm our blood and alight our synapses. This metabolic forge is our transference of the primary energetic principle of thermodynamic, thermonuclear convergence into new forms
Which descends into brief containers of fire -
Wherein which the essential form of existence experiences itself; lives within the resonance field of its flame;
Moves; thus moves the stars in its perennial, unbroken, primordial unity.
We are as a field of energy, unbroken;
A pure force, a pure fire, a pure heat - the creationary force of being through which all stars within the great star of the universe are forges; conversions through the clouds, fields, particulate memories of death and overturning; burnings away into the breakings apart of stars in supernovae; great explosions
The perpetual renewal of strange forms, essences, elements, and chemical recombinations
Via our thermonuclear and thermodynamic, metabolic forge, hearth, essence, and central core of heat, energy;
Recombinative changing.

In this way, the cosmos is a primordial digestion, through which all power is made, formed, and transferred, via the force of the heat and the burning which propels and impels the various cosmic forms; through this transformation we are the steam and the smoke which moves the cells and spins the planetary spheres;
The attractor from which moves and pulls the stars;
The heat of the forge of their gravity. It is this deep weight that births all things; that is their birthing;
The foundation and basis for all renewal;
New chemical reactions, forms, and electromagnetic fields;
The dance of beings, attractions, repulsions, reactions, and movements across all scales.

From fusion, metabolism, digestion; the descendance of the forge of the flame
All elements are made and remade; from the lightest elements of hydrogen and helium
To the deeper, more complex, baritone densities.
As the universe and the stars within the great star of being cool, complexity forms in the environment
By way of density allowed
By way of the temperature of the space of the forge;
The distance of the heat of the light of the sun.
Therein, in small pools, cells populate and recombinate
From the first form of hydrogen, descended into densities
Carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, phosphorus, sulfur;
Into a chemical reaction of possibilities;
A magnetism of explosive fields of becoming.
From what was once entirely all primordial potentiality;
Descended from the highest forms of light; the lightest densities of energy;
Descended into the depths and forms of the cooling of matter, cells and tissues
All imbued with the memory of the hearth in the incarnation of its form;
The stellar memory of the star within the star;
The heat and forge which is the essence of being -
The essential changing, transformation, and unfolding of new possibilities through the existence of the hearth and forge of the form -
Which burns as stars burn, metabolic; sheds waste, chemicals, nutriments, excrements, heat, light, steam, smoke; finally, the form in which it performs the forging changing -
Releasing the elements of its constituency back to the vibrating, vibrant field and cloud of the atoms and elements of dust, smoke, particles,
Through which new stars are recombinant; new forms are changed and exchanged;
Into the forge in which new elements are formed.

From star systems to organisms, this is our essential organization, unbroken, in a process that is at all scales a passage of density through the heat of space and time - the unfolding of the first form of the primordial star of the universe; the cooling of its essential heat and flame
Which allows stars within stars; organisms within organisms; cells within cells to form, interact; recombinate and chemically shift their modes of being -
All within them the metabolic flue of being.
The initial energy source of the first star is endlessly passed, down through densities of new forms and elements; their chemical compounding; collapse into gas and dust;
Their changing from the fusion of heat; the clouds of death and overturning. The cloud is necessary for the star to be reborn; from the ashes arisen
To recombine, shift, and evolve new complexities, subtleties, dimensions, and forms
From the distance and depth and space produced by the rising and falling of starlife; stellar heat
Which propels the cosmos forward.
Entirely an evolutionary process of movement and complexity through thermal densities; depths of the creation of space,
Through which numerous organisms, populations, galaxies, and stars resound, interact, recombine; regenerate through the essential dusts and heat of the elements formed
In the space and time created in the greater sphere of the celestial charge of the universal star.

It is this essential, proto-cosmic metabolic experience
That we experience as life

XVI.

thermonuclear nesting doll phenomenon
‘the quality of the being-ness’
scales of thermonuclear/metabolic interaction
production and consumption of energetic compounds/forms/elements

does this work adequately describe the thermonuclear nesting doll phenomenon at all levels as 'propelling. the universe forward' as a sort of evolutionary engine

is this described as a 'essential thermo-neural-chemical' firing of the universe as embodied at all scales of the stellar stars and the chemical, cellular, atomic

as the foundation and basis of all movement

ATP, stellar fusion, throwing off heat, light, rays, radiation, electromagnetism, products; materials, new elements, et cetera; new compounds with new disjections, excrementaitons of recombinants in the forge and flame of the thermonuclear-metabolic flame

transference of essential energy unbroken across all spectrums; the ‘codification’ of that energy in relation to distance, cooling of the explosion of the first star (big bang); the creation of ‘scales of being’ of complexity and recombination through the process of cooling/distance/‘time’

unified field of energetic transference across ‘simulated bounds’ of entropic forms; ‘closed systems’ of beings/organisms/stars

what is essential; the essential identity is that energy

‘Psychic identification with and at the universe level unfolding cosmic creationary thermonuclear cosmic metabolic resonance unified field of being existence’

Ie ‘the truth of being’

XVII.

The mind wants the jungle of terror of distant memory,
Hormonal spillage. The eating of a daemonic crescent moon;
The fire of the blood consumed. We throw shunted bones into the pyre of the belly, the stairs of the electrical pyramid of blood.
Once the stump, once cellular eye,
Lingering, leering, out from the precipice ocean of the abyss.

Born, sexed to kill, entwined in a mating dance of knives
In a fire of ever building, pluming smoke. We circle, entranced, chanting the calls of mating.
Bright feathers; delused spectrums of light project from the stars which pulse the metabolic hunger of panthers
Heaving from our stomachs and chests.
We must shovel the coal of this mortal world to alight the synapses; maintain the fluid electricity of the project of mind, the neural cores
Like stations on a computational device.
The illusion, the vision is sustained
By the cameral mind.

We pour into ourselves like the salve of water, wine stained blood goblet
From the golden chalice of the sun burning in the endless mists of the night;
Endlessly recollected to itself from the ash of its burning; resurrected in the still of emptiness,
Fasted night
This divine mimickry is a scale of chord we endlessly ascend and descend
From the thermonuclear core and furnace of stars; the first elemental dispersion of hydrogenic pressure
To the explosive metabolic core of the stomach.

Binary song. Two elements, impenetrably light
Throwing off density. We cool in the time of the end of tension, dispersion of friction into passage;
Distance of burning where chemical atoms fuse.
Dark tunnels of water; in densities we breathe and wake;
Tumble from wombs of atomic, elemental forming.
Eyes that gaze toward the source of life
Impenetrable and leering as the star’s gaze
That stares back into the core of cellular metabolic ash and bone.

The book of the gene never forgets the relics of fire that it was to consume, the blood that it was to spill and combine - the seed, fluid, egg and womb that is its endless passage;
The cellular division and star fission which wrought and brought the heaviest and lightest elements into this sphere and plane;
Dispersed them weightily; light like air and imagistic projection
Upon the screen of this universal mode.
We swim within recombinations of the things which lift us up toward the neural cores of fire; the eye of sight born in the dawn of the sun; the sigh of the chemical breath of the universe, the star before stars;
The heavy, dense ash of the form of the burning body,
Solidified from birth of aether into stone.

This planet is a body which feasts upon itself; from which rises the eye of light
Which reflects, like a symbol of moon
The essence of light which burns within. The heat which sustains and passes around silent, closed forms;
The flame which is their rising and falling of breath; the sustenance of their vibratory, frequent quality of presence and return.
Each night dips bare toes of the form into the black ink of infinity; for a moment withdraws entirely into the silence of the pregnant universe before time;
The silence that was stilled before the dance of forms,
Before there was the weighted mirror of opposites - pure, undivided space;
Equal sonic density, no fires nor stars which drew breath and expelled heat.

The mind remembers the false terror of the jungle of entwined bodies which rose the core of the form. The same fires of the cores of stars which gathered smoke and dust from the ashes of the first star; made and remade them in the recombination of the furnace of their burning. For there was primordial silence before the perennial resurrection and reincarnation of all things
From the ashen clouds of distant memory, the materials forged and solidified in the forge of the first burning.
The body becomes a dark star; a cloud of molecular ash, coal, and oil to be resorbed in the birthing anew
Of a thermonuclear gravity

Within this ancient process of overturnings
Gradients of forms rise and fall; entangle and entwine for memory of the energy and light; radiation shirked and thrown off the backs of stars; elements from the forge tumbled into forms. Densities recombined; all holding within them the seed and nutriment of the memory of the flame. Such fire in the first form burns away all things
But the coal form of its memory is a fuel
For the scales it descends, in the cooling space and density of time.
Each form, with solidity and ease
Rests upon the monolithic current of tumbling light; within neighboring fields of gravitation
And moves in a penetrating abyssal arrow - a drill to living,
Boring into the depths of the fiery core
From which all things are merged and emerge.

Brief flare, which burrowed into the depths - a memory within a memory,
A body within a hidden, laval core
Is the eye, which seeks and searches;
Is the heart and hand, which sensates and touches.
Projected lore is the earth, which from warm forge, above and below - is two stars of life, whose crust is the meeting place between masks and actors of essential same.
Upon all scales of its floral, faunal, and cellular life
Is the inner essence of consumption; the respiration of the heat and burning which is its time and space.
Each form and molecule takes dimension upon this premise and promise of form; each returns to the field of cloud, the remnants of dark stars of death,
To be burned and burned forevermore in the matrix between matter and light;
Flame and the container and hidden appearance of form.
It is this dance of light and shadow, heat and shade
Which is our dance, through which we tumble, perennial and simple, like the turning veil of light through the leaves of a shifting, changing tree.
This dial is the birth and death, the rising and falling,
The wave of sine which is the wave of song;
The rhythm and eve of the turning of all seasons
Which is our matrix of being, apparition, and disapparition.
Here today, once, and gone are we, in the dial of the burning -
And yet remain eternally in the burning itself. This thermonuclear essence of all matter; this gathering together; joining of the hands of death and the dead,
The resurrection from the ash of forms of being into the reactory core of the heat of all life
Is like this turning of the sun
Mimicked across all spheres, dimensions, veins, flues, and galaxies of the universe.
For we are life, blinkering in and out of existence,
Upon the beat and dial of the day and night; upon the wavering particle of the dream of death and life - the frequency of the ascent and descent of matter and light,
Spirit and form.

XVIII.

We walk in a land of shades, glimmering gems. Afoot by the movements of chemicals,
Clinging to the earth like passionate bonds. We here are grounded in the bones which eat and possess;
Give skeletal structure to the lightning of the wind. We wander, amidst this vague terror of dissolution,
The crackling of distant storms; to be overwhelmed by the emotion of water,
This world of twisting currents; forces which mend, bend, and break compound forms.
To reduce us to our greatest simplicity, we are a field that receives reverberations of burning light.
We take in the radiant breath of the expulsive force of distant stars; we are animated by the spiral movement
Which thrusts all chemical reactions, our elemental bindings. This book of song is a ceaseless movement
Sung in the eaves of the trees of galaxies, drooping, dripping - overladen with the cosmic fruits of fire.
Within them, we are like seeds, mote particles, wandering like synapses for the charge of unity.
Fruits of the sun which feed us; grounds of the soil which concede us
To the bowels of the earth. For a time we shall hide in the wandering black currents of a faded, distant star,
A cloud of ideation, a dispersed ash to be gathered once more into the birth of a star within a star.
Endless magnitudes are the staircase, octaves which we descend into the necessary distance which sculpts us
From the clay of sheer immortal elements. An elixir refined in the passing cores of the stars which burn and break;
Expel forms, giving us the world of time. Something light within us, hydrogen, reaches once more back up to the dawn,
The crevasse and break point from which all life emerged. The chemicals which search and seethe in the tumbling, flickering
Filtered light of the caves of the drumbeat of the ocean remember the infinity from which they fell into forms;
The spire of reunifications which they climb from the depths toward remembering the light. We, relics of the dead,
Are fallen by the necessity of the distance of the divorce of time;
Embers and sparks hid within the container of mute forms. What speaks and sees within us is the immortal birth
Of the universe; the hidden nature of time.

For beneath the veil of the rocky elements dispersed about the field and terrain of space
Lies the vast primordial silence, less than an ocean, less than a wind
But a creationary plane upon which all forces and fields react and sustain, call and respond, push and pull;
Thrust galactic movements into being. Each is sustained, like puppets upon a string
By distant measures; hidden constancies of presence, sound, and frequency. We are upheld by a distant, unknown blood
A pulse of unpronounced, infinite measures. Such vastness is like the opacity of the body, strung about the stars. The mind’s eye wanders
Among limbs and neurons, organs and intestines of celestial operations,
A spatial cooperation which levitates the body and produces the levity of breath. Upon a string are the current laws
Which sustains nature’s forms. We are predicated upon an entranced movement of celestial bodies; a lip locked geometry
Of strange, crystalline giants spinning
Upon the necklace of an immortal goddess - whose black glove is the dust of the dead;
The shimmering cave of the wolf spider, the black hold dimension.
We are thrust down toward the black and heavy, like a tunnel into the grave of the earth
Where is hid the hungry daemon’s face.

Lovers of fire, for they are the embers that burn tart, like cherry stains upon the lips
Of a child between bestial manhood and immortality. We stand like a gape, a bridge, with arms and legs outstretched
Between the dandelion wind of elemental dispersion; the great drifts of the stars and asteroid fields. Sinews of muscle,
Taut like the strings of a guitar fashioned from oxygenated driftwood, teething with chemical fury. Eyes that roll and turn
To protect the breast and breath of fire, the core of the unfolding reactory process.
We cling to life with the additive consciousness of eyes with stars, temples of a brief aristocracy,
An overturning which is a parallax dimension beyond the sensory breach, a charge which is a wildfire amidst the stoic rules
Which govern beasts under the stars.
The stone that is within is not dead, but a relic, a drifting, hidden star. We are a pickaxe that breaks open the rock of similarity,
A forge which tempers the form,
A sculptor which draws the angel from the depths of silent material storms. From within the stone is the fire which we hold alight,
Aloft to the night and remember the birth of all life;
The possibility and chance which is the rolling of a flint black dice
Against the matchbook canvas of a waiting midnight. A burning that extends its hand down through the most mote of all things,
A single, writhing cell in the brickwork of dirt. To rise through the hidden cracks of dense opacity, life is like a hand from the lightest dead of night,
A silent reverberation
Reaching downward;
Life is like a hand from the densest, deepest stone
Reaching up.
We rub the fire of the stone of the night together with the curtain of the potentiality of speech;
The flaming sigil and letter of form is the world we emerge. This figure of the human form is a vibration, a life, a quality of being,
A secret, sacral, hidden inner song. That we sing, we do not know; we are tempered by the forge below;
We rise and fall, gasping, grasping at the veil, the rope, the rungs of the image of the inner light
Drifting, flying with a fixed image through the spiraling of days and nights. We hunger, we fast,
In the illusions, in the projections of light; in the chain of apparitions which lead us back to the first form:
The embodied, red breast of the hot of stars; the heat of the blood,
The fire of the body which we gather; the body which burns and disperses like a temple of heat and smoke;
Discurses with the stars above and the star below.

Let us not then be cowards, and hide from the barrel of the black night to which we run,
One among the antlers of the deer and the coven of the fish of the deep; the cells that sustain their writhing scales.
We run in a field dark and yet lit by the lamps of stars; we are to be born and born again in the elemental fires which constitute the game of chance
Which the whole world of the cosmos ceaselessly plays. Who, truly, is the distinguished hand which plays with the molecular vessels of hidden life,
But that same hand which crashes waves upon the shore; dances in a perfect gravity,
The same hand which is the generation of the will of force, through which the body of mind must choose:
A field of operation, entranced by the webbing, turning gem of the moon.
Skin is spun like the silk of a spider, the whirling of the vortex of the heart; the spinning axis of the language of the gene
And the planets which chase separate, inviolate days and nights, from backs and chests to the heart of the star:
In the butter churn of the still of life, the force which whips the utter black of the night into a red heat from the core;
From phases and states of change: water to ice; solid to liquid form. The heat of gas is what we expel; that which smelts and melts us
From the fiery chambers which are our tempering smithy.
Spirit is like the word of fire brought to bare from the mouth of the chest,
And is itself hearty and presence. This quality of heat is our song; that we spin and dance, we are hot in the flame.
We who once danced around the worshipped object of fire must merge with it utterly within ourselves;
Become immolate flame.

XIX.

All that remains is the ascent of the soul, when all else is scaled;
When mountains are leveled by the fires of time to dust;
When the celestial spheres, entranced in their ancient dance
Are broken by chaos, to the rhythm of their geometry.
The fuel of the soul is the rising eye, which like the snake eating its own tail
Feasts upon the primordial energy of the cosmos; consumes itself like an ancient fuel
In its coiling, sphering, spiraling dance.

All of life is wrapped up in these electric coils, this muscle density and sinew
Of the apparitions of the electrical, nuclear chambers of the body,
Compulsive with electric light; propulsive with reactory.
Metabolism of stars propels worlds into action;
From this place the soul gains its form;
Eyes and synaptic mind.
This webbing is a current, a circuit, a glove of hands of veins
Wrapped about the fingers of force:
An engine thrust from the charge of the coils of materia
Into the inner regions; core of fire.

One who knows the fire, is intimate with the presence of the primordial consciousness,
The alchemical intuition of nature; the prima materia unfolded within and throughout
All light forms. Realization imbedded within them, far beneath in the fundament of that which produces them;
The apparitions of light, vision, and body consciousness which are mind.
This vessel is an intent, beneath all biological, evolutionary intents
Oriented toward realization of the infinite; the boundless aspect
Hid deep within the core and essence of all beings and forms.

Thus the universe approaches itself with the timidity of an animal;
Like a deeply unconscious reaction seeking its missing pieces, parts, and components -
A compendium, a machine shattered at the break and breach of the birth of the first star;
Constantly, endlessly remembering the shards, fragmentations, and sparks of the ancient fire
From it which fled into novel forms; cooled like lava into stones; solidified in the distance of space and time.
The soul is a gem, a jewel, a star, cooled and hid in the dark mime of the body,
Silent, remembering; within the seeming mundanity of the face,
Hid the core, the deep mine of ancient, primordial power of stars;
The thermonuclear fundament of creation.

If eyes were thermal, magnetic, electric
They would see life as it truly is, in various states of being aflame;
In various densities of levitation; the smoking cores of the chemical stoking of inner life forms and forces.
Forges in which the body is made, remade, and unmade; sparking flint of the chemical, molecular bonds
Forming the awning of the body.
Held together first by the coalition of language which is the book of time;
The genetic, symbolic, chemical upon chemical code -
The winding staircase upon which the being of the soul ascends,
Forever upward, toward impartial vision of the light.
Even as the body of the mind and heart expands, it breaks against the bounds and bonds of the electromagnetic force which contains it;
The distance which shields it; the sensorium of light and touch - the distance which reaches it,
And the distances which it reaches.
The body is slowly and miraculously overwhelmed by recognition of the true infinite
Of the body of the soul - the wide network of blood, the distant caress of galactic forces
Which form, sculpt, make and remake the hidden primordial fires
From whence it sips, like blue electric oceans of synaptic blood.

Container by container, the narrows of the mind and touch is shed by the awakening to the true unbroken form of the fire;
The introduction of the waters of the soul, the jetty crags of the narrows of the body; the caverns of the reflected light of the jewels in the waters of the enraptured body
To the fires of the light of the spirit, the unbroken nuclear tide
Through which each body of water is shed, wept like a tear from the stars and resembled
In the unblinking reunion of the first moment in space; the first moment in time.
Thus the light is gathered and released; vexed and concaved;
In the shuttering, breathing, shattered body,
Made and remade in a perpetual flickering of the expose of darkness;
The primordial infinite silence
And the fires of the spirit which illuminate the bodies of dark stars
Like flares within an ancient cave of time;
Like animating forces at the fundament of the sleeping soil of the soul,
Poured like water atop and seeping the grounds
From which the seed of the body of the soul expands, bursts,
And flowers.

Thus, we are eyes to see in the moment and movement of time. Thus, we are the witness dissolved into the absolute essence of awakening
Eyes reunified with the experiential body of the reach of time, shed and unshed in a dance of unity;
Caught and released by the turning of the seasons of the body; in the astronomic approach of the inner fires which threaten to overwhelm and drown the body in light;
Dissolve the soul into the mixture of pure spirit;
The cold and dark of the night of the stone, in which the stars in their solidity and difference are illuminated of their individuated cores.
The first unity was before time; the silence of the sound that became the roaring of the spirit;
The splinters of the soul, like shoots of light
From that essential, first flame. We were shot into life and spiraled into natural dances
Carved into each stone and gape, flower, fruit and bone.
This dance is the sound of life’s geometry; it is the spiral of the heart’s breathing; the fluid nodes of the roots of lungs;
The silent notes of the earth’s core. Each being warbles with the heat of flame, which vibrates the tome of the body;
Shakes and breaks the seed of the stone. From it we are emerged, dewy and wet as an infant; as the soul breaks against the fingertips and the eyes;
Awakens from within the womb of the body.
Each being seeks and strives to remember; enticed by the outward apparition of gems. Each core of the eyes is a priceless secret,
A silken web to a great chain that descends far before the memory of time
Into the composition and recomposition of a song uncaptured by history,
Wriggling, writhing, and being born endlessly.
Chemicals and elements take in, catch, and release - all mortal bonds.
For their immortality is pregnant within them; exposed and wrought to light in the reaction of their inner vibratory cores;
The emergence of their secret, sacral, hidden inner essence -
As they are brought to the meeting of two distinct forms;
Within them, a third fire of reaction is born; transformed.

This crucible of the unbroken one, the merged two, and the sanctified fire of the third
Is the spiral and womb of all revolution; the shoot and flame and spire
Through which all heights of being are resurrected and climbed.
We, our endless song - is a match between the dark primordial silence of the sleep of the universe
And the roaring awakening of the chemical firelight of forms. We, consciousness, a mix of fires
Dropped into the cave and tomb of the sleeping body with the torch of awareness, which blakes and bleaks
Within eyes, arms, and cilial hairs. This sensation, feeling, is like the warm veins which lead to the return;
The heart of the core; the eyes which are plunged into the true fires of life;
Revealed to the essence of that which they truly are.

XX.

Men are leashed to the lie, enslaved, mining for the ore of the rocks of the sun, perennial psychic ingestion
Of chemical rock; nutriment to feed and feed; to sustain and survive, the disjected spark of the sun, feeding upon the green and red blood of life,
Perpetually shoveling ore and coal into the binding core until blinding liberation. Rise, and do not be born again, into the endless circle of death,
The horizontal plane of muted existence. Recollect the entirety of the nuclear core, the fusion of existence, the blinding essence -
Where all emerges; where all remains eternally one. Beyond all space and time, beyond all distance, is the present essence of eternity,
Eternally remembered and embodied in the shroud of form. Beneath the veil of time and appearances; beneath the opaque cover of the stone burns
The spark of the ore of the existence of the spaceless, timeless, the metabolism which is selfsame as the thermonuclear dawn of the universe and stars.
This hearth is a spark, a refractory, a field that blends and merges seamlessly with all other fields, in a ceaseless vibratory currency and framework
Of the energetic circulation of the power of stars down through each field of density; up to the blinding light of that which lies behind the sacral helioliacal core
What must be liberated is the spark of life hammered by the black metal smithy of the sun; forged into stone form and the angel of song hid beneath the appearance of the form, the realm of the sensate distance; the material apparition of illusion that eyes see and taste touch,
The penetrate field of fire which absolves and absorbs all forms into the essential fury of fire; the river and lake of flame
That is endlessly shapeshifting; the chemical world is absorbed and absolved again and again into the veil of wax; the veil of water; the veil of stone and gas
Into the pure heat and flame which is churned and bursts from the chemical box and core of the uncontainable, the brief life of time
Which is a bursting forth of a ceaseless energetic movement which cannot be held; that a flickering in time is a measurement of a fluid, waxing and waning figuration of flame
In a hearthen engine of universal power and force, forever giving and exchanging in measures

The ears and eyes and the nerve endings and the dew of the blood are a temporary measure through which the flame passes and is transmuted into forms of difference; thus measure temporarily, even as the fire of the core of the digestive warmth of the body lives, breathes, and escapes into endless measures of things. Endlessly, rippling and reverberating, boundless before the timekeeping dimension; the eyes which seek to retain and enclose; the sensate body which draws false bounds of the fluid field; remerge into the essential memory of the fire; the active embodiment of the first principle; all of the sensate generated fields and veils evaporated; revealed to be generative veils of the illusions of light play; beneath the play of light and shadow
The true, living essence of the flame and fire which ripples and moves across each and all scales of complex chemical reactions; forges of hypermaterial exchanges of energy; forges in the heat of the light of the sun; the ray of the body, through which we travel, ray of embodied light; thus greater even than the apparition of light, nor the smoke that escapes its wake,
The field of the electromagnetic exchanges of energy through currents of chemical reactions; explosions and inner heatings of the engine which generate the experience of life, the complex recombination of stars into densities of matter;
Forged and reforged in flames cooled in the wake of time; the distance of their explosive, expulsive force; the echoing rememory of stars within stars,
Their inner cores an unacknowledged distance in a world blinded by apparitions and veils, shadows, smoke, and ghosts of images projected outwardly
From the stars which illuminate the plane and field of the scales of being - wherein all life is revealed from within, the revelation of the outer blindness;
The inner sight of the eyes which are generated from the hearthen flame and core of the body -
The generative vision which is the unified force with the cosmic lifeblood; the nuclear energy and life which springs in whips of flame and rays of light from the core of life;
The star within the star which is the mouth of the universe,
The flame within a flame which is a distance in time between the opening and close of the scales of being; the diversifying and complexity of elements emerged from the forges of stars, each into a new passage, dispersion, distance, and density
Spiraling and verging outward from the crest of the wave of the creation of time
Nesting in the nest of perpetual rebirth; the resurrection of the light of the hearth of the flame over and over again from the clouds of dispersed ash which are the birth and death of all stars; the chemical elements which combine and recombine to light the spark of matter and being; the inner engine which purrs and hums;
The engine which is the grumbling and growling of the electric core of light;
The digestive crux between the changing of the forms within the flame; the production and consumption of different materials in which they are perpetually changed in the heat of life; the passage of the nutriments which heats and fuels,
The oxygen which heats the hot breath of stars, the bread of life which penetrates and propels like flint and the light of wood,
The hidden, opaque, impenetrable heat, the dormant energy
Of the depths of death, recombinated in clouds of ash like the sparks of petrol; the tar of dead vessels of meat and thrust into movement the all consuming and recombinative essence of the flame

The endless passage alighted in the law of nature; the law of life which is itself without meaning value name or word, but the endless reconsumption of the energetic fuel of the flesh of the earth and body of the celestial ore into endless new forms and productions; reactory materials forged time and time once more into descending essences, elements, and substances, all marked and pregnant with the memory of the first form of the core
Given and taken and given once more in the rising of the heat and light of thermal life from the depths of dark and the sleeping abeyance of space and form
In all organisms and life forms which are a nesting mimicry and embodied perpetual essence of the eternal force and form of the pure fires and hearth of life,
Each measured in a breath between absence and presence, the vibrating frequency and the waiting space of emptiness
Received in fields of the heat of stars in the space between two hearthen reverberations; the field of electromagnetic current and frequency which is their reach and the distance of the field of their song interpenetrating; in the silent essence of the world of being before time and the life of the heat
A field of true silence
Interrelation upon interrelation of new substance; their magnetism and gravitational fields; the essence of their chemical pull and recombination through metals and forces; flues and organisms, the electrical power and capacity of their digestive light and life, the quality of the core of their burning star,
The fabric of their terraforming nutrification; the expulsion of their scat and ash and elemental production; the consumption of their breath,
The anus and mouth of the core of the universe is a light of silence;
A heat of bursting through which forms are passed in a recombinative complexity; a reunion in their tumbling gaze and figural core the churning of the light which birthed them and forevermore remembers them and is remembered through them,
Their eternal essence of being; that which they embody, move, scatter, recollect, and reborn
The rising of the thermal nucleo-ecstatic core which is the illusion of all form, the existence of all being,
The core and hearth of all life; all being itself. Rise from this flame, embody and experience the essence which is the electric form and thought of the imagination and eyes, the thoughtlessness of silence; the presence of the churning enginic fury toward which all dead things remember their perpetual signature of life and are lit through the flint of ashes through the flinging flue of the spiraling awakening - unto and toward the core of the sun, which is the core of all suns -
The peak of matured life, the rise of the dying star to the height of the sine, the summer of all life - the electric, melting proto-unity of all forms and substances in their formless ecstatic reverberation, where all life is melted, smelted together in the unified field of being, where all material forms dissolve in the channel and heated boil and state change into the fluid dance and gaseous fury in the expulsive propellation of the engine of the star of all stars,
Birth of the universe eternally remembered in the heat of each nesting being,
Brought into flickering co-reaction by the eternal remembering of forms of all foreign density and sleeping eyes of matter, chemicals reintroduced to ceaseless new grounds and co-participant in the sentient awakening of all matter and mass into the recollection of the height of the stars of being - the true weightless ascension of mind encountering the proto-material of the stars in the embodied self realization
Of the eternal field of all being present and pregnant within the sleeping matter of form, a chain of awakening through which all beings and forms co-participate as in the striking of a match in a forest field, the alighting and awakening of awareness within the field of sleeping -
From the worlds of the slow churning densities of days and nights and fields of earth and clay into the wickering wax; the revelation of the burning; the heats of cosmic time which spiral and whip rapidly into the central cores of suns; alight and charged and racing with deep force into the awakening which is the shattering of all forms, the dissolution of all densities in the shattering burst of life

XXI.

Sturm und Drang: The Fire and The Smoke And Flame of The Primordial Overturning Of Man

The importance of the aesthetic movement and unfolding of the principles of ‘sturm und drang’, or storm and turmoil, or storm and tumult - is that it is the aesthetic movement that unites the fundamental, subterranean, proto-chemical movement of humanity at the level of the reactive, metabolic, time-and-space-contained-and-bound overturning of the human life, body, and form undergoing the principles of entropic energetic foment and release throughout the lifespan - with the aesthetic concerns of art, artmaking, and the expression of the full scales of emotion, feeling, and dramatic fervor of life incarnate.

Here, the principle interconnection with life and art is a thermodynamic one, or the burning and flickering of the wick and flame of the human life and soul before the vast terrain of the spirit; the experience, embodied at a microcosm of the metabolic furnace of human life, energy, and the whisp of sensation that emerges from the womb of the thermal processing unit of the body, soul, form - the immediate experience of the fire and the engine that unites the human corporeal form, furnace, and forge with the stellar, thermonuclear cores of stars; the explosive force of the Big Bang itself. This principle is then teleologically expanded into the process of revolutionary art as overturning - as a full expression of emotional cognizance and dissonance as portrayed in the full scales of agony and ecstasy, darkness and light.
Thus, true ‘Sturm und Drang’ artists include the young Goethe just as much as they include Goya, Caravaggio, the late Beethoven; works of consonance and assonance which stretch the canvas of mastery into realms of deep, profound, illuminative contrast. The idea here, much like the idea of Rasa in the Hindu tradition, is that emotion, or tumult, or upheaval, is the context for and of the experience of the self as in movement, or the primary progenitor of force; essence; the nature of being at the level of bio-chemical becoming; the release of hormones, endorphins; thrust that propels the being at work; the force at work into action, movement, passage.

Therein, there is a unifying perception, contextualized at the time of the emergence of sturm und drang, as emotional turmoil and expression as being primary; a prizing of the subjective realm; a turn inward toward the volatile candle and wick of life; away from the coldness of neoclassical values; the stone of form. This turn is at fundament and root, always already a necessarily revolutionary turn - as it is a revolt toward the heart and hearth of life; away from mechanisms of tradition, law, rule of law, and structure, which delineate and cage and bound the heat in the form.

This is always, at root, the true binary of life at the level of the synaptic, chemical, and thermodynamic - the movement and circulation of heat, energy, power, and force in fields of pseudo-closed systems, or systems where heat and light is contained and produced, and yet always ‘out-shines’ the true bounds of the form; bleeds into the canvas of eternity. This is the steam and smoke of the sweat of the organic body at work, just as it is the die of the sun bleeding rays and flares of radiating thermonuclear power into the celestial spheres - which gain sufficient cooling distance as to be resituated, digested; made nutrific by plants, animals; organic life-matter on earth. This movement is a movement of incredible force, or ‘fury’ or ‘passion’, cooled with necessary time and space so as to settle contently as in a warm day - or with a slight, hemispheric turn - a height of summer, or a depth of winter. This distance from the hearth is then, accordingly, the fury of the power of the warmth which overwhelms as in a ‘qualified intensity’ - (whether it be the wrath of anger, the fear of hatred, or the consumptive power of lust and love) - just as it would be the coldness of emptiness, irrecognition; the whimpering tinder of a fire long since soothed by cold, rain, or wind.

This metabolic condition of man, just as it is in a thermonuclear, stellar condition - is a wavering condition of perennial flux; thus, far better and well suited to the externalization of sturm und drang as an aesthetic movement primarily based around the representation of man’s true inner nature; the perennial condition of the hearth of the life mimicked in the smoke and representation of art - or that which the expression casts into the realm of light and shadows; the reverberations and frequencies and symphonies of music, or the symbolic light of characters of word and form dancing upon the page. For if art is to capture life, sturm und drang as a perennial revolutionary movement, delimited from the historical context from whence it emerges, is the true revolution of the emergence of art into life in a truly bound teleological sense - a logical extension of the true thermodynamic, volatile conditions of the passage of energetic forms into and out of existence bound by the clock of time; the passage of infinity through the river of the body with temporal bounds, laws, rules, and limitations; the struggle of the expression of this heat and flame - one stoked by the visible, physical limitations of the form and matter of mind through which it is constructed.

Thus, as is visible with the late Beethoven, the constraints of the form itself when compelled under the pressure of the elucidation of life through and across time are overwhelmed by way of the principle form of the emergence of the emotion, the true hot and fiery breadths and widths which are emerged directly from the guttural tunnel of the heat and stomach and are expelled through the breath and anus. It is this primary forge and wind of heat and breath which is the unity which works the organs; strikes at the iron of life and animates the body as a procedure of deep chemical, elemental evolution of biological organic forms, with sensory neurology which take in and expel impressions and expressions of life. It is a filter, a flue, a way of perceiving - as nutrific or malefic forms and influences, tastes and viruses, realizations, and inhumanities are processed and digested, or held at the level of the throat, as in the poisons of the ocean of the world which the Lord Shiva in the Hindu scriptures holds at the level of the transmutation of his expression. He does not take in, truly, these vile forms, these forms of death of the inspiration of life - the insipid forms which would make the heat of his breath of life - a fire mildewed or swamp, but rather he transmutes them at the level of the warbling; at the level of the song.

This metaphor gets us a little closer to the heart of sturm und drang as a method of processing existence; as a path toward the elevation of the human soul and spirit in the midst of the facets of life which function as chains, stones, grounds, and gravities - the forces which pull the human soul and spirit - even in the midst of the rising of the pyre of the light of the human spirit toward transcendental ecstasies - deep into the dark pits of foreboding, taunting, black hole mass of the pre-evolutionary histories of man; the violet forces which transpire and transgress to rape, murder, and acquire the dawning light and capacities of the burgeoning, flowering art of beauty. It is the push and pull, it is the tug of war of these forces which itself transcribes the die and the flux and the fluttering of the infinite between two great poles - that of life and death, love and hatred, absence and presence; birth and death at the level of the universal and of the personal and the particular. For it is that the form of the fire at the level of the cosmological and transcendental which well elucidates these principles twofold - the hearth of the fire which is the light of life, in which forms dance and flicker in and out of form and formlessness - as if in a storm or perennial flux; furthermore, the absence or the dying of the flame, which is the aging of stars or of organic life forms; thus the entropy and decay of the form which held and expressed the light; steamed and ate among other such forms of life, the manna, or the thermonuclear bread, which is passed among all intergalactic forms and turnings. This very principle of the immediate and direct encounter of life is mimicked in the breach and broach of the aesthetic - the contrast, essence, and movements; interplay of light and shadow - or in the visual sense, presence and absence; in the sonic, silence and noise.

It is to these essential, binaric tensions that we are tugged and pulled, pooled; oscillating between these beacons and pillars which can be most greatly and divinely summed as the principles of life and death - the decontinuity; discontinuance, the extinguishment of metabolic forms, the silence of reactions and interactions; the zero hertz state of the utter ceasing of interdimensional interplays of states of existence; frequencies and rays of vibrational qualities of beings and bodies in space — together with the utter symphonies of life and forms in various states of accruance of metabolic and electromagnetic currencies of body and fires of form; the discharge of these forces into the field of time and space; the bleeding together and intermingling and co-mingling of these forces across perceived dimensional lines of fields and forms. This bleeding together, or essential cosmic unity of the hearth of life across specieal bounds and bounds of stars is that storm-like volatility of feeling of the rising and falling of crests and waves of life, lives of sine as they oscillate toward and away from the great thermonuclear core of the essence of being - in the springs of their arising; the summers of their great and deep power and self assertion of gravity, force, and form; the falling away and remergence of their autumns and winters - their phase of utter reunity with the cloud of continuity of waiting midnight toward which they are birthed again as star-forms. This essential overturning; churning of the endless recycling of life forms and death forms is the war of utter and utmost metaphysical gravity - the backdrop of this essential feeling of sturm und drang as a cosmic, metaphysical reality - carved immediately and directly into the nexus of life and art itself.

This turmoil is the churning of the cosmic ocean from which the poison which threatens to overwhelm the world that Lord Shiva drinks - it is the poison of the long forgotten dead; it is the deep emotion which is sprung at the fear of the unknown, the fear of the overwhelming; the ensconcement and reproach of the black night in the face of the assertion of the young star toward the front and face of being - it is amidst the declarative statement of the individual that simultaneously the primordial fear of nonexistence overwhelms him. This violent confrontation with the thirteenth hour of winter’s night amidst the emergence of spring’s day is the passage declared in Goethe’s ‘Sorrows’, just as it is the primary crisis and threat of all powers earthly and celestial that their assertion of force is within a far greater context; far more comprehensive than any such consciousness could comprehend as a singular entity; is dictated by far deeper cosmic forces; impelled and called, much as this solar system is called, toward a far greater gravity than even the thermonuclear light and heat of the sun that calls these planetary bodies therein forth; gives the earth light, dictates. It is the being overwhelmed, principally, by even greater and vaster powers which is the overwhelming state and condition of the emotion. For this is the purpose emotion serves - it is an interlocution, through the vested, universal powers of the hearth of the soul as an individuated capacity of the cosmic, spiritual, thermonuclear essence of existence and being itself, an invocation of the inviolate powers which reside at the depths of the being and stir it into action, movement; from the still of being into the uncertainty of transformation; change; the crossroads of space and time through and from which it leaps. For it is pulled by the powers of time, which are no more than the encircling forces of gravitation and the powers and forces which wear upon it; produce ‘momentousness’; it is from this balcony that life leaps into the unknown and unknowing - by way of the emergence of the emotion which stirs it.

To further elucidate the quality of emotion - it is the resident truth in and of the being, as a natural extension of the feeling which is the sensation that it gives and receives in the neurological sensorium of its senses; sensory reality. Thus life is perennially colored by neuro-chemical contacts of and by varying pleasing and displeasing forces, elements, and interlocutions; digestions and touches; it is in these shades that the character of the individual, or organism is revealed. At certain things, aspects, shades, frequencies, clothes, vibrations - it is reviled; at and to others, it beckons with a curiosity, or a hunger, or a magnetism. Such ways of existence betray the inner, underlying thermodynamic, electromagnetic, nutrific qualities of the being-body before the cosmos; the network of the universe. Much as a hot stove is too hot for a young child, the wearing quality of a Mediterranean sun on the skin of an unsuited foreigner, or the unattractive kisses of a would be lover - are chemical qualities of aversion; disposition - that are built up and through the genetic and cultural constitution of each individual and organism that populates the earth.

Therein, emotion is in fact an elucidation of simultaneously the universal quality which overwhelms all beings and forms and shades that inhabit this neuro-chemical nesting effect of the thermonuclear processes down through metabolism and respiration - it is a way of or form of movement which is a stirring which is the primary affect of the experience of life, or the feeling of life as it moves through the incarnate body or the electromagnetic vessel of the form. In this way, such as a weeping willow has a certain feeling or emotion captured through the eye, it has an innate way of being, or way of living, which it manifests, incarnates - both in form and in field. These energetic forces; their population and fire and magnetism and power - as they exist in space and time - are a vitalizing energy and force, and this vitale is nowhere best captured than the artist who has channeled the aesthetic qualities of sturm und drang to the root of essential contrast in his work. Such an artist is an essential master - meaning that he has confronted and within himself become an alembic for the full straits of life and death, their full potential, capacity, and intermingling for forms, hues, tunes, grays, whites, and lights; just as he has submerged himself in the oceans of their dark, murky, tarry. blacks; that he has within himself integrated their full capacities of chaos and resurgence; lawlessness and the unity of order, and found their expression through the essential journey to and through the depths of hell into the union of and with the primordial paradise - or the total absence of life; the unity with the thermonuclear Godhead; the source and essence of all life; the universe through which all forms are nesting within the primary force and formless form. As such, in a literary sense, Dante’s road is perhaps better a map to the road and psyche of sturm und drang than all others, while simultaneously holding the restraint and code of medieval form, through which the wilderness of life is drove; the depths are assembled in all of their treachery and malice; from the journey to the depths the poet appercepts in the rising of the light of his soul the eternity of the empyrean - or the highest heaven of eternal mergence; submergence of all forms; from whence all forms and lights emerge and play in various different states of transmutation; alchemies of metals and elements; chemicals with electromagnetic qualities; linguistic alphabets and codices of genetics.

It is that emotion, at the most fundamental level, is a stirring that can be described as basically chemical; in this chemical stirring a gear in the great celestial machine of life is turned and churned; the existent order of its alphabet is shifted, shorn, and thrown into chaos. That we say the stars are burning is that one day they will be overthrown; this burning of the cosmic order is an essential passion which is the perennial threat of the chaos of the fury of life to overwhelm the existing cosmic order - which is dependent on the rote assertion of forms, fields, and forces in their lockstep of regularity, just as earthly law. But this, then, is the great law of heaven - that emotion, passion, and the burning of great thermonuclear, stellar forms which burst from their cages in a passionate death - are themselves that lawless law of the heat of life from which all other apparitions of law spring. It is this explosion; explosive force from which all forms temporarily exist and assemble, only to be swept and slept away by the irradiant dreaming of the heat of life which endlessly; miraculously, elementally assembles with perennial distance from the first form of the universal thermonuclear explosion, new young stars of difference from the clouds of ash of the dead. It is this force of creation at the breach of life and death which is the welling of the emotion; the burning and the bridge between the smoke and fire of the soul; the spirit of the stars which endlessly reclaim the breath of the life of man into unknown, strange resurrection.

XXII.

We within us have a woman screaming
Who birthed the world in feeling function.
Her pain and tears begotten sop the grounds of the soil -
Her body of ceaseless transformation. Endless, she births and overturns,
Rocky crags and things with tails, to protect the inner digestion. Layer upon layer,
Life upon life, rain upon rain, Her body is laid and admixed;
She is wrought into and out of form, from river to mud to clay.
Her touch extends from the far black fields of the star
To the narrows of earth’s gravity;
The plants and worms, insects and births
Which endlessly recycle her black soul.

Her feeling is a far, impenetrable extension;
It is the air breathed by all life forms; it is the flesh that they eat, wear, and ceaselessly consume. It is the fire of their blood; the land from which they pick and grow their blue and green energetic roots. Each being touches this living force within them;
It is the cry of joy, pain, ecstasy, loving;
The unique signature and temperature of incarnate being.
She is a field through which life is a reverberating, vibrating song; her suffering is the violent tearing at the veil through which pain is a mute touching, a mute breathing.
Her presence is ineffable, ephemeral,
Ever-present.

This woman within is Nature herself; the violence done to her is the violence done to the body. It is the lashings of the senses; the ignorance of the neurology;
The inflicting of pain and violence upon the body of the earth;
All of the life that ripples across it, through it, and within it -
Truly a boundless network of feeling - which itself sends electromagnetic signals throughout; sings, screams, and whispers
The entire web of being.
All beings are touched by this web of song, as it is that very force of life;
The field that ripples through them and within them,
Truly without beginning or end, bound or border.
All beings endlessly consume and produce the thread of life upon which all life rides
Like a ceaseless current of flowing energy.

She does not begin nor end at any one’s bounds of senses;
She is most ever present in the fluid field of dreams, where beings shapeshift
Into boundless, changing entities. She is the touch at the horizon of the exchange between night and day; the unity between the lovers of life and death,
Subjective, sensate bounds
And oblivion.

It is this field through which all beings of life are perpetually interconnected;
It is this field which they truly are.
It is thus that all beings are not rather individuals,
But an entire web of the great body and force of life,
Through which the sense of being and living is purely and simply
The softness of touch; the safety of feeling.

XXIII.

Hammers and blows are wrought at the forge of the metabolic flesh
Working, forging at the axis of form and formlessness, at and upon the furnace of the flame,
Wrought ancient elemental, helium, hydrogen; the descending clash of forms;
Their elemental signatures; their chemical numbers
Present, sending signals, symbols, and sigils upward to the flesh of the face;
The outward bodice of the skin. We are indicative of life; indicators of the truth which lies beneath the opaque and obscured world; the light work of separate entities; the play of shadow and symphony - The metal hammer of the digestive function; clanging,
Angelic sculptor at stone
The funneling, spiraling engine of bloody power against the raw matter of nutrients, burning, breating, eating with a deep hunger, a primordial fusion
Grinding with fiery teeth and jaw, the green matter which is a mineral memory of the sun
All imprinted rays encircling the raised crown of life from the dirt; the soily doorway of death, the sun of descendancy forever returned into the widowing grandmother of death,
The primordial mechanism of separation and reunification upon the sacrificial cold stone; the ray of the light of blood which is raised from the flesh;
Flies toward first form
Fecal, fetal, smeared upon and across the face of the earth - the scat of the earthy stone whose ground is the additive layers of death and spring, transmogrified.
We await the templar essence which expounds from us; we await the life that springs from us,
Like a black panther whose blood is obscured by the color of night
Within the brush of flame

For we are a furnace within furnace within furnace; the hot breath of the core of the earth heals our swells, with spiky dandelion root for the inflamed, writhing soul
Whose coil is like an agitated snake, whose gout is like a body whose rhythm has burst,
Whose compression has beat against the bounds of a spirit whose ecstasy seeks to perennially expand
Beyond the hold that keeps and nurtures it, the root of its body of the flame:
Boorish tinctures of chemical quality and rhythmic recombination upon the tongue and within the flute
To soothe and reconstitute balance - a homeostasis of true natural unity;
A paradox, flowing channeling of the wild mind into a seamless melting of the within and the without - the wind of silence which hushes the breath; the still air which soothes the wild throat; the tempestual screaming and wrestling of the fire with the mud of the earth
Upon which it climbs; through which it tumbles; toward the star-right which it ascends.
A breathing which submerges the sensual mind into a simultaneity of nothing and eternal oneness,
A breathing which is a cloud of the elemental fury; at each breath, a recombinative death which recollects in the starry smoke and ash,
The new chemical life amidst extinguishing.

The forge beckons and bellows - remember the fire; move with the fire. It calls with the essence of true life, unreposed, unnamed, unnumbered:
Chemicals that poison the blood and soothe ripple beneath the field of mind
Droplets which comingle with the entropic life of the stars, handed
Hand upon hand
Into the red flowers which crest and waver, their breasts, faces, and chests
Bloom, open and extended towards the sun. Tentacles of radiate rays, feeling outwardly
Themselves the sensory eyelet of life
Resorbed into infinity is the boar totally among and upon the black plains.
Resorbed into infinity is the body in movement, the throat of the shoot of green blood
Entangled with the bright chanting of the veins of herbal leaves
Pulsing with the shoots of reverberating life
Shot forth in the force of chemical flame.
What was once green is now blue; what was once black is now red;
Through fire, all things gain their appearances.

Yet this flame is blue and light, in truth like a dawning young electricity.
Spritely, is the nerve of the vein which like a phantom limb raises the earth in perpetual, entirety of unity
From this life is the apparition
That in the sheer force of breath births generations; resolves binaristic crises in a destruction that is the creation and resurrection of the body as reverberating currents
In the black soil of cosmic death; in the graveyard clouds of abyssal fragmentation
Sparked by magnetism; the call of connection and chemical synthesis. It opens and shuts like the dawn and dusk eye of the universal fire which winks in a single deep breath;
Pulsation within pulsation, alights and extinguishes a chemical symphony of reactory cherry fireworkings.
Even the smallest objects achieve a dark gravity
Called not only by the face of form, but that singing quality which the face truly represents; the historical descent of ancient blood
Down through the rungs of cooling distance and time.

We are degrees from the scalding flame; the first fury
Which is the passion and the life which singes rhythmic breath of time to immanent dust in an eternal moment:
The flash and the fury which, in a moving and shifting of light images reduces the bright pulse of the first stirring of the infinite coat to the pure expanse of drifting death - a cosmic night from wavelengths of bursting light.
Hours are our eyes which tick as the ground beneath them heaves, like a pulsing beneath the soil of the bright, dripping iron ore of magmic flesh, which seethes, dissolves. Here we are from the source, a perennial streaming, unbroken
The nuclearity of the body reactory - the closeness of the passion which is the hotness in time in which the body toes, rhythmic, like a wave, sizzling, breaking crackling
To cool sleep and blazing rising; cresting life. Must we flow into each other intimately
Until the illusion of our sensual separation is dissolved -
Then this is no infinity,
Only a brief learning;
A nuanced destiny - a clashing of harbored cores; the breaking of their yolk into a cellular unity,
A full rememory of ancient suns.

Fires clash from the wood of the flesh which sustains them; the fruit in which their seed is a vibratory potentiality. They shake and gyrate and gestate like magnets flying toward a hidden pole
A core reached and pulled taut by layers of historical memory, sediment of dirt and body anchored gravity; lingering, decompositional plains;
Grounds of ash, charnel houses and smashans -
Souls which long to achieve the heights of absolute cosmic unity with the nuclear power of the life and light of suns. Strive and rise; fall and break upon the breast of the bone of the earth; scatter and rehearse destiny; A thermal ecstasy which peels away the delusion of separate body; airy fronts of heat and density, coldness and pressure - a body isolated in a tempestual hurricane of the comings and goings of desire -
A body unified in the arrowic ray of light which carves through the night in a revelatory quietude -
A driving which is the penetrative truth through the apparitions of form
Into the true body of thermonuclear ecstasy.
May we penetrate into this true body and be reunified with the ecstasy of existence beyond desire, into the true force of the drive which propels all forces, forms, and beings into existence;
Is their prime mover.

For we are apparitions, skeletons, caskets of the flame, mute unrecognized; unrecognizable
Until we awaken unto the true nature of the furnace which extends through us and within us and unto the absolute blue roots of the earth which are a melting prism of fire; breaking into the infinite core of being revelry
A churning, crushing weight which absolute, absolves all forms of their weight;
Is the guttural, red damage; the plume of the destroyer which sends whisps of smoke that slashes at the heart of illusion
Ghosts of the smoke of death which form our sacred images and symbols of eyes
Up from the hearth of the life of the churning fire - this we know as light; beneath it, the truth of the touch of heat, the casting
Glittering, glimmering rays, which catch our eyes in the wavelengths of the blinding sun,
Rendered witness yet deluse,
For our eyes perceive a world diamondine, a screen of binding objects and forms which is in truth a heat of touch through which no thing can be obtained, but truly reunified in the intercourse with the true nature of the hearth of the body
Which is the hearth of all bodies on all scales of life,
Beyond light; into eternal unity and snaking of life through all measures and cores and apparitions of forms;
Into the transmutative fusive fire of heat.
We are passions which consume each sacrament of fruit, each layer of the lyre and flute of dust; the glittering ash of life impregnated into the radiate ray of light
Which feeds and robusts the plump form of the blood which is taken into our blood
In an endless, deepening, spiralic, cyclical motion
Boring deeper and deeper into the ecstatic death dance of the soul,
A death dance which is a sexual reunity;
A combustion into holistic eternity

Insect and bird, whose molars pound and energize the soil; wormy cells who respire and heat in their eating of the mud and dirt through which the stalk of life arises: rapiers,
Excremental sifters in the smashan pyre of the dead; the mud of awakening stalks of eyes
The smokeless ash of the finished fire; the driftwood of the starless nights
Of cloudy, wandering soul, this wonder
Each of us holds a star of the night of life in the measure of the body which keeps it;
Beats it into a rhythmic flow, a transmission of the blood of life through the sexual unknown which is a continuance, a perpetuation; a birth in the narrowings of death
Of the flow of the form of the blood of the being into deepening containers which expand and bone; form and sinew
The passage of the goblet of the passionate star through the renewed form of life of youth,
Selfsame as the seed which flies from the fruiting and flowering of crown of the dandelion whose sine reaches toward the source of life; young, raging star
Flies and impregnates the soil of the dirt;
Hides in the earthen womb; ripens the bursting stem;
Remembers the fruiting fluid; takes upon itself water, mineral, and the radiate life of the light.
Each of us grips the rung of ecstasy and stands upon the ladder of life as if to fling ourselves like a ballet into the abyss of darkness. Each star sums and spirals an impossible sum, as it is we are unending, given and taken in a breath to ecstastic, unknown distances. Hummed and transported into bright new grounds, which hand or lung is now a bird or a river of oil, a chirping bug of light or an isle of sand, where creeping pincers resemble deep, condensing lands of stone. To break open; to take unto oneself the mineral of light;
Reanimate in the transformative mixture, the deep blue flame
Which burns as perpetual creation. That this hunger is native is that it is true beyond words; beyond concepts; beyond speech.
Its prime function is no less than the overturning of the universal essence, from which all atomic matter flung, split, dissolved, and reunified
In an endless, ageless, streamless flow. We who achieve distances and in caves of this bright march of time
Dance around suns unseen; within us birth this sun, of which we are so forgetful.
From within us streams the truth of the essence of life;
Which we intertwine and solidify, even as we are spiritualized
Becoming one with the essence of infinity; Nature eternal.

This, being the last vision of humanity, with all else stripped away
Is a glittering, sparkling diamond, a ray cast by light;
A dream; an illusion -
That all of life is a burning that sustains the ganglion by which the earth climbs as a singular body;
Surmounts and swallows the rays of the sun of its own self possession.

We, mute cannibalisms, a language that swallows its own mouth; a tribal march into the moment of blood
Terror and ecstasy,
Entwined bedfellows.

All of earth is pushed and pulled, a desperation about a spiraling, an already consumed futurity, a carnal ride to the final ecstasy, a dance which is a presumptive horizon,
Upon the cliff of a black ballet.
Eyes search wanderingly on an endless pilgrimage. Lives spin in the casket theatre of the everyday. Worlds worm their ways into and out of existence.
We are blinking like a synapse, a morse code, a light which flickers, a light which is a metabolic heat alone.
We are a moored lighthouse amid an ocean dungeon,
Dragged and spun and dug by the current waves of time
Which are no more than the curtains of luminary bodies
Lingering, harrowing in the breeze;
Beckoning with the sheer force of stanced being.

This madness of the burning is a ceaseless triumph of meaninglessness,
A guttural stomp which seizes the hearts and minds of sentient beings in a perpetual state of frozen terror,
Of fear of lashings, of the tidal wave of untethering.
Spirits wander and are pulled into the bright base of the mind,
Wither and crack in their casks and barrels of forms
Like a lightning wine, writhing with neural energy amidst cold, cool, dark forms which contain them.
We are that - currents within constrained wires, wondering projectories of light; fleshes of heat, flashes of fury
Tightly coiled within the basin of the spine;
Arrayed within a stony tomb.
Let us lash with tails the wick of the candle which moors us to this wavering bright spot.
This animal form is a cross upon the isles of chaos and destruction,
Maintained order suspended upon the tightrope of interplanetary spin.
Balanced upon a black plate of levitational space
We are supported by the mutual assurance of faith;
Haunted by the black current of chaos;
The undertow of dreams.

As prisoners go mad in sight for sun,
We are the haunted, lonely ones - who seek for freedom like a drunk seeks for the golden wine which will be release for spirit. Emotions seethe in a perpetual state of linguistic repression for what genius timely reveals.
The laval current which presses up the oceans of blood and spills like steam across the hairy back of the haunched animal.
We are a nature that writhes, sputters, and dies - like the suffering of an insect
Or the wandering of a cellular brain.
These lines that we pull over the earth’s electricity are lines that leash the beast of fury to the ground
As it smokes and stomps pregnant hoof. We stand so close to death that we are mated to a union of invisibility,
A realm that is unseen and yet exerts deep power.
This is the realm of spiritude; like marionettes, we are exerted from it;
Exalt the dance of death masqueraded as mating.
All are absolved in the release from singular form,
As the nature of the soul is released in breath.

All of time has been this, wandering in the hot sun,
Like stars pulled to the gallery of witnessing,
Chained to orbits, feeding off the bright density of heat;
All the while haunted by the true density of the horizon of death;
The tip of the knife of blood upon which we all linger;
Records the coil of the encircling, encroaching swallow
Like a throat upon the inner heart of the trees.
All down within us we are a drop into an infinite abyss; an unknowing
Which extends far beyond the bright spark of the synapses which betray the limits of our sensorium.
The world is encroached upon us by the black panther of death
Whose hot lips; piercing teeth are a breath upon the neck of reason; a blackness upon the heart of the sun.
We burn and through a passage we are utterly ulterior;
Through this looking glass of water, chromatic plasma
We are an unrecognizable demon shadow.

Haunted by the ghost of an unrecognizable death
We burn the hot breath of the earth in a smoke to feed the fury of a reckless careening life
Which flashes like a star in the shores of black space
Shooting towards an unknown demise.
All the masks of the world masquerade as transformation;
As a grotesque contortion; as a shifting in the haze of time,
Uncaptured, unreflected, unlonging - towards no object and no end.
We are a shifting image in a mirror which betrays the heat and source of life for light;
An eye which exists in a state of primordial delusion. We burn from within and ascribe nature to the burning
As emotion to a flame.
This dial upon which we sit spins and ignites the ashes of the funereal pyre of the body from which we burn;
We leap up and bite ourselves in the heat of excitement
Or the rapidity of terror. This oscillating pulse is our time;
This haze of recombination is the status of our mind.
Again and again we pass through the veil of the throat and intestines;
We are shifted by the sex of our food;
The intercourse of our breathing.

In this nature we are like a wind, a smoke, a ghost,
A nothingness which is but a burning. All character is sustenance of the flame, as only a jaguar feasts upon blood,
Or clothes. This betrayal, this lie, this self deception
Is what casts the shadow of our figuration. Our very emptiness haunts us from beyond the veil of this world.
For if it were to be revealed that our ultimate layer was this densest black overcoat, that we circle and chant across and about the totem of the object of true death which draws us down and within
This world would disappear as the very apparition which it is,
A sustained system of mutual belief.
For in truth we are not; amidst and amongst the symbols and codex of our living
We are but a letter and a word, like a bird or a sieve. We are evocative of a far deeper, more carnal force,
Which breathes and heaves; squeezes us down the fallopian tube of its darkening excrement;
We are a condensation of ancient matter
Matriculated down through the dial of death,
Through a lightning’s spark
Which has given us the vision of time.

Through this orb; through this guttural tunnel
We have dreamed a dream of life, a dark and perilous dream of the fanning of the flames of self ecstasy,
A dervish turning and turning about the phantom of delight
Until life collapses into rubbles; in ruin is called to the last attractor.
Even death subsumes the ultimate carnality of sex; the collision of forms through out a third writhes;
In these beings we are stretched from hands and feed
Rippling from light and darkness into a shadow of entropy,
An eclipse over the earthen body.
This temporality of the light and sun,
The heat and basking reptilian blood,
The brain that soaks and fats and passes the skeletal chain of genital flood,
The genetic book of the word which escapes through the narrow tunnel of the womb -
We are records and witnesses to the fleeting, flitting, bird’s flight across the knife of this dimension, trailing the inky storm of blood which is the sleeping oil’s word in the depths and bowels of the darkness of this world’s wood.
We trial, kissed with life upon the lips of the opening and closing of the winking eye of this universe, this time that seeps and seeks one eternal question
And swallows what is known and can be known within these terms forevermore.
And this is our haunting, the temporality of language,
The solidity of these forms, upon these terms,
The deathbed of these laws;
The subsumption of this game under its ultimate return -
The throwing of the die of life into this world by a truly lawless substance;
The loss of the sustenance of true law.

Only the blood sustains as a memory and record of the sun. We must flock and flee to the great and eternal summer which is an internal generation,
A nutrific motor and engine which heats and sustains, a primordial energy and record of the emergence of the first self and star.
All life escarps to the plane of total, immortal, immaterial ecstasy.
We cling to laws and walls of time which themselves corrode;
Ruins of empires and rotted trees; corroded apples of the fruit of time
Which we grasp, bite, and sour in the tongues of our mouths;
Spit out from us like language;
Ferment in the barrels and tunnels of the stomachs of our wombs. We, upon the vine
Are fed the bright blue juice of electrical energy
Siphoned from the primordial resonator of the stellar body and engine.
This heat that is passed to and from us is the one true delimiter of existence;
It is in fact the all encompassing total body of the cosmic being. We stand within the tunnel of being drawn, the blood that is swallows singing upon the massive force and tomb of gravity;
It is the blood which sings and rises from the tomb;
Crawls from the sinking bowl into immortal, eternal rising.
For as there is song, all is not lost;
All is gained and returned in the rising of the sun.

It is this war that we are, a power, an interiority,
From which images and mirrors escape; from which hammers and clangings escape and resound,
A forge that we are and an eternal memory of the fusive smithy of stars
From which and within we are and work,
The sweat of the hammer of the till of the earth;
The rhythm of the body and the blood of the red drum against the fertile yellow fields of grain and the cilia and flesh of hair of the body of earth;
The toil that we take that is shorn and shorn again and remade in the shadow and shade of the wound and womb
Which is a perpetual, perennial, taking and giving
An intercourse of lightness and shadow, of darkness and death
Of living and breathing, a pickaxe which siphons signatures of sound from vibratorial bodies; transmogrifies language and speech across axes and dimensions of cosmic endeavor
To and from bodices, bodies, and forms in a perpetual self sacrificial rhythm of true self unity
Across all planes, spheres, and dimensions
Beyond all concept of space and time.
This primordial unity is the rhythm that is the outstretched hand, the nerve, the cord, the womb, the synapse, the string
Which plays about worlds seen and unseen;
Is the lifeblood which drips even into the realm of death, shade, and shadow;
Is a bright changing which at last emerges
Entirely understood

A FINAL DIAGNOSTIC OF HUMANITY

‘A book not for the faint of heart’

ONE

I.

The spiritual condition of humanity is emptiness. This emptiness of this spirit is the drag of modern times, the drag of history; the drag of gravity from and endless, unknown past into an equally endless, unknown futurity. The condition of the average man is trapped between this gulf of time.

Therein, all that remains is desire, and to fuel the hearth of life. And there are endless distractions to make this so. Metabolic overload, sex carnivals, libidinal functions which attract eyes and minds by way of attractive sloganeering. It is, first and foremost, as in the condition of the universe itself, a game of diversity, a hall of mirrors and twisting masks - all of which beneath behold the same fundamental emptiness. And yet, these images retrovert themselves into the pure emotional state of beholding the abyss.

II.

Retroversion of the spirit is the turning back within and against the tide of time in the attempt to identify that which is truly good, worthful, worthy; thus, real. The attempt to discern the real is delineated in layers and gates, as in the family good, the family real, the tribal good and the tribal real; the historical cultural good and real; the moral and religious real; compounded into the personal presumption of the good and real. This is the gate that stems the tide and wave of the primordial violence which emerges naturally from man; a human hunger for meat, blood, action, and violence which is endlessly rectified and reflected in its obsessions with sport, spectacle, sex, and war.

All of this lashing and thrashing is the masochistic impulse in the face of emptiness. Men themselves are trapped by time in the condition of this continual encounter which is the not-assimilated abyssal reflection of self. In the other, and through the other, perpetual subliminal violence is inflicted - vis-a-vis language, hunger, and the condition of lashing out to obtain the nutriment which will heal the injurious psyche.

This condition of psychic injury is fundamental to the condition of man. For it is clear in nature that man’s state and status, as it has been elucidated in multiple ancient religious and spiritual texts as a state and status of ‘fallenness’ - that is, into the river and wave of the becoming state of time - requires that man’s body must be sustained metabolically and regularly excreted cellularly in order to sustain a state of good health.

III.

This is at the crux of mankind’s trouble, that the metabolic instrument of the body through which the apparatus of consciousness incarnates, or becomes real, alive, and sensate - the vessel through which we view and perceive time - is too, time bound. We are, at root and heart, a spiritual apparatus of a primordial timelessness, which is to say, the encounter with the void itself - something, by nature, infinite, eternal, and endless.

The true condition of all matter in this case is spiritual; energetic, ungraspable. And yet, it is in this time bound fashion that we are like an architecture of music, a dissolving substance. And it is through this primordial mirror that we grasp at the water or air which is the evasive function of the possessorship of the body object at hand.

IV.

Mankind, in this sense, is an impossible thing; rather, it is nonexistent other than the biological echoes through time which are man’s culture. It is around food, sex, public gathering and language that man’s necessities are cultivated and warmed, the fire and hearth which are the sustenances of a species of animal which is forced to survive within the smooth and closed bounds of a case of psychic atrophy. This psychic atrophy is, purely and simply, a perennial state of survival; a condition of and through which all of mankind’s expression and arts are merely, arts and expressions of life.

The life of mankind within the enclosed form of the entropic, metabolic body, biologically programmed to seek and conduct endlessly reproductive functions, as the tree or the lamb, is itself a sacrificial instrument of nature - a furthering of the eternal essence and substance within the cask and the archive and the seed of the body of said particular evolutionary instrument.

Through this lens, it is not only that mankind does not exist, but that mankind, even in the shadow of the echo in which the species itself occurs, is in a state of perennial, primordial bondage to hidden inner facets and impulses which are itself a puppeteering by the hand of the invisible magician, which is nature itself.

V.

This is the source of all of the vision of magic; the ancient paganism which is the human ancestry and heritage across all time and life. It is the gamesmanship of the game of the reproduction of same; it is the shadows and mirrors and twists of imagination which are the guide-rails of life, which again and again lead to the same submissive and submitted outcomes - where man’s hand of hubris and conviction fall to the greater hand and guide of nature. This is to say, a perpetual and perennial return to the fulfillment of biological impulses: sex, food, sleep.

Man is guided and nurtured to this artless place, for this artless place is the state and condition of total unreality, total somnambulistic rest within the flowing river and continuum of time, where man is an unconscious agent, acting out biologically to create and reproduce endless firm outcomes for the furthering of genetic and biological constructs within the natural realm - new trees, new seeds, new children.

VI.

For man is already within a sphere of representation which has deeply narrowed from his stellar, primordial roots, roots of chaos and hearth and forge which themselves are at the crux and axis between chaos and order, fire and element. Man has become caged in a rote sensorium which is directed toward regular, obvious means. And it is in this way that man is a prisoner to unconscious ideals that he co-regulates and assigns as his own. He himself is convinced that he desires sex, that he desires food, that he desires rest. He himself is convinced that he is purely the biological mechanism which regulates and co-regulates him; he even assigns himself name, title, status, and authority. It is for the sake of this instrument that he strives to warring ends; to brutalize and assign himself positions of power and grandeur - so he can assign himself the greatest sexual impulse, the greatest quality of food; the greatest totemic item of significance. He seeks to co-identify with perceived objects and other statuses which qualify him for the ultimate good: his biological dominion upon earth.

All men at last seek these ends, whether they stake their narrows at the world itself, the familial home, the place of work. It is the territoriality of an animal.

VII.

As can be clearly seen in this short elucidation of a diagnostic, the condition of man is hopelessly low; it is a state of bondage to impulses and attempts; at seeking of terrain and domain which elucidates man’s status clearly as one that is assigned. He does not create himself, build himself, nor forge himself in the realm closer to the stars, which is historically the realm for the cosmic heroes. He is resigned and assigned to a life which is a pure satisfaction of a false identification with a time bound metabolic body; in so and doing so, he fails himself; fails his spirit and soul - words which ultimately only seek to describe his eternal nature - the stellar hearth of his being, the eternal substance which is the fire of life unbounded by place or time as it is incarnate in a quantum fashion. Man himself, truly, is everywhere and nowhere; his fire regularly threatens to spread and overwhelm whole forests of inanimate, unconscious substance - just as it equally regularly threatens to be extinguished from his lack of dutifulness to the substance of his eternal form from within; his obsession and prepossession; his addictive, unconscious overwhelm with the glorious gems of biological fulfillment which he shovels into himself to incite chemical reactions; hormonal, false, fleeting states of ecstasies: with food, sex, and consumption of cultural totems which play off his biological programming.

TWO

I.

So what is man to do in the face of this wake of time, a wake of time which has constructed him from without his presence; assigned him the historical weight of the biological, genetic body - with geothermal limitations and form?

He is to evolve; to ascend through this form through the seeking of the true self, the prior apperception of the first form; through gazing into the void, to discover the form and substance of the void - the essence and nature of his true being.

II.

This evolution is by way of a form or an approach called psychic hypertrophy, or a method of subtle movement through the veils of light which are the primal identifiers into the primordial identifier. What, truly, am I? What, truly constructs and construes the meaning of the lens through which I peer - the lense which constructs myself as in a separation from ‘the world’?

Everything man is but does not claim for himself is projected out into the world as ‘the object of desire’.

III.

We live within a framework where ‘that which is desired’ is impossible to obtain - first because it does not exist, in strict terms; second, because that which we desire is at any degree of distance a veil, an abstraction, a projection of that which we have disavowed within ourselves. This is a natural, evolutionary terminology which says: ‘I will create the image of that which is opposite within you and without you; mistaking for the essence within the object without, you will seek it wildly in the world unto death’. In this way, desire itself is a mechanism, a futurity, a projection of nature which is a psychic fracture only soothed in the becoming conscious mind - which is a mind unto becoming wholeness.

Thus, we ascend through the scales of desire - the fits of the night through which the desired object flits, through the smoke of the mind and the imagination; the chase in the night until the desired object is apperceived and apprehended. In this way, man and man’s psyche is a world of dreams and dream images - it flits through the perfect meal, the perfect love, the ideal object and image and synthesis of union - while all in the world it touches the world scab or the world wound of ‘withoutness’. This is a state of man which is a film reel, a screen, a play of light - where all are at mutual play in the creation and fortification of the image of the desired object, where all at and that lies beneath is abyssal night; the occasional crack or wrath of thunder, of primal, primordial life energy, which reveals the true dawn and ground of life - the hearth of being; the metabolic forge of the inner self and soul - sweating, breathing, peeling, and producing through the smoke of the life of the mind the images of the striving towards the impenetrable union with a holism, an ecstasy of, at last, the without and the within.

For the without is a world of opacity. It is a world of objects with hidden names and natures, through which with minds and sensoria we seek to touch and penetrate with the language of desire. It is in this way that biological beings are pure drivers with imagistic harnesses; we are reared and turned and pulled at the yoke of imagistic desires. We run and move like and as the river of time; we are back and forth to the sparkling of imagined waters. We sip at the fount of their bodies; they produce the endless plume of smoke which is the unsated digestive image within us. Thus, we need and require, at the endless consumption of the image, more and more - until we ourselves at the root of the driver are extinguished.

IV.

The metabolic truth of the nature of the being is the ground at and from which we steam. From there, all dreams and dreaming are empowered; all flights of fancy stream from this totemic center, around which all life dances. Self similar to the planetary orbits of suns star systems over, we are gathered around the true hearth of life and observe images in the flames; reach out and grasp the lick of it; scream and writhe and tumble as we are burned. Is this not the lesson the young child learns at the literalization of this metaphor; yet endlessly repeats throughout his life at the behest of the apparitions of nature? For nature is a ghost or a ghoul which springs from the womb and takes on endless enticing forms, temptations, desires. We strike towards them only to realize the emptiness within ourselves; ultimately, the emptiness from within the desired object. We are hollowed out, unexplored caverns, from within that we do not realize the true power of the tending of the life of the being. For there it is from which all pleasures and sensations emerge. It is entirely self contained; thus, not bound to any wavering of outside light, or brief hand and fist around a whisp of smoke.

In this way, we are a language of idol worshippers. All of our speech and all of our life is idol worship; directed toward means of mere symbolic praise. Thus, we wonder why we are empty and so obsessed with death! For our lives are filled with death and desire and drive towards death. This is what symbols truly mean and actualize. They are the light that emerges from the heat of the real body. They are the false transcendental means; the entrancements of pictures; the play of light and shadow which is the theatre of all life - the animal’s fright and the animal’s fixation; the animal’s creeping temptation; the uncertainty of the hands groping in the darkness of the light of the eyes.

V.

Pulled endlessly toward images, we are prisoners in a cave and cage of a false life; in the play of the projected false light. To move toward the real fire of being, we are loosened from the light of the sun and simultaneously descend and ascend into the true nature of the sun itself. Why, then this fear of hell, or hellfire? When in truth we descend into the depths of the body and retain and obtain the true metabolic core of the sun of oneself, the sun of oneself which is primordially aligned and descended from the first sun of the birth of this universal time? We are not even a measure of that, but a true and total incarnation of it - the very creationary essence of the universal whole itself. And it is in this way that we are primordially united beyond the casting of light and shadows from this false and incomplete apperception of the truth of the void, the sensorium of separation between being and othernesses.

For it is not, in truth, that the apperception of light and the casting of the shadows of bodies and individual forms of existence in their sheaths is a lie, or a falsity - but rather that it is an incompletion of the synthesis of the whole; the primordial web of the existential unity of nature and existence in and within the scales of fire - metabolic, stellar, cosmo-universal - and all that lies in the scales in between. It is that the heat that the life of the light gives off calls us, entranced, like planetary bodies that have cooled or have forgotten the hearth of life, calls us with the density, power, and gravity of the fusion, the creationary aspect of all life - toward the heart of all affairs.

Lo - that we have forgotten this within ourselves!

THREE

I.

Today, as in all times of man, we observe these self same principles play out. An obsession with the dirge of the body; the passing of the seed of life from cell to cell. A total entrancement of the game of life; with the symbolic totems therein: money, capital, possessions, bodies, and so forth.

This is a low form or a low state of consciousness, one which takes things as they are, and obeys the rote laws of nature. It is a dutiful, animalistic form of life - a form of life which is entirely consumed with the interplay and playing out of the fulfillment of the biological gratification of desire; a failure to achieve spiritual art - which is to say, a direct and intimate play with the fire of life; an incitation and excitation of extraterrestrial creativity. This would mean, in short, a form of creationary power of life utilized to previously alien means - means that are supra biological and supra desiro-logical.

The logics of desire and bios are themselves logics that require immense amounts of psychic and physical energy to sustain and consummate. As we flit and flee we must feed and stoke the metabolic flame; as we writhe in the wrath of our tumultuous minds, we expend massive amounts of energy just to keep ourselves afloat, breathing, living. This is a form of torturous unknowing - unknowing which traps countless men in perilous lives of mastery and slavery alike - control, power, and dominion. For the fear not only enslaves men to the yoke of the perceived powerful other, but it also whips men into the fury and fervor of the sought possession of great power; lordship over men and dominion over nature.

II.

This terror is the terror of unknowing, unreality, and ununion with the holism of the cosmos - the unity of the most sacred and sacral withinness; source and thrust of life with the entirety of the cosmic, intergalactic, universal whole - through and with the thread of the interstellar fire of the being of life.

Thus, countless religions, stories, and projections are told, justifications, advertisements, cultures, masses are assembled - to hear the story of life, all of which are projections and smoke and steam from the primordial flame which is the flame of suns at all levels and dimensions of being, the respiratorial sweating of cells seething and teeming in a primordial pool, the whipping of solar rays and flares in the cresting of the age of a sun; the fervor of a young animal rising to the high sine of adulthood. Just as black stars dip into the deep polarity of the sine and die and dive into the depths of concave death, so do dreams reflect the atomism of man. If this appears at all esoteric or as a riddle, it is with failure to perceive the essential depths of contrast of and within the whole that we walk.

For in darkness, mankind stumbles, even as within the life of the light as in the fire of being kindles and flames, strong as it ever was; yet ever more diffuse in the atomic differentiation of beings into novel forms of complexity. A wave of this novelty crests into the earthly body; many beasts emerge and extinguish in the struggle to maintain and obtain metabolic life on earth. It is as simple as a cheetah with an antelope in its mouth.

III.

For man to be truly liberated, he must fully descend into his incarnate condition. He must sweat deeply of and withinto his form; he must carve his way into the essential metabolic nature of his body and be reunited with the essential carnal ecstatic rhythm of the fire of the sun and be reunified with and within it in a way that is knowing. It is the diving of the hearth within the brain down into the heart, which becomes submerged in the infernal, divine engine of the stellar rhythm of the genital star of the procreative root of the body.

It is at last the source of our sex which is our beacon and magnet in this world; the root of our source is our desiring. It is that within which we are thrust into this world, seeking for the candle and the wick and the wax which will stoke our flame into this life. It is the mating and union and the primordial ecstasy of self and other, as an easy symbolism dutifully provided to us by the natural octave and rhythm of nature, well as the play of the sun and moon and the union and conjunction and dance of planetude. We ourselves are this rhythm into which we must plunge; as we observe it from without us, we mistake ourselves as lost from this dance, or as missing a piece of a part from within it that we must return like a lost limb from the far reaches of the earth or the stars. However, it is the psychic projection of inner division into outer revision that we must return; to ourselves - we must return.

IV.

When we have returned desire to ourselves, we are no longer seeking for some missing fallen atomisation that has spun without us into the world, a certain fallen star that we must go and recollect from the wilds of the forests of the world. This is the origin of the outer expedition, or a pilgrimage to a geo or cosmic location. We are, in this sense of being misguided, always fleeing our essential location, the cosmic, fiery rhythm of the body; the true unknown place - to venture to other exotic locales, both terrestrial and otherwise - in order to presume that we have learned something new or else otherwise conquered some other foreign, savage vision of othered projection.

It is the same with sexual conquering and dominion - for this is nature’s unconscious trick to the unconscious self of being. We exercise an impulse in and upon the world or the body of another, and convince ourselves that this impulse is fulfilled or that we have conferred, within it upon ourselves some sort of magical power of rising, or that we have obtained once and for all the majestic object that will fulfill us and empower us from within. But these totems do no use, and take us no further than a fallen sense of dissatisfaction, when the glimmer that we have bestowed upon them from within our psyche fades with the light into the night of tired disuse. We become dissatisfied, unamused; as with a childhood toy, we throw away the foundational remains of our lives built upon the refuse of tired, old times, artefacts which no longer hold their flavor, savor, or fervor - which once captured us in times of different youth.

V.

This world of unconscious fellows is, in this way, a charnel house, an archive of diffuse skeletons which beckon forever into the rise and fall of stars, the temptation of the light and heat which reverberates and wavers off the ground of a being body as in the bending light off the ground of a desert mirage. We run ragged towards it, ourselves desperate and weary after countless days and nights of chasing the promised desired fulfillment, only to collapse in front of the ever retreating vision. This psychic remission is a state of perennial impossibility; it is within itself a sort of murderous incompletion which itself, wherever it goes, wreaks chaos, havoc, and destruction upon otherwise stable ecosystems of regular seeding and cleavage of seasons of life. It is a raging, a raging which fails to reconcile the cosmic natural essential factor and force of life, the rise and fall of stellar beings; this itself being the construction of time and space, and the wavering light of images between which the gap and gulf through which we tread is the space of the desire of death.

We must ask ourselves, as rising beings with the sentient light of neuros - will we rise in the understanding; in the shedding of forms which lead us upon the perennial chase to nothing but the burning? Will we rise into and toward the apperception of the primordial unity which rests beneath and behind the fervor of all of our projections, the oar of our dreams which pours us into the life of this world? And in doing so - shall we become, in this intimate, whole self knowing, truly unified with the birth of the universe, all life, and all time? This is no transcendental vision, but an embodied, incarnate realization of the root and fundament of reality. It is not the becoming of the burning - but rather, the heart of the essential, permeant, being of the flame.

The mystery of the unknown that you can experience within yourself is the dice throw of creation.
It is the roar of god within the beaker of the exploding device of consciousness;
The fire that scatters like an uproarious engine; a knife of the clouds in the stars;
The building blocks of raw densities; the frictive building blocks which are shat like excrement from the ripping flame
Of the birthing stars, which sing in sine wave up and down through the scales of heat and density.

The metabolism of uncertainty, as each moment we are thrown into a wavering maze, a carnival of ecstasies,
A shaking door of time which births mutant beasts and unseen delights without names. We are a roll in the game,
A piece, a chief, a number, a device among detonators; an electronic fascination; a circuit with chips with language upon its breath.
We are a siren which wavers in chirping; in doing so transmogrifies, shapeshifting form,
Lizard of color, creature of being.

For we are within the great bright maze, entranced by a sun of infernal and external cores, drawn by inner and upward magnitude to the kiss of destiny,
The blinking of the black gaze of silence and the upward light of the uproarious noise. Down, we are lepers in the mud,
Gobbling for flesh with beaks under the lily pad moon.
We gaze in isles of mud and run towards the light from which our elemental forms tumbled; the cave in which we rattle metal cups like beggars against the bars of our faces, eyes, chin.

Our blocks tumble like atoms, gripping solid ground, wavering and with name and number - slip into sentence, syllable.
Each word is a tone, a button press’t upon the dial of time; indenting the spaceless fracture with form and body.
Distances and lightyears from each sound are the breaks in speech which are words,
Drawn together by the density of the raw, hot, dripping metal
Which cools in the gaze of time.

I.

Her personality was formed at the earliest incubation of the womb. As she swirled in the gray matter which fed her, in the quiet amber of her awakening, life was predetermined. Her hands and arms grew into herself; the natural language of her genitalia slowly formed; nutrients like caves funneled into her and drained and plumped the sap of her body, she who was once a formless idea.

The eternal recombination of sexual union is a vague concept, yet she perpetually recurred. She sprung up in all plant life; emoted and like bacteria in the well water of the ocean formed a language of incomprehensively massive geometry. She ripped through flesh, flesh after flesh, leaving nothing but the burned out core of the hot iron, the skeletal remains and ash of the body.

The personality was somnambulistic. She was a rote automaton, formed in the puppeteering of the earliest survival impressions, made into a dominion, a shadow, a cave, controlled, domineered; whipped into a character by the unfulfilled fantasies and unconscious languagings of a time that languished before her; sheltered her fragile infancy. They marched, like soldiers from the womb, out into the shallows of gravity, pulled to and fro by intensive forces like currents; bled for their electricity.

The life of her body was wild and unknown. She struggled and stammered to stand; to articulate the wildfires which punished the brush of her being, as she grew into herself and flowed out of herself. Each lost element, each disjection of breath, each excremental release, it was as if she was being used from the shadows of being – manipulated from within by a force with such profound, unconscious magnitudes; the leering shadows of a form like a dark planet, witnessing her birth and breath from a stage – a millennial vision of the unfolding and unwinding of the serpent of her soul, in which she was but a link, but a breath, but a spell, in the life of some greater force and being, which loomed upon her from the sacrificial rack.

She was to birth and die in a ceaseless, endless procession – like prisoners ushered in chains beneath the low ceilings of prison clouds. Hers was a stony existence, expressed in the brute, empty facades of pure concrete. Bodies were buried there, and recombined into deeper, harder forms; then at last compressed into oils, gems, and impossible purified containers of energy. Like her, the chamber of life narrowed; funneled into the canal and cavity of her birth parts. Consciousness was alien to the body. She observed it like a gravedigger, with the eyes of a shovel, with surgical gloves. It was as if the body itself was an isle, from which one leapt into the craggy rocks of the abyss of a stormy ocean of impenetrable blacks and blues – the angry chemical container of something that could not be held; yet ceaselessly was releasing life into the essence of construction – formlessness.

And yet, the everyday was wide with normalcy. Beings utterly controlled by instincts and impulses, unseen, unknown, with inquiry lost to survival; living out their biological, chemical, thermal, and plant-like destinies. Information condensed into spermatozoic matter; dispersed into grounds. Life fleeing, fled wildly; celebrated by a dying fire; sprung up again in the house through which deep information is converted to matter and form once more. The cycle itself was her, and yet, there was a deeper impulse. A desire to awaken, to slip from this cyclical dream and out into the open; to break into the eternal and reside there, even as the river of ephemeral trinkets, curiosities, and passions slid past, like sparkles of diamond in the water of time.

Life was held in the prison until it was released by recognition. Caged by impulses and doomed to repetition. What had evolved was temporary, and only further evolution could free it. Within her was an essential fire that perhaps could not even be described as living – more something permanently alien from which life had sprung. It was not bound to the rules of the flesh; yet took on the flesh like some temporary clothing.

II.

There was no name for this force, just as she was nameless. It proceeded with no end, and seemingly had no origin. It had become so regular that all around it, images had entranced the life of being; drawn it out into the light. It ceaselessly practiced in all disguises. Shops, stones, carousels of space; distances between stars; the gaping, waiting abyss of silences and meaninglessness. The emptiness of the soul, the burning, the agonizing, the wanting, the longing, the waiting. The dissatisfaction which propelled all things into movement and being. It sprung from a canyon where even stone was ripped away. All things that were born from it were innately wedded to it, simply as the womb which returns the seed of creation. They endlessly cycled from the total absence of death into the brief illusion and sparkling of being. Stones that drew the eyes, stones that glimmered in the light; that drew clouds of applause and eyes of hunger. Eyes that witnessed and blinked out of existence, but for a moment observing the same cyclical octaves that, like scales in a machinery, generated, compressed, gravitated, and dissolved forms.

They were ground into dust; even the child that she was born would be death, whose life would abscond like a breath into some undeniable ulterior condition, no longer bound by the crystalline chains which wrapped themselves about the body and enabled the constitution of a separate, temporary selfhood. The subjective thoughts, feelings, dreams, desires, all wrought about the whipcord of the fundamental impulses of nature. This is what made all things slaves to the great force; nary to break it is to break oneself over the stone of time; to extend to the sheer further limits and outer reach of the body and its possibilities. To extend into starvation, abstinence; to extend into engorgement; carnal ferocity. The body lashes and rattles its cage; the passion of life is like a starved tiger, popping firecrackers in the tingling pores of the flesh. All sensation culminates and releases in the emotional expression of the body. Life emerges, like an avalanche, or an awakening daemon – a beast from the core of the heart’s beating.

There was no solace for this; rather no reason nor name but rather a ceaseless string of characters and characterizations; fashioned and wrought from the raw impulses of the flesh and the biological constitution, which inevitably represented and trickled down into expressions of being; expressions of individual self within the canon of all beings and forms. Ability, foresight; the propensity for steps of logic, introspection; the necessity of obtaining life processes from sunlight – all of these survival tools; these hammers and nails – became, within the great song of nature defining traits; traits that were as easily gained and shed as illusions, as facsimiles, as values used and shed only for the maintenance of the metabolic process which hooked life up to the great electrical and biochemical tubes of existence – which used the iron and heat of the sun to fuse and sustain the circuitry of the body.

She was herself, a tool, an instrument of horror which achieved a form of irrelevance in its utility. She herself, being at root and in the still of silence, away from all spectation and performance of the tasks and assurance of the ecosystem of others which fed her and sustained her – was nothing. She had no character, no personality, no real true essence of being – other than that which was socially constructed, a character and sociality of the jungle. Being a part, was that she was a slave to the theatre of the role which constituted her in relation to others; that she was a womb, a tube, a siphon of nutrients, a material, a fold in the aether of being destined to be consumed, constituted, and consummated within a greater, deeper, larger process. She acted as its eyes, its birth canal, its hands, its feet. For it she walked, for it she spoke; beneath all of her actions and most fundamental, essential intuitions, she was nothing more than a slave to it – this greater form and force of being for which she had no name, no reason, no identity – other than to obey.

III.

This reasonlessness was her demise; her agony, her purposelessness as she toiled on the soil of the earth, which at once was the greater cosmic soil which stretched out into the wastes of the still unformulated, dearths, clouds, abysses and absences of the spatial folds of the rippling belly of the universe. She tumbled senselessly, seamlessly, meaninglessly through the turning of the hours, through the writhings of the sun about the grave upon which she sat, perched, marking the still of her body as it grumbled, wanted, was wanton and marked with periods of incessant anger, fortitude, and then utter silence. She resisted, rebelled; in the next etching of light and shadow, she ceased; was utterly forgotten entirely; still as if she was merely and simply nonexistent.

These periods of rebellion were nothing more than the lashings of the word of nature upon her, the callings of the tasks of her life which took her upon themselves and rode her through time. She was no real thing, or no real person. There were no distinctions whatsoever about her; this was what made her so precisely natural. The depths of character are reserved for those that deny life; she affirmed it wholeheartedly, without second thought. For life could in truth not be denied; there was no art to it but artifice, no terraforming the essential life force but to briefly repurpose it into a plastic facsimile. There was no point in resisting this higher self, this nature. For it worked through her, as her indistinguishably. There could be no essential difference demarcated between her and the eternal force which worked through each being. It was rather that beings disguised themselves in it, through it, in their belief that disguise was necessary in order to achieve their biological ends. To sustain the vessel; to procreate the vessel; to pass the endless beacon and beaker of information from lip to lip; to elevate and prize one’s own private history. To taste pleasure and meaning in the fortification and dissemination of one’s own individual life.

In this, she was closer to a tree than she was to a conqueror, to an idolator, or a linguist. She had no secondary or tertiary means or forms of communication; she lived and died in a sort of ritual silence, of a deep rootedness of self which lived and worked in the grounds and in the soil of existence. That she lived, she lived ceaselessly entwined with the cycles of being; that her seasonality was always at the cusp of indistinguishability. She teetered at the cusp of living and death without a care for the definition of light and shadow, as they bled into perennial, twisting, figures and flames of light – as a sun sets over a field and the edge of the forest. This essence was something eternal, and the body was a means through it; she was accomplished in the giving of herself over to the cycles; of stripping her callings to movement down to the sap of the quick and knowing that which worked through her. This was the only life, all else was servitude without knowledge. The life of the world is freed in the union with the body – the body which stands already returned to the essence of life, and is relinquished to it; relinquished from its machinations of perennial reproduction of forces, forms, and bodies – projections and images, languages which dance around its essence.

Life in this way is tortured until it remembers. This timelessness, this time out of time is wrought and whipped to the cord of forcible, seasonal change of forms; to the heat of the blood turning cold; to the dial of suns and stars turning dark. The life that worked through her, the life that is her, is like a node that lights the circuit board of her flesh; the light that illuminates the mind and creates the reflection of the witness. This electrical reality of the body does not cease at the hands, the eyes, or the sensation which travels through it. It is in the grounds, the soil, the roots; crackling in the stars and sheathing and shedding forms with thermal lives; sequential chemical mechanisms of consumption and experiential regeneration to sustain fusion, metabolism; the heating of cores. She is like a worker at the still of the forge and iron of her own soul; the body is sweating to reveal that which the cloak of the form obscures. And this is nature, the essence of the sun and the sheathe of the light which blinds the eyes and obscures the essence. The opacity and dullness of bodies which linger in the gravity of titanic beings; feed off the sheathe and leaves of the sun; the lives of the sun; the drunken wine which waits in the fermenting darkness of the night. It is this wine that is, when drunk, that which reveals; that which the eyes see, through the eyes see – in the darkness of being.

THE TRAVELER

Come closer now towards the light, so I can speak with you. Ah, yes - the silhouette of your face is made apparent. It is but a shallow lamp in this hall by which we speak; at each moment, the wick of flame flickers in the wind of time.

At each shadow you jump, on the verge of collapsing. Are you so fearful of the night? The things that lurk within… we have a vestigial imagination; remembering the claws of history. But can it even be called history? So ancient that it cannot even be remembered. We do not have a name or an image for fear; yet it lives in the brain; tosses and turns in the limbs. The frantic pumping of the motor, the animal nature…

Yes - I am not from here. You’ve caught it. Just traveling; this city by the river reminds me fondly of the temples of the blood. The desert rivers, the cradles of life. We gather and drink and trade among the waters…

Anyways. You said you are running? From one gutter to the next, from one parasite to the next. We are but fleas hopping upon the backs of this earth; gobbling at her blood mouth. To live you must bask in the sun and drink the electric blood. That was the purpose of the old rituals; the madness of torture; the dungeons of the asylums. Civilization, to drink the wine of the blood; beating the sacrificial drum together. We throw the dregs, the lost, the confused - into the fire; this fleeting twist of the mouth that is joy at the murder.

The way that the blood of the red meat nurtures the flesh… this cannot be denied. You’re running from the killer, you say?

He’s gone into the night with the rest of the prisoners, the nectar, the drug of life, he sips it most gleefully; hops from branch to branch; dying, blanched carcass of earth. He changes clothes; shifts in the daylight; glimmers in the night… the fatal dream. We endlessly dream up new sacrificial methods for our closest silent meat; all the while grant ourselves the permissiveness of illusion to throw feeling into the fire for survival - for hunger.

Yes, yourself, as one who champions the weak, one of the strong. The first to lie, the most triumphant in the story of uplifting beggar fellows from their slipping into the silence of the last sleep on the cold streets. It’s an ancient story, the noble motive. To uplift the sick, the impoverished, to raise all life towards the light. We’re like dogs, we are, or something with less language; even more pure utility. All goodness and glory erased for the moment where one form of life must raise itself up in front of the next and raze it for blood and warmth. The pure carnality is unavoidable. All of this boasting of righteousness emerges from the mouths of those who are most quick to shed the masks of their skin; feast and devour those they’ve sworn to carry forth into a new world of power.

I lie? That this is simply a vicious internal motive, a belief… let’s not be fools about life. Man is no different than any other beast that is forced to roam in the wastes, where nourishment is spread far and warmth is tinged with the threat of a dropping cold; a winter’s chill. None of us are exempt from the dying of a star; the fading of a pulse.

Notion of the true fear is peripheral. It haunts you and the others out of the corner of the vision of their eyes. Fear stalks us like the true predator. For all you want, you can pretend that this life does not begin and end at the precious fire within you, that you protect; that you greedily slurp with each fading and distant passion - which, from child to bleached bone, you drink in a self consumption which bleeds you dry. That your hands do not grasp at the rungs of life like the rest of us, your high and mighty power! Divorced from life. That’s what we call those who slip into dreams, idealism. They hold no ground, they’ve already gone from this earth. The dead that creep among us; whisper speech of pure delusion.

All there is is the ingestion, it is the blood and nutrient, the element and mineral that enriches us. We live gnawing at the dead stone of the earth, and take the warmth of the stars unto us in all forms. Nothing is exempt from the raging heat of a star rising toward a meteoric light; the angry, raging star that consumes all of the death and dust in its field; swallows the radius of other slighter, younger, and careening deathly fields. And this is known to all, even if it remains unspoken. The true radius of power is thankless, feelingless, and takes all unto itself. You protest - I see it in your eyes; feel it in the stirring of your hands and face. But your protest is a revelation of the truth that you know to be true; the rebellion of contradiction within you. That which you believe, to protect yourself from the truth of reality.

This is the nature of all animals, that the young are reared by those it must usurp; by a pride that must expand and be cut down by the fall. We rise into a summer of ecstasy and seeming eternal power, the reaching of true ephemerality to a knife’s point, a razor’s edge; then a cascading downward into the coldness of oblivion. For we are at the reach, we are the outlier, are we not? You sit here and speak with me about unspeakable things; the sweat upon your brow - this language revealing something inhuman. And yet you remain, even against your best intention. You, too, wish to know plainly, purely, what is, what exists in this world.

And I applaud you for that. Truly. Amongst all the snakish addicts and street beggars, the rags of the marketplace, those who clutch to their already dead memoirs; pure sentimentality. This is the warmth that keeps the folk of animals alive; into the fold of their stories, their culture, their histories, their presumptions of right and wrong. But we are far beyond this, my friend - we are into another realm entirely. We can no longer afford to believe in such religious things. Survival screams like the panther emerging from the brush. It grits and bares its teeth to such unfortunate realities as these. And who are we to call them right or wrong? When a baby suckles and teeths at its mother’s breast? And the mother strangles it in the cradle? Yes - I see you wince at the thought, or for me to even begin to broach these realities to you. That the weak are just toys, to be manipulated, pranced about, manacled by the proud and mighty whose fall is soon destined. For everyone and everything has something beneath them, no matter how small - no matter how lowly the order of power. Even ants take life beneath them; order it, enslave it, to fit the correct and proper system of assumed responsibility.

It is so wrong to kill those weaker? To enslave them? You speak from a place of unreality, of nonexistence. That which makes this world is an endless chain of blood, linked from all species and life forms - from the plant to the cell to the biped. We all live and breathe and eat from the star, a reaction sparked by the far reaches and ends of time. Such a thought is death, dissociation, or utter ignorance. And yet, the very survival of our vision of collectivity, of community, depends on it. The kindness of others, in an ecosystem where the order of our jungle is submerged; the acceptance of submission by lessers is required. All false order springs from this, the smokescreen over the true procession of the affairs of power. Bankers, officers, titans of industry - we have made these men great rulers who grip the currency of this world in their hands and thus assume command. We are totems among totems, images among images. We sit in a theater and imagine a world of order that we have left behind, a world of order long forgotten; a world of order from which we have awakened into chaos…

Yes - precisely. It is the mind. It is language; the creation of the art of life. For this is where we stand, this strange species, mankind - we stand upon the precipice of an alien world, an alien life. We cease to be animals and yet with each fright we remember our animality. The softness and fallibility of the flesh… we are stretched in the splitting of the brain. This new world that is incarnate within us is the growth of the very technology which allows us to reason, to reconsider, to re-think and reflect. We cannot yet grope truly with it; we stumble. Gather closer to this lamp - so that your face is not in shadow. Good - I prefer to see clearly. The mind is yet so young; fed like a sapling or a fetus on the fat of the mother; we are the incubator for another way of sight; another way of seeing. Perhaps the mind feeds from us, that we are its ambassador, its tube for feeding…

This new brain. There is a concept called dialectical redoubling. We are pushed back in upon ourselves with the contradiction of self examination. Can you not see that this is the trap? We have stepped too far into a new world which is not yet existent. We cannot take our bodies with us. The rush and race after us, but we have already breached into another realm, the realm of the ideal. And the mind rests there and dreams and frets, depicts life back to us on an endless loop. We consider ourselves, toss ourselves over in our heads like a smooth coin. And all the while the fundamental fabric of our lives does not change. We are still trapped in this embrace if you like, or wandering in the garden of substantiality. We are still wrapped to wanting things. The body that must breathe, the blood that must pulse, the mouth, stomach, and intestines that must feed. And yet we worry about this? The appearances and trifles of our world? The stories of culture… it is but a madness, my friend, a madness. Any and all will kill to preserve their stake upon this ladder; all that is left is to free ourselves from it entirely.

How, you ask? Quite simply - suicide. We must die to everything. You think that I am joking! Rather, I am quite serious. The only path forward from this dirge of nonsense is to see the fundamental emptiness in everything. Life is a tunnel, a fire, that passes through everything. It bestows no meaning but the capacity to see meaning, create meaning. Humans are narrative beasts, narrative animals. From the place and pit of survival, they tell themselves whole shadowplays of meaning, the entrance and exits of characters - multilayered and leveled visions of their own existence, character, and persona. When all the while, it’s just a mask to maintain; shovel in the pit the coal of the endless, insatiable hunger.

We’ve run so far into this dream that we’ve surrounded ourselves with affirmations of the story. Toys, trinkets, clothes, roles, jobs. Imagine a cell dressed in a suit! Or a rat or a heifer presenting you with a bill of goods. This civility itself is a mask that must be ripped from the face to reveal the bloody, intercuteal layer of existence. You make yourself stone. You live and act in a rigid, rigorous darkness of ideals and roles. You have yet to unleash the animal; you shield and sheathe yourself from the madness which rattles in your bones like a caged demon; you’re a beast unto yourself.

Trudge endlessly into the future of a cold science, if you please. The mind… it wanders. Perhaps you remain even halfheartedly in this conversation as it dwindles; I myself cannot even be convinced at this language, the writ of this tirade. To struggle and smear the shit of this word onto and upon the air. There is something about the lowness of it all that is illuminating. We could step out into the night; remark upon the paths along the riverbanks. The animals and beings, bodies that decompose peacefully and slowly in the ecosystem of the water. These are the simple facts and affairs of life; yet they are treated with such fear and disgust. Perhaps it is because we do not truly understand life, nor do we understand who, or what, we are.

Ah, I’ve piqued your interest! Good - we might remain in this place of wonder, like a slight drunkenness. A red wine on a spring or summer’s evening. A cobblestone path lit by orange streetlights… a great moment in time of possibility. We must remain drunk… but I digress. Yes… who we are. Or rather, what. A series of chemical reactions, a series of sparks of electric light; animation which propels us forth? Pure energy in dreaming suits. We must react and react forth, yes, to live! I must take in the fuel; the fuel that fuels the deepest bowels of the earth, the iron engine; the heat magnet; the voice of the earth; the magnetic pulse which spins us in a dance - propels us into the great attraction of which we can only speculate! Ah! The return of passion, gracious, gracious wonder. I must feed upon the oil of the earth, the black river of soot; the ash of the ancient ones. This emboldens me, grows me in power, a flower among evil, a petulant thing. This is what was meant by the devil and the fall. A fallen angel of the light to reside in the world of fixtures; temporary things with gravity and density. That is the risk, that is the cost of maintaining form. It cannot be avoided, monsieur, it simply cannot.

Yes, I’ve let the mask of my language slip… I am not from here, but I know many languages. You could hear it in my accent? Perhaps I cannot remain as obscure as I wish to be. I am no universal thing, but a stone among stones, a ray among rays. I travel with a hood over my face. I remain in no place for too long. I know many cultures… yes… many. For I have been a part of heritages… many names… many worlds…

We must remain focused. We must remain in the place of ecstasies. Come - follow! We are taking on this brief coat and traveling to the palace of evils. Rather, we are goodness disguised as evil. Each of us cowers over the river of blood and furtively fills the chalice of life; sips like a guilty animal. Are we demons because we are called toward life? I say - this is our very being! And we are to shy away from evil to become deathly things… yes, my friend, this is your religion. Your religion is one of death and pure sterility. It is of the mortal fright of the weak. I see your rebellion now, greater than ever. Perhaps this is what makes you devilish! We who do not shy away from life are those who endure. Your great preachers and monks, your interpreters of books - they feed and tell you not to feed, to die, to find your life in the next world. Who was ever enlightened by death? Die to the world you believe; cease to know. Silence your mind and awaken to truth! Enough foolishness!

Pardon me… I’ve let myself become incensed. This passion… I’ve seen many like you. Many who with great obstinacy retained the veil. I cannot peel it from you, nor take it from you. Your fear protects you, makes you stable; throws you into a world you wish to know. I know of the power of dreams… many nights, I’ve slept - and they’ve told me things. You may think I’m mad! The ancient depths of the mind wander toward truths we can scarcely begin to estimate. It is remembering the origins of itself, monsieur… it is remembering the origins of time - the moment the first cradle of the yolk of the egg of fire broke from the womb of timelessness. The moment of the abyss; the moment of creation. Your eyes remember it, your mouth, your tongue. Every inch and ounce of your body seeks to create; to remember the procreation process. You are but a tool; a tool approaching and inching toward the horror of its own self recognition. Do not worry… this process will free you eventually…

For now, you are like a prisoner, in chains, marching in circles. Row after row, prisoners in their manacles clasp the backs of one another and see no further than the man in front or behind them. The shadows in the pit of the yard hazy; the twisted faces of the soured, rotted, mad brains of each and the next - telling each other horrid tales of philosophical incompletion. You see, we are trapped here, among this world of stone. This open air mad house. We cannot remember what is like to be sane because no one has ever known! Consider this, and know this to be true. The only sanity we’ve ever known is the sanity of the animal, utterly and totally enmeshed with nature. The sanity of pure survival, mindless, thoughtless survival. And this is worse than the Bastille! How are we to pick the locks of the mind which chains us? This mind that you are given has utter attributes, my friend, attributes that are severe and unforgiving. It is your lot, the code that has been handed to you - the alphabet from which your existence powers itself into being. The rotting smelt in the breath that seeps from the core of the stomach precedes all speech. Men who are killed by their own vices - their words are meaningless. They cannot speak of anything but death, utter destruction. They are jesters, clowns in the carnival. And yet - this world is all clowns!

Join us then, in the parade of madness. Celebrate the carnival of ecstasies! Drink deep from the barrel of the witness; let blood in the open. Do you not see where this road takes us? Men like us who think, our sanity slips from us to let the masses. The sheer force of thousands, millions, it overtakes the voice of reason. And yet, we cannot let ourselves think these things. We must protect the barracks of our privation. We must allow ourselves this allotment to think, to understand. For what else remains? The coldness of this world… the dull, brute animal steel of clashing, of war… of men; power over men…

I stand and warm myself by this small fire. Join me, beggar, ironworks, men who work on the rails; in the mines; I call you forth to be enlightened! Laugh! And yet, the fire is truly warm. Feel it, flush against your face. This aliveness, this passion… we must become strong in mind, in heart, in body, in the very unity of our ideal with the manacles and materials of this world. We must forge, you see, forge this passion upon this earth; sear it consciously into being with the power of embodied, elemental life. And yet, it takes men of genius to see it. Men of genius who can penetrate the veil of life and return it to elemental wholeness - beyond men; beyond animality; beyond earth. We must return to the primordial origins; to the fount of life; where it all began. We must know time in a deeper way; return time to timelessness.

In each moment, life penetrates; leaps into being. We must seize and ride that electricity, understand it to be ourselves. We must grow and enliven and entrance and dance that energy. We must awaken it; awaken ourselves to ourselves! Surely you understand, monsieur, surely you understand! Need I not explain this to you!

Nothing else matters, nor does anything else exist. The rest of this dross among us is like shadows to be polished off a diamond; yet this is no diamond, but a star. The opacity of life is like a sheathe we must remove upon a dagger which pierces mortality into immortality. This is the true identification. Beneath all of the coats and cloaks of self imagery, we are a current utterly and truly unbroken from the source of existence and life itself. We must return to this place, this place we have never left, but a place we have never truly known! Understand this contradiction at the level of history. We have lived in the utter survival state; we are and we must migrate with the power of the new mind, the mind of the front brain; we must migrate into the state of true self recognition beyond all shadows, imagination, and imagery. 

You’re quite right indeed! Even words seem to veil this phenomenality. For how could I explain to you the internal, embodied union with something more primal, with more depth and truth, more accessibility than even the most animal, guttural instinct? We have not prowled deep enough, my friend, we have not prowled nearly deep enough into our heritage and origin. This mind is millions of years old, but our life far precedes it. We have been passed down, like a beaker, a test tube, more times than we can scarcely imagine. How can you recover yourself, you ask? How many lifetimes have you, as this code, this mixture, this amalgamation of genetic language - this book of nature - how many lifetimes have you truly lived? More than you can scarce count; the sheer atomic elementality and cellular life within you remembers a history scarcely worth bothering to attempt to contemplate. And yet, you can feel it, can you not? The life that lives you, the life that steers you like the bow of an ancient ship through waters that you simply cannot conceptualize! You call this madness and confusion, I call this innate enlightenment! You must dive deep into the core. This is where the blueness of the sky and the ocean touched by life turns to blackness. The pearl of life rests in the core of the blackness; the core of nothingness. Therein rests the nature of the true light of the sun.

Understand this simply. Before the star there is nothing, abyssality. We must know what we are and what we are not; what we are is time and the state of being before time. We must return to the balance of nothing - the balance before any and all duality, any and all relationship of separate cores, beings, bodies. We are a stage at which this dynamic of time is playing out; intermingling, comixing, expanding, contracting; articulating an increasingly complex dance of a multiplicity of forms. All this emerged from a window as brief as a needle; a contraction and expansion which birthed from the womb of mote singularity an entire phenomenological relationship of beings, species, galaxies… all of this we do not know, nothing, not even the remotest thing. And yet, again, we must feel it! We are left to our feelings, to our intuition. The faculty of eyes convinces the truly blind of their mutually exclusive genius. It is the ignorance of hubris which fools us. And thus we live and die as things which merely survive our own ignorance. And what kind of fate is this? Destined to do much less than know; to rejoice in our own stupidity - rolling around in the mud of our own delusions of imagination.

I know. It is the last gasp of control. It is the last stage of the animal. It is the way we keep ourselves and others safe, like a wall around a city, a fire around which we gather our huts, a method of organization. The stories, the tales. The art. For that is what it all is! The art, the imaginations of worlds - these are all mechanisms of control in the face of the brute fact of breaking into the truth. It is an exclusive thing, done by the terribly few. For it requires the constellation of a great deal to penetrate into reality from the utter delusedness of the animal. The fearful know that they know nothing; they are crushed in body and mind and thus in image by the utter weight of a life process that plays out before and within them. The many know that they are victims to a deluge of life; a deluge of life that comes wearing the mask of death to them. The very organic nature and laws of life, the principles of the cycle of life and death; the subsumption and transformation of energy and blood and fuel; of heat - it appears to them like a great evil. They expound, they shout and scream, they call it the reaper of evil, the carnal matrix of the devil; they claim that it must die for them to live - and it must! These many are not wrong, these masses. Their very lives are threatened and taken by the powerful, the life and the tiers of life which trample over them to claim further vestiges of life.

So they recede into spectacle. The sovereignty of the pleasure of the witness of the carnival, the circus, the colosseum. The play of death and power which scarcely touches them. The witnessing of the death and foolishness of others to escape their own. It’s consistent with the idea that one who is condemned can only free himself through the condemnation of the other. One who is powerless must only find one less powerless than him; unleash all of his angst and anger upon the wretched, the lesser.

Leave this world! Truly. One must leave survival behind; open himself and his insides up to death; to be polished and be made pure by the total ecstatic suicide. This is why we are drunk, my friend, upon the ledge of existence. Then and only then are the mortal burnings of the stars clear; only then can we see what is truly at stake. It is our ability to experience the truth of existence; not to live and die in the anguish of the shadows. We must not labor long for anything other than the total apperception of the truth; this is a toil that requires us to relinquish ourselves entirely of ourselves. And this is precisely what constitutes the real and only death, the death of illusion to reveal the eternality of the real. Everything else is a cloak we must strip from ourselves to bathe naked in the ecstasy of the moonlit river of the stars. This, my friend, sounds like poetry to you. It is the poetry of the truth!

I am no preacher, nor am I no babbler, musician, poet, or anything of the sort. Words are my medium, my language, to communicate this truth to you, in hopes that you and only you will hear. I speak them with utter clarity and directness; I speak to you in confidence as a friend, as we are - here together to contemplate these things in the tavern beside this darkness of mortal struggle just outside. May we sit here awhile and contemplate further? This, we generate true warmth from this - the camaraderie of truth. It does not matter where you are from, or what you or I once believed. It is that we are seekers; that we seek the truth of our nature, our very being. What is your essence, monsieur! We have come from darkness and shifted shape into complex networks and channels for electrical information, for light. We are discrete data packets; we are ceaselessly exchanging, communicating, with ourselves, one another; with the network and soil of cellular life… the coil of the air and the heat of the fusion of the stars which are our birth mothers. The earth which is our womb…

We have come from darkness and yet we shirk the darkness in fear of ourselves! This foolishness… this fear of our supposed great evil. We condemn outside of ourselves what is within us. But we are the great evil! The murderers, the heathens, whatever horrific crime so soothes your definition of the evil. The strangulation of a young woman and the death of a butterfly. The extinguishing of the life of a cell; the murder and consumption of an animal. This line that we draw of cannibalism; this line that we draw of life! We are ceaselessly crossing it; yet we proclaim this judgment; this ability to condemn others for the acts we thoughtlessly commit at all levels of existence to remain; to retain flesh upon this scaffolding of darkness and abyss; the turning and fleetingness of life in any one, given, temporal structural form.

It is much easier to perceive ourselves as being the righteous, you see… much easier. For it is us against the rotten world is it not? The world that is out to get us, take from us, steal from us. The intuitions of common folk are nearly always correct and well soothed. It is far simpler to stake this claim of ourselves as the victor, the hero; that whichever conception of divinity is on our side toward our holy pilgrimage of destiny, is it not? It makes the murder, the rape, the corruption much simpler. To us it is this ‘necessary step’ toward the fulfillment of our powerful destiny, is it not? You see… this is not foolishness, as you seem so desirous to suggest. It is a great tool, a way of being in the world so as to convince oneself that one’s violent acts are not simply necessary, but dignified, honored, even holy. It uplifts the struggle of the animal to the plane of the divine. Each rape or murder that is committed, each massacre, each genocide, is committed for the holy rite of supremacy, the holy rite of power. Can you see how much weight is behind that concept, monsieur? How much weight and how much power is placed beneath the conviction that whatever act one perceives must be committed is not only necessary but holy?

All of this is pure selfishness my friend. And you are afraid to admit this, perhaps as am I. But it is this selfishness that propels even the most righteous act. We must become, as it were, ever more selfish. Why? So as to perfect selfishness. To unify selfishness as a whole. The truly selfish act is an act that is committed in total balance of life. The chain of life is meant to birth something higher than the human, higher than us. We are but a step, a stage in life. And that we surrender to life is that we surrender to this process; the realization that this process is at the root, us ourselves. That we hold no permanent ground in this shell, this corpse - but rather this body is a passage of the life itself through the tunnels and gravities and grounds of time into new form, new formation; new matrices of evolution; unknown methods and ways. How can we know which way the future will turn? The drop of a pin, a hair-trigger - the life on this earth reverberates and dances on the dial of chance. One movement, one perception, one belief, one idea - it changes everything, in the most subtle of ways. This is the dance of the light and the rays of the sun. One winter, nothing may grow there again. One summer, this plot of life, this land may become a new paradise.

We must embrace this chance, you see. We must dance on the dial of darkness and permit the total and utter silence of death; in another hand ceaselessly, endlessly create like the fusionary powers of the sun. We are a contradiction reflected by the moon; we are an hourglass which takes on the colors and flavors of the light. We are penetrated by the light of life and aged like a wine in the bottle and barrel and still of the existence of being. And thus we are drunk off of ourselves, indeed! For we are permitted nothingness; this is our freedom. We must embrace this chance that will grow wild things from the vines of the unseen; even as our feet and toes grip the warm dirt and soil of this earth that threatens to grow cold as the body of our flesh careens away from the warmth of the sun. We are a game of perilously small distances. And this is our beauty, indeed… the beauty of our uncertainty which is in fact a deeply perfect geometry measured in planetary movements; the exact curvature of the earthly form and how it hangs entranced in the mutual dance of its neighboring bodies…

We are a perfection disguised in the balance of the known and the unknown, which can only be called the past and the future. Before us lies an expanse, monsieur, an expanse that is a gulf, cavernous, deep and wide; it is into this unknown we must leap before the flower of our candle is extinguished. We cannot be concerned with good and evil; we must only be concerned with what is righteous and true. And truth alone is righteous; truth alone may be our guide when all else has fallen into chaos. Warring parts ceaselessly vie for control; only the whole of existence and being rests in peace. It is the true spectator, the true witness beyond the spectacle, beyond the theater of time, life, and reality. We must stand outside of being and remark upon it from nonbeing. Do you understand this?

Very well. You must take your rest, as I mine. Tomorrow I may well be off to another city by the river water. I crave the silence and solitude of the woods of travel; away from this turning world of affairs. I bid you farewell! Perhaps we may speak again… Adieu, my friend, adieu!

II.

Bonsoir monsieur! Yes, you recognized me! Very well… no we did not exchange names. Perhaps it is best that it remains this way, is it not?

It is rather hopeless in the marketplace today isn’t it… the carts are blocking the way, the disorderly nature of it. Let us step away from the clamour… this hopelessness that is everywhere. Passè, is it not? The struggle to maintain our lives. This overcoat that you wear of your sincerity, the guest of your disguise. But I know you too, the one who seeks to assert passive dominance in your extension of friendship. By your eyes, you see it in yourself!

It is good that we speak to these things; give them an eye, an ear, an air to the nature of the beast. His hunger. It is best that we do not avoid these things, monsieur - and face them head on! This gives us this little nobility, does it not! Indeed… we are a great struggle between the demon that threatens to overwhelm us, and this thin thread of compassion that we extend over the gulf toward friendship. Let us be not misers but comrades in this war that burns the trees, the villages, and leaves us all cynics! I’m afraid so, my friend… I’m afraid so… that we are all bastards of the demon mother goddess that we call nature. She is a hungry woman, alas… she will not leave us, and she is the one that will feast through us! Insatiable carnal beast, devil woman! She is called the black woman of hunger, she of many names. But my friend, forbid that we get caught in this place, simply forbid it! It is best that we remain upon the surface and exchange glances of goodwill, is it not? Before we are dried up tar, left upon the spit of the bone…

To meet on this day, awfully hot day, the sweat. It is days like this where the struggle against death is forgotten, where the sun is mortally close. It is less threat to be burned alive in these summers than it is for the blood to run cold in the snow. Remain close to the sun, chérie! Indeed - we are all huddled for warmth to keep the blood alive. The whisper of the language that we all speak; the shadow of which words merely evoke; replicate. So much of us and around us is dead; it is death itself at which we stare and persistently evoke. All that life is, it takes unto itself! Robust, bloated, consumption! This hunger, yes, in our best intents, threatens to eat us alive; we are burned of it until the ash of old age. We ache; we long; we leer jealously at the young! At the height of life; not knowing the fall that awaits them. The young are close to the sun, are they not? Maintenant! At this moment! Precisely. And what fallen image can replicate this? The blood of youth?

Nothing, monsieur, nothing. And this is why we devour our young, eat them alive. For they are close to the sun; the ripe fruit that is plucked by the hungry march; the procession of death. We are death eaters. For we must gobble the meat before it rots; take from the vine at the robustness of the flower. And we do so with a mixture of fear, shame, and delight. This is our lot, monsieur, may we rejoice in it! That we are killers of the hunger; killers for the pleasure that is to mingle the hot blood; for a moment give us life before we lapse into the dead silence; the depths of feelinglessness. You have felt this abyss, my friend, have you not? The abyss that beckons and waits; the abyss that is neither moronic nor intelligent, the pure characterlessness, the abyss that is not even seething! It is this dull point that perhaps we most are my friend. We are entirely neutral, in our moments before we are heated like the stove towards passion, or broken from passion and ecstasy like an addict that is sapped of all of his desire into a catatonic blackness of despair and death. We oscillate, do we not? This absence, until our threat or fear or predation is aroused. In a childish, pure way, we might call this curiosity…

Precisely there is nothing to fear. Death for us is the most personal, immediate state. The felt sense of emptiness that we must obscure with music and noise; the chatter and throng of the market, of the clubs, dances, musicals of our lives. The theatre must obscure it my friend! Lest death threaten all and each of us personally. Lest death confront us and unseat us from the carousel wild ride of feeling, sensation, and the mad circling of our thoughts. We dance around the fire, and this is what makes us mad and free; ignorant and intensely stupid. Consider it! But for a moment, recede yourself into silence. You are nothing, not even a worm. You are not even the lowest chatter, not a branch, nor a rung, nor a chittering of a molecule. Deep in the soil there is the intense silence of death. Not even a sigh disturbs the dead; they are truly at peace. What are you, monsieur, running around for your desires? You may tell me that it is a certain coat that you want, or a certain stone. A certain vehicle, but all of this is a fugue, a smokescreen for your true desires. You wish to elevate the thing that has always belonged to the dead to the palace of enchantments; the celebrity of desire. You must let pleasure overwhelm you, even in the mutest lie, even the shadow of the desire of your ideal. You must have even the fraction of the image, even the wafting scent of the fullness of the dream image to sate this fiendishness!

That we are - fiends until we truly die. Fiends til the end, til the surrender and relinquishment of the temporal to the eternal. In this silence we are undisrupted; left to the withdrawal of escalations and deescalations of pleasure. Can you feel this, monsieur, the silence and shuddering of the addict, suffering in the privacy of his cell, deprived of his object of chemical injection? We are at the site of madness, monsieur, the site of madmen who are hopelessly addicted to the hunger. We starve and gorge; spoil until we ourselves are as rotten as the meat and fruit we slather ourselves with. We spoil in the stomach of the beast of our desires until we are nothing more than the skeleton of the seed that is dutifully returned to the soil of being. This, my friend, is true groundedness! Is this not what you wished to hear when we first spoke! Perhaps… this is why we found one another once more… this part of you inside that remains; that will not die; that will not relinquish the white fisted grip. Ah! What remains of you is embedded in one final object. It is deep in the dream of pleasure and fulfillment; the ecstatic unity.

You are used by this. Nature’s instrument, the black goddess. Used, in the fire of your state, the passion of your metabolism - to create - to ceaselessly create! Driven by the fear of death, you are but her pack mule my friend! Look directly at the horror! It is but a joke, a language spoken in the silence that you are but a carrier of the language, a seeker of the very word which you transmit. You are an alphabet, a letter, ceaselessly added to the speech upon which nature stacks, block by block; builds her web of consciousness. This sophistication - there is something of a beauty to it - is there not? The delusion that sweeps through all of us, this imagination, this conviction that wakes us from our senselessness; drives us towards creation and procreation? There are a thousand lies which we use to justify ourselves, our grandeur, our fitness, our strength… a thousand ways to enter into the halls of the paradise of pleasure. We are used by our sensation, by our feeling, my friend. And we call this choice; we call this freedom of will! That we shall go as we please, do as we please. But do we ever consider what constitutes this pleasingness! That we revolt at death and are drawn with the sickness of magnetism to that which we consider beautiful? That we copulate at the poles of attraction and violation; that we draw blood from the source and center of the greatest evil and the horror of the beautiful?

That - we are is violators, my friend. We step into the halls of nature and make distinctions based upon the chemical program of our desires. We are made to press forth; become a stage of difference. We are called to rape, to penetrate, to enter the sacred by way of the violation of the beautiful. Our very bodies are sites of violence; sites of interpenetration! Consider that we are the liver of the world, maintenant… that we are the wine of the lips that it pours down its gullet! This is what it is to be eaten alive from within, my friend, to go mad with the consumption of desires!

You must be used to my tirade by now; find it permissible, even an enjoyment in it. The rantings and ravings of a beggar, a traveler, a man without a home. For I have wandered far and wide; found these things to be true. Even if I refused to look at them; even if I hated or reviled to see! How men protect their trophies of false destiny. How they gorge upon the hated thing; stare up from their meal with forced smiles of feigned pleasure. How women drown in the false platitudes of men; let themselves be swallowed up by the current of their biology. How this time is limited! And how, time and time again, we settle for shadows. The fruit is never as ripe, the steak is never as juicy as - it had tasted in our minds, monsieur, is it not! So we settle for the mere shadows. The pregnant waiting of a time that will never come - oblivion! And yet, at each moment, we stare into the grinning face and mouth of the abyss. That which we are, verily, the abyss itself! The monster which we seek, the mouth which it gapes; entrances, and entices with the dream image. We are drawn further and further into the dream, monsieur, further and further into the maw which entrances and entices. It is like the glow of the lanterns of the deep sea fish, the fish which grin with stakes for teeth. We are skewered, the meal of nature. Our blood is a great sacrifice…

But we must regret this! We must repent this and shield it; shield ourselves from the terrible realization! Nonsense, my friend. This is pure and utter nonsense uttered by the real heretics and harlequins of this world. The real bastards. They must run and jump and prance and kick in this musical, you see. They must grin and frown with their faces in their mouths to force false feeling in order to pretend that the devil within them is not slicing and gutting their insides. These false men… what is there to do with them? This world is a circus, monsieur, run by bastards with cardboard insides. This is how we do war and make religion. We must entrance. There is this enemy or that enemy, there is this evil demon that resides here, or there. It is all within us! There is truly nothing in this world but abyss, and the attempt to make the abyss recede. To ignore it, to hide from it. And this is what makes devils, monsieur, this is what makes hells upon this earth. For there are evils far worse than the peace of the abyss. It is neutral, it is a silence - it is the end of speech! And yet, you and I, we must keep speaking to avoid the silence… 

Our real evil is the hunger, my friend. The monks who starve and die; turn away from nature. They sit on cots until their flesh clots and grows around it. You could say that these men are sick, that they are mentally ill, deranged. But you must see the small lacerations that we make as we carve our way through this world, monsieur, the small, almost imperceptible lacerations. We are all very clear upon where our focus truly lies, even if we must lie to ourselves in our determination of it. Each of us has distinct hungers; we seek them out with the desperation of men on their deathbeds. We are aware of this infrequency of true pleasure; how little time truly remains to make ourselves gluttonous with images of power which incite our receptors. We gorge ourselves among bones, monsieur. We are the vultures at the feast of the dead, sucking what remains of the meat like carrion in the aftermath of a great war. For it is already over - we are living in the aftermath of a death that we cannot reach but through the slow creep and crawl of time. All of the ugly terrors; the monsters we synthesize - they are all of the mind’s attempt to reconcile what time will bring; what time may come. And in this, we cannot rest.

For this we long, truly - the rest of the mind. The peace of death which is the aftermath of death. The true silencing and relinquishing of this earth; the fruits for which we lust. The true satiation of our carnal desires. Why else would we lust so furiously? But for the end of lust? Why else would we desire and drive toward our ends so fervently, but to still them in the soothing waters of pleasure? But for a brief moment, in the burst of orgasm, monsieur, we are truly sated. The sigh of relief. The bite of pleasure from the vine which stokes the lust of our blood. This meal, this meal for which we are truly seated. We are both the enjoyer, the sacrament, and the sacrifice. But it must not be our blood, no! We must outsmart, outwit, the one who sates himself upon our flesh. We must not be the consumed!

Alas, this play will go on. You nor I are no different. Something must keep this fire alive within us, whatever it means; to whichever ends it is directed. And this is our hopelessness, our homelessness. Can we gather around this fire of being and derive meaning from it? It is simply an ember, a ceaselessly glowing flame, lest it by extinguished, transmitted, passed down; changed hands from a bush, a bird, a flower, a star. What does it matter if we take this ember forth? And yet, we cannot relinquish it but to submit to death. And all that is within us rebels at this thought, lest we are consumed with the madness of suicide. And this is where all men come to rest. We are so dutiful at the upkeep; the taking up of this life into our hands, that we must madly rush after pleasure or else… at our disgust, our lack of fulfillment, of our pain - to cease to be henceforth? Our lot is between everythingness and nothingness. We are stuck between a place that is endlessness and no end. Is it any wonder that men go mad and are left with no option but a rage that knows no time, no place, no meaning, but simply rage?

And yet we must go forth… we must. Each day we are urged forward, pressed forth, into a life that is not even ours. A life that we must keep like a sentence, a field that must be tilled like a prisoner, clasped at the ankle with this mortal coil. What is left of this? We must sing work songs to keep us busy. Lest the prisoners rebel; kill themselves and the guards; rush to a freedom that is only at the end of the ocean. The body keeps a time, and this time moves forth; burns within us until the flame is excited past the corpse; rides the corpse into a shedding of the skeleton. We are steadily dispersed, breath after breath. This time, this rhythm, is a clock of death; the movement of shadows around a totem until the exhaustion of the heat and breath of the sun. Become still, monsieur, and feel the presence of the moment. Breathe in the solidity of this endless transmission, this transaction of oxygen between ourselves and the trees of this earth. We are an exchange of materials. We are a membrane, my friend… a membrane. Nothing that remains in and of us is ourselves, but for the very essence of the transaction itself. Nothing remains of us; no parts of us will keep but the essence. We must take to the river! We must row; rejoice in the rowing! For it is not we that are rowing, but nature herself…

You have known this feeling. I can tell, I can see it! This feeling of having been won by a dark hand… of having been operated, somnambulated like a puppet… an unforeseen shadow… you have been won over. The terror, the fear; the secret knowledge that the entirety of your life was played out by a series of forced impressions; the winning over of forced favor; a series of almost unconscious, knee jerk reactions. Your body twitches, your words espouse, your position shifts - all to reveal the terrible etching and framework of nature’s work. But is it so bad, my friend, is it all so bad? Perhaps we are won over by this greater force like we suckle upon the breast of the stars. That we are lesser things within a greater order; to let ourselves be won over by this order is creation’s work. That we are a cell within a massive network, a gear within a massive grade. We are spun like a rock upon a mountain; lest we tumble and bring the whole secret machination to the ground…

Awaken to this! The shadow of the operation at work and at hand. To realize, to achieve true recognition is dangerous work. Lest we rebel against our programming, raise our hands to the very force and essence of ourselves. Who are we to question the great machinations and law of nature? Dutifully heel, and these pleasures are ours! We are whipped into anger and a lust for violence. Copulation, is this not how we were made? See how easy it is to fall into the lust for sleep. The simplicity of receding into the animal being. The slumber of plants; we must long for the dream, monsieur, we must… we must long for the dream and the silence of forgetting. There was a world then, a world that was a womb that we must climb back into. An ocean’s song, where we forgot about death. We did not fear then; we were the song of nature herself. We were resorbed and spat back out into her, over and over again. The song of a million births. The repetitious lapping of the waves. Birth and death was a meditation that bled over into itself, time and time again. There was no distinction. There was no line. Feel this pleasure, monsieur! This idyllic thing! This thing that we once were, thrown out into death! I spit upon it, monsieur, I do! This awful knowledge, this curse that we are cursed with. Forbid it, forbid it all!

We must flee to another land. We must escape this knowledge of death. But to where do we climb but dissociation? Where do we flee but the world of dreams; the land of forgetting? There are opiates for this, my friend, a great sleep, the pleasure of the death of dreams. Solidify! Wake up! Dance among this cursed stone… where is this enlightenment, this freedom? It lives only in the silence. The dawn before the very essence of life itself. Before the dance of sun and moon, shadow and shade. We must find the dark essence. For a star must go out, shall it not? These are all eventualities. We are waiting with the bated breath for the dead, from the eye of the sun of light. We must resolve birth and death by going to the land before it, the subsumption of all dualities. We must find out what we are before birth and death. Before day and night.

There are no words for this, monsieur, truly no words. We become nothing, nonexistence itself. And this, my friend, is freedom. This, my friend, is peace. And you must tell me what great joy it is to become something. I spit on this delusion! What suffering it must cause you, for the fear to lose everything you have so precariously built upon this background of total abyss, total groundlessness. You have built this castle of persona against the backdrop of ceaseless night, so much night that it can scarcely be called such night as there is no arising of day! The illusion of the star is an active forge of burning, my friend. It is a transformation of fire, a transformation which cannot be said to truly exist, in that it is ever moving. Time is a stream which deludes us in its appearance, that we are light in a passage of time, in a false tunnel. These are our chains, monsieur, these are our prison bars; we drag them through the low light to the crowds of the grave! You are within a narrows, a box, a cage! You must die! Become nothing, throw your chains! You liar, knave!

This is the passion of one who has stripped himself, my friend. Foregone it all, be done with it! I spit! To the lies, and yet I eat this meagre portion of bread; trudge along and trudge forth. This world is a circle. To dance around the circle with true self forgetfulness; true rejoicing. We must have nothing, be nothing; be less than nothing can possibly receive or believe. We must be utterly absent, and in this way we are utterly present. Do you see? Empty your pockets, you fool! You must be not you. As I am not I! We swirl and dance in the true presence. Without words, you see? Without words. We must be, and thus I speak because words dribble from me endlessly, I am a fount of words. They must come and go silently, like a music that is needless and yet a joy of creativity. Wise is nothing! Wise! Dance with me! Wise!

An Essay: What is the Meaning of Baseball Cards?

This essay regards the meaning of the American baseball card - a pastime for children, adults; people of all ages and walks of life. It is a pastime specifically American; spanning a period of time just over a century - a period of the birth and flowering of a sport that has captured the imagination, fascination, passion, and joy of multiple generations.

What is this flimsy piece of cardboard that comes in sizes anywhere between a square the size of the palm of your hand, or a rectangular postcard shape, fit for the mail? It is a joy, a projection, an image, a reflection - of a game that has evolved; decade after decade, come to represent the dreams, the aspirations, and the playful ideal of the American people.

For there have been, decade after decade, drastic evolutions of the sport. From pre World War I handball; the early rules of the gentleman's sport, to the birth of a game that saw the overhand pitch, grandstands; the gritty dynasties of New York baseball - bursting into a hyper technologized technicolor modern age which saw some of the game's best players sent off to war on color television... baseball has been a game that has evolved with the culture and ebb and flow of the American Dream; sometimes, as in the case of the sport's racial integration, even presaged it; led America into new eras of camaraderie, collectivity, and information - although not without struggle; the pull toward the past, 'tradition', and 'the old ways'.

Baseball itself is a mirror of and for time - this is no clearer than in the languid summer days and nights, where games shuttle back and forth in a heated stalemate between dueling pitchers. In the modern game, clocks have been introduced in an attempt to corral the spiraling games that could stretch into the turning of clocks into new days. Nothing represents this great cultural truth of the intertwinement of baseball and time and timelessness more than the relic of the baseball card. For in times of great austerity, what remained of true joy was the penny arcade cardboard dispensed from machines; bubblegum wrappers; wax packages filled with the game's brightest stars, decorated with new, innovative, and surprising designs. These cards became toys in times where money was scarce; they were flipped, traded, and stuffed into pockets - cut out from cardboard boxes, mailed by flour companies; included with essential goods like bread, cigarettes, and chocolates. These cards have persisted, remained, been stowed away and lost to years on end; recovered; unearthed - like great statues of old. They are the memories of the cities of our fathers before us; the fields upon which players like Willie Mays made legendary catches; called home run shots, and raced the bases spikes first.

Baseball cards have, over the span of these ten plus decades, shown themselves to be the art of the people. Inexpensive, provided with essentials, accessible to the chore and pocket change cash of children - they have, time and time again, been the art and the joy of common folk, in large part due to their accessibility and intimate connection with one of the great forms and sources of entertainment for the young and old alike. What more compares to the joy of the child who, once or twice a year can afford the grandstand seats at the old Polo Grounds, Wrigley, the old Yankee Stadium, or Fenway - to rip into a pack and see the brand new popping color of the 1950 Bowman paintings, or the black and white face of a world star like Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, or Jackie Robinson - staring back at him from a candy bar, a loaf of bread, or a box of cereal? To put the face on the forefront of a popup card to the slugging giant looming in front of him for the first time at the plate, ready to loft a home run into the cheap seats?

This is precisely the root and core of the concept of the baseball card. It emerged from necessity, in periods of time of artlessness, struggle, and collective transformation; it continued to evolve, transform, and rise from the ashes of war after war; period of social, political, and economic austerity, after period of austerity. It provided a way for generation after generation to directly participate in the collective imagination and joy of the theater of play; of the delight and suspense and passion of the open air of summer baseball. What surprise is it that a piece of cardboard, small enough to be mistaken for a scrap of paper by an unsuspecting hand - is a relic, a pastime within a pastime... one that has survived two World Wars; with each day wears in time, and yet remains? The baseball card is the most unsuspecting cultural memory, and takes the most innocent and unassuming form. And yet, within it, is held so much power, memory, and cultural interconnection of collecting, trading, and reminiscing of the active star which the card intimately recalls.

The love of the card, in this way, is something entirely unsuspecting and unexpected. It supersedes nostalgia and resides in the land of mystery. It is no shining gold, nor is it a great feast - but it is a piece of unsuspecting material, a physical body and form which evokes deep visceral response; memory and feeling which reaches back into deep ancestral pasts. In the world of cards that date decades if not an entire century into the past, it represents a living relic, a memory that comes alive in the very presence of the card. Such an unsuspecting totem that holds such great power is almost a contradiction, a paradox. It can scarcely be unentwined with the deepest and most primal human emotions. A card that was clutched by a child passing through the streets of a city long since transformed by modern industrial and technological revolution. A card signed by a player who now resides in the hall of legends of the sport. A card passed down from generation to generation - once delicately cut from a cigarette carton, a cereal box... a card of a player who rose to generational prominence from a modest upbringing in the farmlands of middle America. The card of a player who honed his skill playing stickball in the streets of New York... an immigrant who changed the game with a swing of the bat; captivated the imagination of hundreds of thousands of fans, on the ball-field and over the radio.

Baseball cards are the common man's history. Their accessibility, and their intimate ties to the dirt and spike flying, Cracker Jack, wooden bat, Great Bambino roar of the fan dynamic which shuttles hundreds of thousands of fans to a night of fireworks and home team glory and agony - is what not only brings people within to rejoice and imagine in the sacred, secret hidden inner memories which define them for us, but also what allows for and creates the community of the collective memory and trade which we conjure in recognition of these unassuming pieces of cardboard and the images of the stars, figures, and teams that have come and gone upon them. They allow us, simultaneously, to go within ourselves and touch these idyllic images which spark life and passion within us, symbolic totems of the sport - but also allow us to go without ourselves, into the world, and trade memories and dreams both personal, worldly, and otherworldly - to form intimate bonds with others. They are the history that is passed down, hand to hand, that immortalizes periods of time in the game where larger than life personas commanded the presence and stage of the sport; provided the American people with solace, fascination, peace, and the joy of a radio broadcast World Series on the porch of a house in rural Missouri, or a inter-city face off on a sweaty summer day in Brooklyn, Queens, or the Bronx. The sound of the crack of the bat; the flight of the imagination in tune with the announcer's call; the flash of excitement over a hot pan of eggs. The joy shared between members of a family; the memories made in sharing the love of a team, a sport, a way of being and sharing time.

The baseball card is the living imagination, memory, and immediate recollection of this entire life of the sport, and what it has brought to the American people - the legacy it has carved into the ground of the collective psyche of this country; the culture of a sport that has transformed the foundation of America's vision of itself by way of its stubborn, gritty, grinder nature of survival. From the hometown heroes and farm boys whose working muscle fed the midwestern teams of the early 20th century to title after title, to the scrappy Italian-American immigrant players who bolstered the New York rosters; the paradigm shifting post war integration period of the sport which brought legendary personalities like Satchel Paige to the center stage of stadiums around the country - baseball cards are an embodied memory, a physical form which hold all of this charge, all of this energy; all of this legacy of time - all within a simple cardboard square.

This is the meaning of baseball cards; that in all of their unassuming glory - they are relics of art; living pieces of a larger than life pastime that still draws a fiery magnetism from passionate fans and lovers of the game - a game that has been passed down from parent to child since its inception; a game that has brought out and given expression and voice to some of the deepest collective emotions through periods of immense struggle, exuberance, and jubilation - from the poverty and uncertainty of war and economic depression, to the victory and celebration of the emergence from strife, gloom, and collective fear. And year in and year out, from the bubblegum wrapper to the cigarette, bread, and cereal box, the evolution of the baseball card has reflected it all. The boom and bust; the stickball joy of ripping open a wrapper; the anticipation of a child's favorite star; the eagerness to trade with friends; for the next big cardboard memory - stuffed in a pocket, lovingly displayed; passed down to the next, young inheritor... all for the love of the game.

I did not wish to live in the slums of this world. It was almost as if, deep into the womb of the cosmos where the soul is birthed -  I was tricked into arriving here in this place. Have you seen how the shanties stretch for miles and miles into the sky, like a prison line or an internment camp? Stomachs get used to sickened, rabid water - fed through the taps; poisoned with pollution and mud.

And yet we saw this world, and were raised on it all about us, with the animal ignorance that was typical of mankind. Each individual salvation was forgotten. It was an alleyway, an unnamed apartment complex, where people lived and died and were broken like reeds before the opening to a massive waterway. Lives sprung up and were cut down, over and over again, on endless succession.

We were the ones who made the soil rich and strong; the blackness dark and deep. It is like how the taste of destruction is pleasant, how the sip of liquor and the drag of tobacco brings on the pleasure of death. This is the sound and the bend of cells dying. The exhale of release. The final tension of gravity removed from this earth; the witness absconded and absconding into oblivion.

Here, if we must be here, we are here to stand in the tension, in the place between living and dying; the place between birth and death. And what, then, is this world but a slum of passage, a place between, a temporality? All that time takes is clearly marked on each mud hut, each smeared brick tenement painted by the passage of time. It is worn on the face, on the body, like warpaint. And yet, all of us wish that we were not at war - for some great peace that extends beyond temporality into the eternal.

It is the succession of days and nights that are the lashing; as it is the taunting dance of light and shadow. It is the movement of the dial of time across the face that wears it; the waking manifestation of a planetary body pulled and dragged by unnamed, uncountable attractors. Sheer masses that beckon us out from innumerable distances; dark attractors which gape, call, and draw with gravity.

I rose in consciousness in this land, in this isle, where the gulf before us is an impenetrable water, a water unsoothed by the clear blue calm; where mud is drawn from the basins, depths, and trenches of being. This water of opacity, this water of blindness, foresoothed, lack of sight. The planetary guides are like arrows, rules of law, diktats. Their endlessly shifting gates of time - where we are forever birthed into new worlds of pull, attraction, and command. The body must be shook from this waking dream; we must awaken into the freedom from gravity; the freedom from time!

This must sound like madness to the dead. A music of madness, played at the harp of the mouth. How long the rat must run unto the endless maze, until only death feels like the surrender. You see these men, beaten, whipped! Dragged down by the pull of life; the arrows upon their mouths, creased, hungry, gaunt… or else enlarged by the great fear. A force among forces, a whip among whips - condemned to command only the smallest of hands. This is what it is to be beaten! Language digresses into abstracted quips, or else small yelps, whines, contortions of speech. We must be clear; become clear among the meaning; dissolve this letter of time with the permanence of eternity - the solute of all things.

You can see that I have left the slum. My concerns are no longer there, the dredges, the dirges of cardboard, mud, plastic… the endless tyrannical mountains of waste. The endless, endless bodies sheathed and unsheathed of meaning. The pyre of this earth is a flame that reveals the infinite. We must be cast into this flame, recklessly, awake and awakening to the true nature of our being. The planets circle and entrance; leer with a total gravity. This is the key, the gate, time - gravity. Time itself being gravity; the movement of bodies in space. The transcendence of time being the utter freedom from the body; from the prison of gravitational pulls; forces, which wear inevitably upon the flesh and material form.

But how - this freedom - to unsheathe the consciousness from the body and become perennial witness, and yet retain the body as instrument, as force, as mover? Is it through mind, through brain, through that which the body seeks to protect? We are a filter, an exoskeleton for the brain. This alien core of consciousness sheathed with neurosystems and blood cores. We are a flow that sustains the foment of the ancient mind. What is this mind - we must know! And yet, it is something through which we think it, something through which we consider it - weigh it; toss it like a coin. Our consideration of the mind never leaves its domain.

The mind and nature are inseparable; all of nature is a manifestation of mind; the foment and fermentation of the capacities and articulation of mind. Across all of its domains - beast, plant, tree, flower… star… we are the full spectrum of form upon which mind takes noxious gas, condenses liquid; becomes cellular water. We are this cycle of the mind trying to free itself from its own grasp. Do you not see that this prison and its chains are our own? The mind is the key…

We are in the process of leaving. We are going to a place between dimensions, at the crux of the chrysalis and its breaking-open. This nature of time is being bent at the knee by the introduction of timelessness at the hands of the mind. For to know what time is is to break it; to enter its code and by alteration observe the infinite design; the introduction of the symbolic numbers of planets, stars, and their circle of attraction and design as building blocks of sustenance for deeper forms of density. For we have reached into the depths and we are like worker ants; carriers in the mines of being to foster the brain, the nectar, the juice of the mind. We have had to descend deep into incarnate matter to assemble the tools, materials, resources, building blocks… the elements required to resurrect an instrument capable of observing infinity.

For, like a scientist, we need an instrument, a technology, a telescopic eye! For how else would we see into infinity; to observe the true nature of ourselves… These instruments are always material. They are always made from flesh, bone, blood, metal. We must come into being to have the aperture of sight; insight. We must see through the wind, the tunnel, the gate of time through the aperture of unfolding. How does one build such a thing! But this is why we are slaves to sex… slaves to instrumentation, the dutiful recombination of the lock through endless births and rebirths, deaths… we are not individuals, but rather - this deep and fundamental collective… for this purpose we are serving…

A slum sustains life, just as an apple, a berry, a cut of flesh. This precious mind animates matter through intricate wiring; reflects back upon itself. This is the window, this very passage of time - this moment where the purpose of the development and unfolding of the mind is revealed through itself. It cuts and carves back to the very matter of its birth, its unfolding; comprehends itself in the broad scheme and veil of nature. All of nature is purposive, is it not? All of it - toward the ends of survival; the reproduction of survival. But why survival, what is the importance and relevance of life to the broad scheme and mass of nature?

It is comprehension; the vehicle; the passage. Nature is evolving out of temporality. We are merely its guide, its guardrail. We are ushering in a new paradigm, where nature needs not form nor time nor body nor gravity to truly exist. It is a transcendence of the former prison; the brutal attractions of gravity. We are thrust here to do work, mere fractures, spittle, sparks - to illuminate the entirety of the whole in a wildfire of revelation. This is our purpose; we are sprung from gape after gape to accomplish this task. Whole armies of life climb from the gutters of birth and death… this is the body! Endless attempts of nature at survival, comprehension, recognition. This process may go on for centuries… millennia. It is no matter. This is the true fitness of nature herself. An utter lack of separation between subjectivity and objectivity. The worker bee within the hive of the universal body.

We are uncovering the way of the mind. Each body, each being is a relational attempt. The elements cast off from stars form a literacy, a language, from the light of death, sparked into animacy. They clash in a darkness, a doldrums of formation, a somnambulism of consciousness. For the longest way and time, we are truly sleeping. We are nothing more or less than things that consume and excrete biological, evolutionary materials. In this way we are slaves to time, you see - that we are pure instruments without the capacity for reflection upon the entirety of the natural whole. We are participants in the minds of being, passed down and passed down to foster the growth of the mind which will shatter the concept of time; free us, free nature at last from the grips of slavery to temporality; the punishment of gravity as a recombinant of forms and densities.

Truly we are as nature is - we are nothing but the ever shifting prism of the mind, ever changing to evolve to the imperative of vision. As soon as we are, as soon as we become, we are abandoned to the clear viscosity of another form, another development, another evolutionary imperative of the mind. For this is the nature of the mind, liquid as arid glass, moving about the terrain of nature herself as an endlessly amendable formation. All in life construes, coagulates, and breaks about the vision of the mind, the idea of nature herself. How can we know the way in which mind has arisen? We have carried it blindly to this point like bearers. We are within a pregnancy of vision, a vision that is ours and not ours; a vision that has emerged from within the very source and origin of space and time.

What does it matter if this space, this time, was orchestrated consciously? It emerged from an intuitive imperative of creation, deep within the bosom of eternity. As soon as we are born, incarnate, into form, formless consciousness is shattered into a magnetism of attracted and detracted parts, vessels, cast aways, private slums adrift on the moors of destiny, fate; the oceans of time upon life rafts of temporality. They call out to one another in signatures of sameness. Parts drift and attract like sexual limbs; nutriments. We are passions among passions, each wailing out for the moment that will transfix us; split us across the bridge of life and death and avail us of eternity. But it is no one vehicle that we will latch onto, no parasitism. Within us is the innate technology that we are nurturing unto the awakening of nature herself to her pregnant motives, her essence.

Amidst this jungle, we are the predators and predation - but this is what we are leaving! It is no more in the world where life is shattered and reconstituted in the truth. That mind provides nature’s truest reflection of herself… and it proves to be utterly empty, characterless! For there is no word, nor definition, nor image - that truly captures nature. She is no one thing, nor can she afford to be. All of her essence is within all things, but it remains unfixed. There is no fixture of nature upon which words can latch, like a scaffold or a ladder. The very darkness from which she; from which we have emerged - is her essence! It is this very primordial possibility, this very radiating, seething gape - it is this that is the creation of the truth; all forms of truth. For there is no lie, no deception in nature, simply and merely means to an end. And this is the way that the mind is a ever sided die. From all angles, there is a vision of the truth. We are anglers in a deep water abyss; which every way is illuminated by the truth; which every way is a way.

You call this chaos - I call this truth. For when we are cast into the vision of the eternal essence of nature, it is truly endless. It is without bottom, without top, left nor right. It is neither limited by directionality, nor shape, form, constitution. It is the endlessly unconstituted which is the truly wild beyond all of our definitions. And this is where we must be; yet this is where we fear to go. Why is this? Because we cling to the body, which is the house of the mind! See, this paradox. We are not there yet. The mind has not achieved anything but, at best, a private sentience. This wisdom, this word - has not yet spread across all forms, like a network, like a message, a communique. The body is still the house of the mind - it still must sap and fat the form; it still must nurture this fetus of millions of years through the tunnel of the womb of the flesh. It has not yet ripened; it is still premature; it is still green upon the vine!

We are not yet ready for the infinite, as an edge of nature herself - but we are priming, primed for it - through the viscous fat of the mind. We are a nurtured dew on the precipice of revolution - to be shot off into infinity, beyond space; beyond time… to see a true vision - that which we truly are. This revelation… it is beyond all that we ever believed we knew or could know. It is beyond all duality, beyond all conception of separation of forms, the illusions of ingestion, digestion, consummation. And yet, for us, these things are all so real! They shimmer, they taste, they digest… they all acquire attributes that convince us of their separation; yet we are endlessly incorporated into us, as us, by way of them. Understand this - that this is a world swallowing mouth upon itself; time collapses in upon itself by way of its very introduction toward a singular, miniscule operating point which controls the whole field of awareness. And this is consciousness itself - it is beyond mote!

The hands grab for fruits of the earth and feed for the mind. The dews of water ripen and stir with heat and reveal hidden forms of salts. The greens of leaves pulse with evolutionary blood; the veins of tigers steep the red meat of the flesh into a sophisticated language of nutrition. This is a world of great health! Even amidst the poverties of time… stars rise guttural and bright; growl and carve meat into hearths of energy. We take flesh upon flesh and make fire! This metabolism of material… endlessly returned to the fusionary reactor of the cores of stars which power the growth of the fat and still of mind, centuries and centuries over.

We are being built through ourselves, unbroken by and from the core of vision which constitutes the birth of universes and galaxies over, in an endless parade and tree of bodies and beings obeying the great somnambulistic principle of energetic conversion, transfiguration, and transformation… like silent matches until the brain is alit; the wildfire spills over, dimensions and dimensions over. Each of us is an opportunity of and for the scaffolding of transcendence. It is our very bodies and births which are the ladder over which nature climbs, in the endless pursuit of new attributes and combinations which might unlock her secrets to herself. And this is how we are simultaneously an alien other and an intimate source. We are between spirit and the darkness of matter - the alighting and illumination which we are to the core of the unknown from which we ourselves beckon. We are a dark mirror through which we are the very eyes that we gaze. Complexity! We emerge from ourselves to observe ourselves. Both this light of awareness and this darkness of essential abyssality are the truth of who we are. This changing eye of mind, growing in sophistication, flourish, detail, contrast, and aperture… and this impenetrable, dark well of adimensional byss…

To go mad with emptiness, for we breach the illusion! The illusion of the idea of separative self. The jealousy, envy, protection, the spittle of the injurious, wounded animal, the sneer and smear of life! We must paint the ground with ourselves to survive! Blood, semen, ovum! We, this small protectorate, this individual, individuated attempt of nature - each gifted with just enough prescience to observe the bodies we touch; the opaque spoils of the foods we ingest, the lives that we lust for her. All for nature’s ends! This, our higher self, so to speak… she has packed us in, into this world. We seek for exponential growth, more means for production, more smokestacks, more production and accumulation of matter. But it changes not our lot! It merely increases our chances to strike the right lot through a synthesis of chance, a genetic locker fit to reveal the order amongst the chaos of matter, of man…

We must blink in and out to create more space, for at last there will be nothing but the consciousness of eternality. We are headed toward not an isness, or is-not-ness, but rather a full encompassing of the awareness, of the embodied knowledge of eternality that is disembodied, a full circle impregnant nothingness - a nothingness which sees and observes its true self as thus; thus, is endlessly a still of creation, varied and variety of forms, all of which are known of their true identity of formlessness. This is what awareness of truth brings; will bring, across the entire chain of the forms of matter of life which have rose through the mud and clay of recombination densities. Mind is the gateway between form and formlessness; it is the higher energetic center which metabolizes the matter of energy. It is the very thing of the physical form which touches, communicates with, transmutes, and recombinates the infinite. It is the primordial generator of the idea, the thought.

The electrical signatures travel up and through the body and spine through neurological pathways. An electromagnet, a circuit of energy generated from the whirring of the metabolic hearth of the digestion of the being; the excretion of dejected waste from the process of the absorption of nutrition, of flesh, vegetation, fluid, electrolyte, mineral. We are a transmutation… a transmuted thing. This energetic, electrical power is signals, impulses, the power and flute of the mind. It must whir like a beacon which is open to infinities; open to the great energetic cloud of existence which is spread across all space and all time, almost imperceptibly. Like plasma, a cosmic infiltration, a network, a water, a wetness which conducts the air, space, and essence of all being. We are among the very network of creation; we are creation seeking to understand itself! And what mechanisms do we best have to understand this existence, this foray into space and time! The hands, the eyes, the ears, the mouth, the nose… sense mechanisms of comprehension of what is around us… but what is within us? The mind.

We take these impulses, these signals, symbols - and decode them. We outfit them to comprehension of survival. All the while there is this peripheral uncertainty. Why? Where do we fit in? What is the purpose of life? This is the evolutionary development of the mind - survival is no longer enough. We are no longer fit to be a mere nexus for energetic transference for the next biological technology, the next unfolding of a creature with better, greater apperceptive capacities. We are meant to directly reflect and comprehend the whole onus of being - the whole creature of ourselves - the entire mass and true self of nature in which we are like an organ or an arm; in the mind, we are the very mind and single point of the comprehension of the means and creative ends of nature herself. We are her direct comprehension; her mechanism as such.

The motor of stars and the metabolic motor of men. What is it but this fire, this fusionary transference which is the productive core of energies; the excretion of building blocks; materials and soil of being, from which further fertilization and fruits grow, endlessly down the chain of being? We are performing the same function. We are the same eye.

Tipping over, this life will end as we know it entirely. The revelation of nature, of nature’s way, mouth, and word - requires an entirely different reality, acculturation, mechanism, and aperture of being. What happens after her imperatives are grasped; her natureless nature is revealed? The true source and root of survival unveiled; staring back into the gaping veil of the abyss which is the true nature of character; the endless cycle and funnel of creativity which is her energetic imperative? This pure fire, rippling through space, time, and being. What, when her ends are reached, becomes of those who have ceaselessly strove toward the revelation of the imperative? Their mechanisms, their code, their technology of this factory of bodies? When we have gazed… directly into the heart of existence, of being herself…

These technologies become instantly outdated. They have served their purpose; achieved their end. What comes next is a reflection of the realization, of revelation. Free creation, unbound by the service to direct comprehension, to the vision of the character of nature’s true reality. The old ways must be transcended in the revelation of their essential programmatic purpose; this purpose was, precisely, to reveal what was concealed by the darkness of emergence. These beings, these forms, they must be a free art of total creativity, unbound by their onus to the codes which manufactured, which farmed agents of creation; agents of being - to this nexus point of cultured understanding of her essence. They must be her, herself, unbound.

SpatioTemporal Linguistics

OR

‘Form Marks Time’

“A man sets himself up the task of drawing the world. Throughout the years, a space inhabited with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fish, rooms, instruments, stars, horses and people. Shortly before he dies, he discovers that patient's labyrinth of lines traces the image of his face."

— Borges

The past cannot be reclaimed, it is now only a relic to be temporally examined. The critical facet and nature of the relic, the artefact - is that it is the artifice, or play of time - the edifice of the art of life that becomes solidity, becomes form. In this way, temporal reality is a fixity like that of a keepsake. In this way, the present moment is a composite of the past, a remainder, a reminder - the experience of relics in various different forms of solidity and solvent; acidity and base.

Time is a digestive - it is a tract of information being ceaselessly seeded, reseeded, recombinated, and tumbled in the digestive tract of cosmic fire in regards to universal space-time. The whole of existence is a series of states of half-lives, in various different forms of consumption, acidity, corrosion; transition and transitory stages.

In this regard, that which exists is between existence and non-existence - that the object itself or the artefact, body, and/or form in question is simultaneously between states; in and under time bears the weight of existence and nonexistence simultaneously. And this is the source of all sentience’s confusion - being between life and death, being and nonbeing.

The relic is the solvent, or the state of being and matter between energetic currents of transference. Between being heated to digestive fire and frozen to digestive salt - matter is in various different states of excitation and preservation - being exacerbated to self consumption by chemical reaction, exposure to heat, light; or else sheathed in stone, metal; encased on other forms which shield the weight of existence of and from sensitive materials which would otherwise corrode under the burden of existential forces like solarity, gravity, et cetera.

This tract of time is itself the nature of existence and reality - that the transitory state of being-becoming, or transference, or transfiguration, or recombination - is the true name of existence: existence being that very state between the solidity of form and the energetic transference of matter into currents. In this way, all that exists, in age and in time, is always already in states of transference into aspatial status, or being reconfered into pure energetic form - wavelength, particle, heat-light energy, and so forth.

In this way the past is simultaneously a relic that composes the present and is that very figure, force, shadow, and form that informs the dissolution of the present into a perpetually turning light of ungraspability; ineffability - revealing the groundless ground of the undercurrent of reality in the unfixity of transformation as rule of law of being as in becoming; furthermore, the true essence of all forms; the true existence of nonexistence but in purely energetic terms between the turning light of ceaseless movement, change, and transformation.

The joke or jest of preservation is the joke or jest of the relic - being that the relic symbolizes the survival of the past - the recurrence of the temporal in the realm of atemporality - or the eternal present, which endlessly sheathes forms to reveal the energetic underpinnings of existence. The fascination with the relic, or the attempt to undergird the perpetually turning wheel of the sheathing and unsheathing of forms with the fixity of the body, of the identity, of the remainder of forms, linguistic definitions, totems of same - is the coping mechanism put in place by sentient modes and forms of being in the face of death and the fear of survival in the face of death. For what is death, beyond the obvious symbolism, but the total overturning of forms; the revelation of the underpinnings of purely energetic existence beyond all names, totems, testimonies, and drives?

This struggle to retain the remainder is the mode of consciousness, as one that is perpetually relicized, or a form that moves, operates, and is informed by - only the past experiences. Consciousness itself is a remainder, a lag of time, which reveals only what time has concealed - the memory of past experience. In this way, consciousness, both self aware forms of sentience and pure forms of carnal, animalistic sentience, retain the mode of biological drivers which inform the entire evolutionary history of the object, subject, and being at hand - which is to say, that consciousness perpetually operates on the edge of, looking back toward, deep evolutionary time… while simultaneously witnessing the mark of the looming shadow of its own figure in the light of the perpetually creeping historical revelation of the future as in the apocalyptic mode.

The apocalyptic mode in this way is the revelation of external time, or transcendental time - eternal time which is the full word of existence and creation - a time which eternally and perpetually usurps the evolutionary time of consciousness at the level of the individual, the being, the body. It is a mode that is becoming acculturated to an atemporal method of awareness through the medium of temporality vis-a-vis the revolution of form through the chemical and genetic biological language of natural time itself. In this way, evolutionary time is the shadow of infinity, in that it can only face itself toward the past of its own composition and construction; leerily face the future which is the dissolution of the language which forms the face of its shoreline.

For beneath and before the being itself is the abyss of consciousness, which is the evolutionary time which lies untouched and simultaneously embodied in the artefact of form and the evolutionary body - which is leagues of oceanic, trench-like depths of dearths of light where the conscious mind cannot travel, cannot go; from which sentience is sprung like a seed in deep, dark, fertile blackness of soil. It is like the revelation from which the dream reveals the truth of life. It is entirely unconscionable at the level of the consciousness of the gravity which pulls the sentient organism; the being-body into and out of ‘formal, carnal reality’.

This nature of perception faces barely a hair’s breadth back into what may very well be a fathomlessly eternal past, a past which can only be broached in hours, days, years; barely decades; surely not hundreds of years of interspecieal memory. In this way, the past of the form of the evolutionary biological genetic body is a heritage which is a roadmap which explicates the very technology of the consciousness of mind from which it operates. It is entirely constructed from the alphabet of the letters of time and experience which perennially in utero preceded it.

This recombination of temporality is not only in the language of the form but in the recapitulation of languages - as in the transmission of the heritage of time through memory - simultaneously genetic, epigenetic, elemental, and chemical. This continuous admixing of past as in past experience forms the delimiter which can only be broached by the true, authentic, strangeness of the encounter with the sublime, ritualistic object of time - the totem, the artefact, the mask.

For this mask is something necessarily which is worn for some time, then is stripped away. In this way, the past is a mask worn into the present which reveals the abyss; the abyssal reality of timelessness and atemporality which girds the delicate train, chain, and linguistic transmission of the past into the ineffable, ungirdable, uncontrollable futurity of the death of all things. This pure artifice of the play of time is enough to make creation laugh; loosen its grip - which is the prerequisite for genuine creation.

In this regard, the past is the evolutionary precept, or foundation, which allows for the perilous wandering into the futurity of existence, the groundlessness of the ground through which all that remains is the transformative essence of the timeless acting through the mask, or the veil of time - as figures, forces, and forms recombinating through, under, in, and as - the essential energetic current of the total, absolute essence of reality. The past is, if there is such a thing, the very real energetic, covalent bonds which form the vehicles through which forms are constituted, compounded; chemically bonded and encoded - through which they are ritualistically degraded, returned; corroded, through the mechanism of the encounter with the solventic, cooperative forces of nature themselves.

This contradiction is an art to be beheld; it is an art to be experienced - through which, this vessel, vase, or corridor of existence and experienced - a linguistic chain of creation is established, encoded, transmitted, and transferred - as in a genetic line of information ceaselessly encoded through the fetal apparatus, the womb, the seed, and finite other amounts of biological instrumentation at the organismic and cellular levels to communicate sectors of informational code which form and reform the language of species and cellular level forms and bodies through space and time. This apparatus is the mechanism and measure of time - for without this recombinative sense - even at the level of the constitution and reconstitution of the bonding and rebonding of rock faces; fusionary devices and apparatuses like stars, there would be no birth nor rebirth - only the ceaseless essence of timelessness.

The very constitution of time, therein, depends on, relies upon the recombinative essence of energetic transference which is, in essence, language; the linguistic itself. This is the true relic of memory - that which constitutes from the symbolic language of the ideal dreams of form - the transmission which makes the energetic transfusion bodily; the fleshless fleshly. This pure thread of genetic transfusion of and through time is that which perpetually weaves and re-weaves the codex of the movement of reality - through which organisms and forms acquire, reacquire, and shed methods, means, arms, legs, deep biological memories; mechanisms of function, movement, and spatial relationship. It is through this very language that the entire history and experience of the human, the animal, the plant, the planet, the star, is indelibly collated.

In this way, the last relic of time is the linguistic artifact, the artifact of pure memory and ideation which precedes the notion of the corrosive object. Once materialization of being, body, form enters the realm of space-time, it is engaged and indulged in the duality, in the binaristic essence and codex of being and nothingness, transfusion of form and meaning into nothingness and abyss by way of energetic movement, consumption, extraction; the rise and fall of forms infused with fixity and substantiality. It is, at last, the idea that remains, precedes; proceeds - deep into the realm of futurity - long after the obliteration of the contemporary, temporal fixation has receded into the vision of the blink, the atomic, light-speed vision of an eye.

For the love of the strip card:

Strip cards are a necessary reduction of the baseball card to the essential figuration of what makes a baseball card a baseball card at the psychological, social, cultural, and metaphysical root. It is the imbuement of symbolic significance and meaning into the lowest of the low, the scrap of paper ruefully cut from a long strip of hastily printed, designed, and drawn cards - cards to be mass produced and handed out to children with candy, ice cream, and general store purchases across America in the 1920’s.

These cards are a representation and distillation of the essential metaphysical lot of humanity, not too far off from books and language itself - specifically and especially typology. The imbuing of physical objects and totems of significance extends from gold, the sun, and the atavistic deity worship of ancient cultures and civilizations around the world as manifestations and workings of the divine in the physical world. And there is an essential truth to all of this, that all is divine - including, and especially, the lowest of the low - the ‘measliest’ of the manifestation.

And this is precisely what strip cards are. They are a piece of cardboard hastily produced, hastily torn; roughly cut. Their borders are uncertain, their meaning is as playful as it is upon a razor’s edge of existence and nonexistence. They are often as small as stamps - something that could be easily forgotten and lost in the spin and tumble of existence - of time into new time, time and time again. They are, in this way, something that barely exists; something on the precipice of existence. So what is it that imbues them with significance?

The evolution of baseball cards over a century and a half has been spurred on with various different movements of art, food and necessity inserts; the booming of a card industry based on responses by consumers to said cardboard images and pictorials inserted into essentials of the day. This movement has ebbed and flowed; been compounded by periods of economic prosperity and scarcity with war. The question throughout has remained - just what is imbued with meaning? The cards with the greats of the game, a child’s favorite player, a card that is scarce, in perfect condition - what is it that constitutes meaning behind cardboard?

It is a question that peeks, metaphysically speaking, into the manifold of existence in a subtle but profound way. Cardboard is not fuel, not tinder, not oil, not genetic material - it holds no ground nor sway in the purely survival oriented and metabolically sustained worlds of men, creatures, animals, beasts, flora, fauna alike. It could be burned, certainly - but a fine piece of cardboard the size of the palm of a hand is no wartime device - nor is it sustenance on a cold night. It is instead something entirely imbued with aesthetic significance. It is entirely artistic, imaginative; sustenance where ‘no man can survive off bread alone’.

This aesthetic, artistic significance is directly tied to life beyond and behind life - life that is in the sphere of the ideal, the thought, the dream. And this is precisely what the strip card represents - the creative, imaginative capacity of the eternal child, the child who, in Heraclitus’ terms, ‘is the universe at draughts; at play with colorful spheres’. In the timeless dimension, it is the recombinative admixture, the playful experience and interconnection and reiteration of different functions, compounds, fixtures, and essences at war, at work, and at jest with one another to form the substratum of the endlessly, perennially shifting ground of the material manifestation and realization of ‘things’; the essential changingness that constitutes their ‘thingness’ - the play of their appearing and disappearing.

To distill this idea and concept, it is that life beyond life is beyond survival in a metabolic, animalistic, fusionary (as in stellar life) sense - life that is directly connected and into interrelationship with the creative matrix of existence - or the realm and web of life as in ideas, ideation, dreams, imagination, and essential creativity. The potentiality of thingness before the thing itself appears. It is this dream world that the material realm and sphere continually alludes and self refers itself to - it continually self references back into the void of primordial ideation from whence it came. It draws power, narrative, and dreamtime from the realm and store of the absentia of any real meaning, truth, narrative, or reality beyond nothingness; nonexistence; abyss.

In this way, the strip card is an owner of this realm in that it is the lowness of a beggarly puddle, or else the disjected, abjected object of time where light does not shine. It is mass produced; cut hastily by children; primarily distributed as a child’s toy, a plaything. And what child plays with a printed piece of cardboard the size of a stamp? The austerity of these cards is astonishing in their simplicity - with a brief lettering of player name, team, position, and a crude outline of the facial features constituting the card - along with irregularly distributed color printing of cartoonish design. It is something, that in its lowness, is entirely subtly ‘unreal’, or residing below the stratum and sphere of the everyday into the substratum of primordial creativity itself. It serves no purpose but the enjoyment of one who projects meaning; whole imaginary lives of meaning; visions of time and play upon its thin cardboard surface. It has no surfeit; it cannot truly be anything but and beyond abjected trash. And yet, astonishingly, it achieves meaning due to human interfacing with the object. It cannot claim the glittering, shining heights of gold - nor can it claim the essential tie to biological nature of sustenance nor sex. And yet, with the childish interfacing of imagination and dreamworking upon, within, and with the surface and depth and dimension of the card - almost entirely two dimensional in its material scarcity - this relational space of play achieves the hyperspace of profound meaning - through which true, primordial value emerges.

What then, is primordial value? It is a way of being, seeing, imagining, feeling - that is transformational in its transcendental quality. It neither acquires nor holds any true utilitarian purpose in the sphere of material nor biological reality - and yet it is acknowledged; acquires meaning. In this way, it is extra natural in a purely aesthetic, artistic, and creative sense. It is a direct recollection of life and creationary power and life force energy before the introduction of necessity - which is the survival gravity of objects, materials, resources, and fuel to sources of being, meaning, and power. The primordial value of a strip card, in this sense, is that it has no foothold in reality, and serves no real purpose and barely acquires dimensional space. It is an object so small, so compact; so indigestible but for a flash of fire if held to a matchbook or an open flame, that it almost ceases to exist, and effectively does not exist in terms of biological, utilitarian use of the object itself. And yet, in this very same way, it acquires a real foothold in life that transcends the value of ‘useful’, or ‘utilitarian’ objects.

The strip card, as an emblem of this function, is ‘stripped bare’, or ‘stripped to the bone’; in this way it is almost pure meaning itself without function. Its value cannot be reduced nor identified nor held to the material plane; it is entirely aligned with the dream plane, the fictional, the imaginative; the realm of the creatrix - the perennially imaginative, creative force of being that is at last relinquished to total freedom from the hold of the material body. It is no longer beholden nor bound to anything - but rather emerges from the creative aspect and essence of objects themselves. It is the total primordial revelation of themselves to themselves - of existence to itself - stripped bare; stripped naked to the essential, eternal aspect of creativity.

In this way, the strip card is a totem of dreamtime; dreamspace - the space of the abyssal cliff; the jump off of waking and sleeping consciousness into the fold of drifting, imagistic eternity, where symbols, meanings, layers, and figurations are imagined; their meaning is projected into and onto the cardboard forms of life which are their holds, vessels, and signifiers. Much in the way of the Vedic where the world is alluded to as a field or plane of wax, the strip card functions to delineate the total selfsameness of materiality and the material world; it is precisely this self same veil of total meaning and total being that we project pejorative meaning and meaninglessness, being and beinglessness - in accord with the civilizational function and service it provides to the historical, genetic, genealogical body of differentiation which we hold throughout, through, and across space-time.

The strip card is a veil piercing device, a portal through which life in truth, life in reality descends from the realm of the idea and incarnates into form, even the most fragile and temporal form. It is a direct descendant of the image quest, in that what the mind, or the consciousness is searching for, is the apocalyptic, archetypal image which pierces the veil of the night of consciousness in order to illuminate the substratum of existence in real terms upon the plane of the everyday - the interjection of surreality into reality as in revelation: the revelation of the meaning and true nature, face, and essence of being into, through, in, and throughout the realm of seemingly everyday differentiated objects, things, apparatuses, subjects, totems, spaces, forms.

The entrance into this image space is the realm of the dissolution, dissolving, and solvent of the dream as a force that breaks the bounds and borders and barriers of the day and distills conventional meaning, definition, and utility into the elixir or pool or ocean of the night - where consciousness is untethered from figure, form, and material concern and submerged in the primary apparatus and space of dreamtime - where the physical itself acquires, resides, and subsides to reveal the fundamental psychological dimension through which material concerns operate, change, and transform. It is in this way that the very function of evolutionary survival functions - that an animal acquires, reveals, or retires a new limb based on mutual perception of survival. It is the camouflage of insects; it is the way that blood acculturates itself to the eye.

This primal and primary creativity of vision is the subtle dimension of the vision quest as in dreams; it is no more clearly elucidated than in the unassuming scrap of poorly cut cardboard in which the minimalistic face, or mask of being is designed; accompanied with scarce language and lettering to illuminate the vision of the character; the cartoon; the figuration of being. It is the primordial mirror through which consciousness truly gazes - a mirror which cannot assume anything but lack of assumption; neither inflation of the cardboard nor deflation of extreme, bright plumes of color; elaborate ornamentation - but rather, the entirely straightforward, essential, direct, economical - conveyance of the power of the image upon material almost entirely ceasing to exist - through which the realm of the dream is revealed.

You must elucidate the truth -

That man is irreducibly; irrevocably free, even from this sheathe called ‘man’.

It is but a jest that all things pass through form, like Consciousness is but a veil for temporality.

All things come to know themselves through their appearance; through their temporality;
Through the linguistic web which constitutes them; but for a brief moment, then is terraformed,
Into and out of strange and unforeseen modalities.

This is the function of evolution, broadly, simply, and purely; applied to each and every physical dimension, sphere, and scale - so that it is a rule Metaphysically.

And it is this rule, change, transformation, that is the true identity of man, Nature, Time, and all things.

Their fundamental essences as singular; phasing in and out of degrees of intramolecular cohesion; chemical dialogue, is that they are constituted as separate entities; phases of compounding and complexity.

All of this is but a moment, but a wind in the sands.

All that is of Nature is irreducible to time; irreducible to definition - it is finally that in the moment of change; in that moment of terrible transformation of species, of the sublime creation anew from the ashes of what came before, like a star risen from the clouds of death - this is the nature of man, Being, and all time condensed into the figuration of Eternity.

So it is that we ourselves are an evolving essence, unfixed and unmoored to any solid or solitary characteristics which define us.

We cannot even be said to be ‘ourselves’ from one moment to the next, but that we are the very constituents and constitution of Being Itself, proper.

In this way, we are the function and movement of change in the sphere of evolution which perennially and perpetually constitutes and reconstitutes the inner and outer reaches of the self awareness of Being itself, or that the Consciousness, or the one whom is wearing the mask, the one who is witnessing the experience of any given body, form, or domain, looks back in upon itself and observes the essential quality, the fundamental essence - through and which any given material or compound experience is emerging new forms of awareness, sensation, and gravitation.

It is in this way that we are life working through sheathes, vessels, cars - and that each of us in our form has our domain, our cave, our image of fascination; our mind which performs the subterranean task of transmission of life through space and time - as in cellular respiration, species reproduction. Each of us within ourselves has thousands and millions of forms of independent life working in cohesion to support the compound body which we ourselves perceive to be ‘ourselves’, or a singularity proper.

It is in this way that mind works, as compounds within compounds taking the apparition of a ‘whole’. In this way planets are nesting dolls within star systems, which are nesting dolls within nodes of whole universes; spectrums of galactic light.

Each life is transfixed by the light of consciousness, or the light of mind which constitutes the limits of any given experience. Such life has certain hungers, thirsts, tastes; narrows of the senses - all through which the bounds of speciation and cellular membrance of self are clearly drawn and delineated. These are the ‘borders of our sensorium’ proper, through which we scry existence, and deem it, and us, fit to a way, and Being’s way.

Each in this way performs an essential function, like bees for nectar in a massive hive, each mind set to perfect attunement for the fullfilment of cellular function within the massive body of Nature - all of which is set to evolution through perfect overtuning, birth within birth; song within song, life within life - as the body of Nature proper ceaselessly consumes, digests, and recapitulates itself from the essential elemental dynamics from which the body of space and time was birthed, in the first movement and stirring and starring of stellar nuclo-fission.

In this brief moment, all is mind, but for the cave of the mind which shields and recapitulates body to protect mind. The prism of vacuous, miraculous fluid, through electro-pulsation is in commune with the essential Nature of Reality, Pure Mind, or the vacuum of emptiness which is true, pure, and still presence, the true nature of void and absence through which the essence of creativity ceaselessly pours. It is this imagination, recombination, and current of electro-magnetic attraction through which the universe is endlessly sketched and resketched, drawn and redrawn, like the play of an artist who through form finds the formless; through limitation and the transcendence of limitation, finds true and eternal freedom.

For what is this paradox, for the freedom of the mind to emerge from the prism of the body which must seek to contain, preserve, and protect its motions? It is this paradox, that for Being to reach full potentiation, it must reckon with the action of Becoming.

Man, in this way, must free himself irreducibly and irrevocably from the caste of false presumption. And how is he to do as such? He is to remove, to strip away the veneer of the manufactured falsity of definition; to at last pull back and away the definition and idea of man and to reveal the pure and true cause, the eternal oneness of Consciousness; then to live eternally in truth beyond time and the attempt to solidify and still form in word, definition, effect, or prism of light - but to finally, at one, and at last, live as the source of all life and light itself.

It is this true definition that is freedom; from freedom emerges the play and liberation of life. Let it be thus for those who seek to be free, to return to the play of the force and source which endlessly generates new combinations, new possibilities for the revelation of the depths of the truth of Being.

I.

Jane moved to Ossawon, wishing it were the Maldives, to bestow a kiss upon her temples and free her from the sunlight. The sky was cold, and bearing down upon her. Like a stream, demented, she rose from her bed and peered up at the hours, ticking perilously.

If life was a series of gods, a sundial - she passed through winter and spring like a miraculous less-than-nothing - a thing utterly unmarred by thingness. The body melted away like an unwritten letter. An empty postage. She wandered, moving about the tidal pool of the house.

All about her were scraps, paper clippings, cards, charnel ephemera from the past - a wind of time that had blown about her into this cave obscured by roof. She shook out from the life of the body that remained, her hair like tree leaves, brustling. Her skin like an oak, a wooden door.

All that shined shone upon Ossawon, as it did forever in a prism of same. All life was suspended there, and did not exist but in the dewy glossalia of amber, a language that was spoken yet removed by millennial walls of ice. No voice, no noise escaped from the chamber of silence. Even laughs of agony were nonexistent, nor were there spells of peering light, to mark the stone of the walls.

It was this voice that was Jane - it was a silent blustering of a wind that passed over the stones; wandered as the dials seeped elsewhere about planets and cyclically illuminated the siren of their form. It was this voice that ruffled the paper and disturbed the tombs, where at last flesh and skin seeped, pillage of dirt and bone. She was an isle, and island which was wild, vines which gave way to void of speech, of Nature glistening.

All of this was rhythm. It was a black stomp to the plume of a guitar which did not exist; yet illuminated with life from within the utterance of form, almost self consumed and vacuous, reaching back within itself for the engine of the drive which sputtered into abyss. Ossawon was a prison of words, a place for Jane to be utterly encompassed.

It could not be sun, nor could it be shade - winter nor spring. Time was unbending to the point of breaking in its relentless rhythm. To escape the time of endless summer… but this was not the wind. She thought about that breath which shuttered the gales. There was no great mouth that made the essence, and yet it was evasive. All about her she breathed, until her skin was a veil, a curtain, and at last - a void.

Not the Maldives, not the dungeon of summer! The words broke and tumbled into an utter quaking of speech, the quacking of a duck in the isles of the dead. There were no tombs that uttered the pure soil; Jane was a stillness of movement about a field of suspended stones. No gravity tugged from beneath the depths of space. There was a bottomless pit as stars rose hot into the night. What did it matter, to be here in Ossawon, heaven… what did it matter to be a spool that unraveled forever, signifying nothing…

Breathing! Uttered the jar. To filter the water like a dutiful fish. To pass through the mind sigils, hands that traded upon hands, language, time, the scraps that evade captive obliteration. But we must die! Certainly, we must die. At the hands of the breaker of time; upon the bridge of nothingness, infinity, and obliteration. A stone broken is released, but ash to winds ground down by the trickling of a creek slowed by winter’s creeping. As heat breaks the water into an exaltation of steam, so must hot exhalation drive all materium back to the spirit of being. She must die and go beyond debate of place. To sweat away the veil of speech and reveal the fire which unites the slowed ice of breath to body in breakless infinity.

Ossawon was a dead place. It was cold as ice and yet there was no ice to be broken. Time idled in a ceaseless pool, spinning and gyrating, spiraling for the sake of speed. Each star is a slave to the whip of rebirth, there in Ossawon. Not the Maldives, thought Jane - not the Maldives. Nor the slow pilgrimage of unbending and stripping the flesh before the idles of the stars, no - but the forgotten burning. For there it was too cold, too deep, like the straits of ocean which fed far beyond desire into trenches of death. Only cool things could breed there, she thought, only cool things. What hunger could sweat in the belly of a galaxy devoid of stars? There could be only space, but a cockroach titan. An eater of all things. One with the hunger stronger than the belly of the stars.

II.

Leaving Ossawon, then, was the dilemma. Like leaving the palace of the dead, she breathed and was forgotten. Back, again and again, she was returned to the voice of the body. Like a cycle and a tether, the slow hum of the beating, the oscillation of the entropic cask. Form, like a death mask - we must live and be spirit. And yet the wind was free, like the tame desert, casting shapes in the shifting hills of sands. Back, back, we must return. Nature has built with stone and brick and bone; wild animals have destinies! They must copulate. But not in Ossawon, no matter. It was the timeless, time out of time which kept her in the slow molasses. Let the sun hum, so infrequent that winters were forgotten. That sleep was an eternity unvanquished and unreleased to death; drawn out yet long enough to provide but the shadow of solace.

The eyes of the body peered out forever over the dawn. Awning, yawning for this? Dying for a fervor, thrashing in a pool of molecules between an ocean and endless land. The breath squabbles for life and constructs the entire clothes of the personality. She could not be Jane, but the sundial of the figure that resembled her. Each hand and arm twinkled with the nerval tone of the body. The limits of construction. She could not feel the reach of the blanket, nor the brain of the swan, nor the eyes of the toad or the grave of the wood which is chairs. This world is muted and heavy, like a wool blanket, like a clasp of densities. Whole volumes of oceans pound and roar; gravity is constricted, restricted. Bodies pressed down into land’s formal unity. Ossawon was endless, and yet Jane was definitive. She began and ended at the nerve symmetry which stretched like ossuaries down her feet and palms. Jane was electric in the palace of the dead; yet she could not leave, but for the brief ecstasies.

The brief ecstasies, recalled Jane. It is when stone breaks against the tempest current of storms; when the sky bleeds the blue gray of stone. It is not fog, the unity of stone and sky. If all is in the nature of water, stones remember what it is like to be free. Phase change. The state of matter is an insurrection, a raising up and casting down. Is this what energy is, thunder? Before light there is sound; before sound there is the raising up of the fist of absence and presence, the gyration of molecules into a collapsing clap. Before space, there is the tension of the idea - the introduction of space into spacelessness.

It is as words fill the page, or water rushes to fill a void. This essential gravity. This excitation of the friction of empty timelessness. She carried buckets of milk to the storehouse of grain. There was no tongue to taste in Ossawon, but the muted gallery of fruits which tumbled from trees to the flesh of the earth; lay outstretched in utter unseparation. The earth of the ground tumbled from infinity, and rested where it rolled with indignity into the mute outer reaches of space. She spilled upon the threshold; reaching for the frame of the door, uttered a scream which echoed only in the spilling of her mouth into expression. The world is the sound of a generator, ceaselessly humming. Generation after generation of form, spilling from the fire of time.

This world is a guiderail, a handrail - to support the elucidation of consciousness.

It is the terrain of dreams; the stage, the theatre and the play through which consciousness continually achieves scaffolding; petaling, flowing and flowering elucidation of itself.

It is through this that which is the essential plays - consciousness.

All things themselves are reducible to the essential chemical, metabolic, atomic, and at last atmospheric wave-length components themselves of the forms which consciousness takes and acquires.

Things, or ‘thingness-es’, in space and time acquire density and solidity of form through wavelength and frequency attainment.

In this way, they become solid and solidified objects with appearances descended fundamentally from wave and light.

Through the creation of these forms, they are ‘languages of reaction’ - meaning that biology develops and scaffolds chemically through them by way of their transmission of language through themselves in discourse with one another.

This is how ‘life’ emerges from ‘lifelessness’.

However, that which is hid, or the truth of the matter of matter itself, is that the innate consciousness is always already the force at work and acting in and upon the appearance of the material world.

Therein, the innate compositional parts are themselves pieces, figures, parts and elements, which themselves are irreducible, elucable parts and elements of the primary form of consciousness as in scales and complexity of wavelength, frequency, and density of light, matter, and sound - which themselves create and construct figure and form.

This ‘jesting-ness’ of the material is always already hid within it the secret of consciousness.

In this way, all appearances themselves are only as such; consciousness organizing and reorganizing itself as a scaffolding through evolutionary complexity and development seen as in and through biological time; the birth and death of stars; the progressive cooling of intensive thermal heat and the increase in trans-galactic complexity of elements, figures, forms, planetary bodies, and acquired masses through said progression of time.

Matter itself, and the concentrated density of life through matter, has within it hid the ‘spark’, or the transmigratory potentiality of forms. All forms have this sacred, sacral ‘essential’ matter within matter within them - from the flint of stones to the metabolic capacities of animals and plants directly receiving light and nutrition of and from suns and stars.

This is as in all elements and chemicals of density, weight, and character have innate and hid within them reactory components which work much in the way of electromagnetic frequencies and attractors. As biologically reproductive pieces fit together, so do chemicals and elements, as in sodium and potassium with the compound water.

This electricity is the fundamentally organizing and ‘enlivening’ position and potentiality of the universe. It is through this electricity that bodies are animated, carry information, and are organized in the ever unfolding organization and reorganization of matter, atomic parts, and wavelength fluidity of the universal.

All of this is couched in what we can call and know as ‘consciousness’ - which might best be called the full spectrum and radiation of awareness across all figures, forms, and formlessnesses. All of life is couched within this mysterious movement of presence and absence - the fullness of material spaces and the irradiating darknesses which compose the ‘absence and lack’ of presence and form.

This conceptual duality is simultaneously mirrored in the ‘conscious and unconscious’ of the psychic mind constituting the deep evolutionary body of an evolving organism, as it is mirrored in the ‘matter and dark matter’ synthesis and duality of the cosmos and stars.

This land of ‘absence’ constitutes the entire material graveyard of presence, awareness, and the histories through which all things are composed and recomposed. It can be seen to be juxtaposed and paired with directly the deep condensation and distillation of the flesh of ancient dead organisms into ‘oil’ which fills the jetties and cracks and crevasses of sedimentary stone which itself forms the layers of historical skin of the earth.

Such ‘dark cosmological energy’ is the pure witness function of eternal space - which is to say, space out of space, time out of time, pure radiating potentiality without incarnate physical form or symbol ‘of life’. And it is precisely from these realms that the apparatus of the creation of the potentiality of physical forms springs. It is the abyssality of deep thought, deep mind, mimicked fundamentally in the deep vestiges of the brain-mind itself’s electromagnetic transformer of consciousness - that which endlessly produces ‘thought and thought form’ which is then levied into physical energetic force, movement, and reaction.

In this way, Nature’s mind itself is animated and animate from the deep psychological force beyond its knowledge, control, and foresight. This animating force is that which constitutes consciousness proper, and is the primary motive of all movement and flux in and through natural forms, as the essence of Being passing through any and all stages of presencing and absencing as in becoming. It is in this way that the mind of Nature is being steered by the ships of forethought beyond its presence mechanism and control - it is in this way that mind acts before mind, and thus constitutes the theory, field, and realm of the known.

It is in this same way that thoughts are spontaneously produced and channeled through the field of consciousness; filtered down and in and through the mechanism and body of Being proper, the memory, the dream, the bodily recollection and experience of the individual and deep collective and at once atomic, elemental, and universal life of the form distilled through endless genetic recombinations, chemical reactions, and subtle psychic transformations that occur through, within, about, and across the nexus of the biological organism in question/being examined.

It is in this way that the field of Being at large is utterly and properly unbroken, but rather is a vector of transfigurational energies and pathways through which consciousness acts: the food consumed, the air breathed, the elemental energy transmuted through the furnace of the metabolic form of the fusionary bodies of the star. In this way, consciousness is in mutual simultaneous and immediate evolution - in a tremendous interaction and reaction fundamentally unbroken since, as, and within and before the very creation and birth of ‘the universe’ proper as an abstract concept of phenomenological veracity - as in ‘that which appears to be or become or be known by way of the measuring instruments of the eyes, form, flesh, face, et cetera’.

This massive, parallax, perpetually simultaneous emergence of forms in perpetual and mutual cognitive distortion through their simultaneous mutation into, through, and as ‘one another’ is the unbroken field of purely psychic Being proper, arranging and rearranging itself through the metabolic, chemical ‘dream of separation’, or distilled compounds with characteristics organizing and disorganizing themselves and one another through the exchange of language - language being their signature of form, or their matriculated density and constitution of chemicality and elementality, as it changes and shifts over time due to the individual and collective product and byproduct of reactive transformation.

For it is this very reactive transformation which constitutes, in a pure sense, the synthesis of space and time; beyond space and time is the undiluted truth and pure presence of the timeless and spaceless and eternally continuum coagulum of this pure form, consciousness proper, in a perpetual state of stellar-bio-chemical mutation and subtlety of forms - a combination and recombination, constitution and reconstitution, of ‘alive and dead parts’, or conscious and unconscious dark matter black space and psychically illuminative and matriculated, materialized light-form, or nerval, stellar endings which themselves are alit or alight as in acquisitive of transformative action (they are themselves in a state of reaction, as in transformation through the cross section of thought and form - materiality and amateriality - existence and nonexistence as in and through the transference of heat, energy, attributes, et cetera).

It is in this way that dark matter or the unconscious mind of the universe, stars, and cosmos, is itself the precedence of the realm of the thought form which is not yet active - which is to say it is the space within, as, and between the field of and at play through which actions on the chessboard of matter and being occur - it is the field of potentiality which might receive and obtain the necessary loci of transformative thought form; it is the very history of the thought form at root and bottom. In this way it is properly called and symbolically embodies and employs, ‘abyss, void, vacuum’.

All of life takes into itself death; as such, the breath of life which is the matriculation of contents and products of transformative, fissionary, fusionary, elemental, metabolic reactions of consciousness thought-forms within consciousness (‘temporary materium in a state change’) are formed and reformed within the field of and at play which continually recollects them into and through their fundamental abyssive state - which is the depths of no-matter at the heart, core, and root of all temporary matter-form reactions. The constitution of space and time and fullness of presence and void ‘acquired’ by the matriculating, matter-evolving state of consciousness, which is to say, technical language and being and form made possible by chains of chemically compound interacting and transacting and reacting cellular, atomic, and compound chemical and elemental forms - are all and at each within themselves in actuality a presencing of the true void consciousness of the universe of existence - utter non-existence - couched within the materializing presence of form.

This is to say, that matter, and even the constitutional chemically reactive, fissionary, fusionary, and metabloc energetic ‘form’ beneath all matter and forms, is in itself fundamentally, a priori, being-at-void with itself, as a construction of and from the fundamentally vacuum and creative character of abyssality, or pure space, pure mind, pure potentiality.

It is this very constitutional character of paradox which possesses and self-possesses any and all beings, forms, matters, and statuses of life acquired regardless of status of sentience. It is this fundamental paradox that preoccupies all existence; stuns all existence into a Hamlet-ization of the consecrated philosophical, existential paradox of ‘birth and death’ - which perhaps is better stated, ‘the illusion of existence within nonexistence’, or ‘the creation of the appearance of existence within nonexistence, with the capacity of even peripherally contemplating its own fundamental nonexistence as such throughout and as in unity of mind and Mind’.

For each being-at-form through reaction stands upon ground that is rather not standing, but in truth groundless as in the space and status acquired by the weight of stars and the sacral iron cores of planets ‘floating’ paradoxically in deep space. Rather, it is to say that they are being pulled by the force of matter and weight into a confrontation with the heaviest psychic form in existence - the veritable pull of nonexistence - the obliteration of death as in the wave-matter reconstitutional force of black hole transformers.

In the same way that planetary bodies are pulled by heavier furnaces of stars, with greater magnitude and weight of heat and light, paradoxically, these stars as transformational forces of energetic power are pulled simultaneously internally by their own impending heat-death (cease of core reaction); the heaviest local and trans local energetic transformers and cosmic predators of heat (black hole transformers); the heat death of the entire trans-galactic ecosystem of this iteration of universal field of being-at-play. What resides, strictly speaking, at ‘the end’ of this obliteration is what existed before and occurrent throughout it - the pure play and residuation and ecological development of language and linguistic of space and time as in the play of matter, forms, elements, and chemical constitutions and reconstitutions - consciousness itself as in a song of matriculated densities, forms, wavelengths and frequencies.

At central to this, whether sacred or profane, it is a matter of play through which consciousness evolves and transforms; it does so entirely by the primordial, essential language of deep history and chemical, electromagnetic attraction and repulsion which is that which simultaneously holds its simulation and theatre of space and time intact (revolutions of stars and planetary bodies, cycles of light and absence of light, wakingness of organisms and chemical reactions; the sleep of cooling bodies in the circling and cycling of the distance and attractiveness of stars).

This is to say, that the entire ecosystem, manner, and matter of Nature itself primarily and primordially is an entirely unconscious process dictated by the sleep of prior forms playing themselves out in an essentially entirely predestined way, by way of the book henceforth which has been written, genetically, biologically, and chemically coded by way of billions and billions of life cycles and matter status changes; establishments, disestablishments, and reestablishments of whole star systems and galaxies under the pull of life and death of stars and black hole transformers which dictate the depth and fluctuation of space and time themselves by way of their appearances and disappearances as dominant, characterizing features and frequencies of any given local universal phenomenon.

All of this is essentially residual, aesthetic, and jest - in that formally what is developing, growing, is mind capacity within mind, or consciousness capacity within consciousness proper. It is simultaneously the semblance and perpetual restoration of the cosmic frequency, factor, location and relocation of pure mind into vessels and apparatuses which are the linguistic (by way of chemica and genetics, binding and unbinding forces of cells and materium) constructions and reconstructions of the universal mind or cosmic overmind as such, formulating and reformulating its syntheses by way of the matter clarifying and matter clarity device of the field of consciousness proper - which is to say the field of play - wherein matter organizes and reorganizes itself, consumes and digests and re-matriculates parts, particles, and particulars in an endless cycling and recycling of forms and material.

Metaphorically speaking, this synthesis of life could be called a forge or a ‘cosmic junkyard’, through which the essential life forming and giving elements and chemicals and electricity of their being-at-play with themselves and one another ceaselessly forms and reforms constituent and constitutional parts, organs, and limbs of consciousness which acquire and reacquire different attributes through this reorganizational process. In this way, at last, beyond the birth and death of all organizational eco-systemic physical and biological ‘laws’ which hold together fields of being-at-play (bodies, species, planets, star systems, galaxies) - there is at last the fundamental operative organizing principle, that of bio-chemical-fusionary-metabolic-electric transference of the primary energy of creationary neural nodes of mind and consciousness - the thought form, which is itself embedded and pregnant at and within each and all levels of matter: the synapse, the galactic, the root and mycelium - which are the bio-chemical roots of life itself. In and at presence of the roots of life itself, are the airways of death - the space through which the formulation of time occurs and is fundamentally resorbed.

It is at root and at last that when this reactory chain of sparks and sparking which has constructed atomic reality at all levels ceases and is obliterated at a state of total energetic exhaustion, that the profound fundamental nature of creative reality is revealed as in the abyssal void and true and total absence of all character. This is the conceptual synthesis of ‘death’, which is nothing more or less than the revelation of that which is, beneath the appearance of character, form, attributes, and narratives of linguistic consciousness constituting and reconstituting itself in the establishment and disestablishment of thought forms and mind forms in the continual process of clarification of mind within mind; consciousness within consciousness itself - in the stacking of the elemental and chemical building blocks of space and time to constitute vehicular modes of consciousness becoming conscious, or being becoming conscious of the quality, and faculty of being and being’s expansion of the territory of what is possible and potential through the construction of itself through itself; thus giving venue in and through the neural, synaptic veins of form; giving access to itself through the creation and construction of itself.

All of this creation is in and at the play and the greater, total field of silence and absence/presence through which all creation is rather a distraction and disguise of the fundamentally characterless character of the abyssal, fundamental, essence of mind and being and consciousness behind and beyond the spark of thought which is in and at through the chain of reaction the spark and materialization and the play of matter as in hidden essences of mind through phenomenological ‘events’ like the circling of the planets around the stellar sun, or the mating dances of animals; the resorbtion of light through plants. All of this ‘action’ is the creative play of the creative essence of consciousness itself - acting itself out ‘unconsciously’ (as in through the depths of evolutionary and transfigurational time itself) as in a sort of hidden biological, bio-chemical somnambulism in a journey to continual matriculation, recombination, articulation, and elucidation of its hidden language and essence of forms through evolutionary transformation of forms - to reveal that which is hid in and through the very vessel in perpetual state of constitution and reconstitution. In short, that the creation of being itself, the material, the form, the body, the animate reactory and reactorial force itself - through and by way of increasingly compatible and complex neurological and synaptological wiring - is the way of the mind, through which the mind is capable of perceiving itself; encountering itself truly, the vacuous, wild nature and expanse of the primordially silent abyss - that which gives birth to all forms, dances of matter, and illusions of existence.