||This is an article written by a good friend of mine. I think i posted it in here before. but to those that missed out on it, enjoy
Priority number one: Do not under any circumstances maintain eye contact for more than four seconds. Passers by tend to avoid the nasty injuries.
So weíre trapped in this post-modern sphere, locked behind the guilt and shame of previous generations, waiting. And since everyone else is twenty seven, we canít hold on to anyoneís sleeve, and we certainly canít ask for directions. No, what is experience without experience, anyway? Itís life my pretties, life in this shackled kingdom.
So while weíre trapped and looking out, youíre somewhere inside with us, sniffing around the embankments, trying to suppress something new, even though thereís nothing to be found. For all their dazzle, the slogans and catchy jingles of men in animal suits donít get your creative juices pumping. But they promised to, oh how they promised.
Youíre not supposed to be allowed this privilege Ė roaming, but there you are, happy in the little false freedom your mind could acquire before the meltdown. You know, many wise people say nothing to point out the truth, because what are words but manís inability to communicate?
Youíre climbing a ladder. The ladder. The one which happens to find its way into everyoneís busy schedule. And itís not the one rung job you might have heard about, this is a scaling war, this is the championship people have been preparing for. Three, four rungs at a time, thatís how itís done. In fact, some competitors have been known to use the odd cherry picker on occasion, but only the smart ones. The rest are left dazed, holding the metal bars for others to climb. And youíre down there for the moment, roving with one hand out in front and the other on the aluminium leg.
Priority number two: When asked, do not reply. Wait for the repetition and only then may you speak without a conscience butting in.
Be careful what you ask yourself, because contrary to public knowledge, the inside never fails to give an answer.
Your eyes catch the empty gleam of gold and are fulfilled for a moment. That said, letís review how time operates. Time, is not made out of hours and minutes. Time is still and very much like the sun. We run around it, changing with the laps, while it stays central, looking on. Now, a moment, how does that compute? On each circumference, points are plotted, and theyíre all the same size. These are events. Your memory trudges over these points and remembers said event, more often than not reliving the past, wasting the present. So you catch a glimpse, youíre feeling fine. But life is pain, so you go back to the event to indulge. The laps go by, and you need to land on the same spot again, you need to feel alive and well, so you keep running, and when you finally come out of the spell, the future is upon you, because you didnít look where to run.
The sooner you realise that you sabotage your future, the better. If only everyone actually knew this to begin with, this small cage would be cleansed immediately. The secret of life is responsibility. Many people donít realise this.
What you do in this prison is your fault in one way or another. Everything can be traced back to you, and most of the time, it is. We donít like to know this. We hate to see ourselves controlling anything, let alone the direction of life, so we hide. Behind nature, noble causes, mothers, teachers, behind emotions, pets and disasters. In fact, we make places to hide, we dig them up out of nowhere and play dead with beating hearts crying out for adventure.
Priority number three: If you must blink, do so cautiously. The world disappears for that moment. Donít get caught up in the delight.
Actually, if one is suffering Ė and by one, I donít necessarily mean you, although that may just be the case Ė from the pull of a vortex, would it not be easier to succumb, rather than fight it? One can simply pass through, in most probability unscathed, then make oneís way back to the origin of the tale. Then again, if one would honestly like to struggle with an impending force for years, one is most welcome.
Now, letís discuss a favourite topic of mine: scale. Take an ant. A single worker ant. Throughout its life, this ant might wander some few kilometres from its nest at most. Now, an ant is no larger than a few grains of sand (it does depend on the coarseness of the sand, I am aware of this fact, but letís say that the sand is in fact relatively coarse). Now, before we start on anything else, try to think about what the ant knows about the world. Nothing. Near to nothing. It just doesnít have the capability to travel the country its in. Does it ever in its life ponder about the size and colossal boundaries that supersede its eyes? No. Does it realise that Earth is a planet? No. Is the concept of a galaxy or solar system remotely wedged in its mind? Iíll let you answer that. Bear with me now, it gets tricky.
Youíre an ant. Your nest is Earth, the third rock from the sun. You can move around the nest freely, although sometimes politics does get in the way. And where else have we been? The moon. What an achievement. Now, ants arenít aware of most other animals Ė they donít have to be. And neither are you. You donít know the other life forms inhabiting places you canít imagine. You donít understand the magnitude of the universe. I should say universes, because there are many. Not that youíd know this of course.
Think about this. You donít know anything about anything, really. All you do know is information passed on from father to son, and then maybe if you're lucky, onto you. So letís recap. You are a trapped individual, whoís a splitting image of many, who knows nothing about anything, but believes to be master of his/her domain. Oh, youíre also lucky enough to be sexually divided, carrying the species through personal contact with others, something we all loathe.
Why bother with such an apocalyptic trip through the ages? Itís the same reason why weíre all alive. Itís a lesson, nothing more.
Priority number four: Keep all personal possessions away from the ego.
Youíre stuck, I know. We all do. Youíre wedged in between realityís folds and the pendulum of dreams. Weíre kept in place because weíd all flee otherwise, and we so need the experience. I do hope youíre aware of the quintessential secret. Dreams and reality are not separate entities as one might believe. Chances are, if you find one, youíll find the other.
No matter how facile that sounds, itís the truth. Whatever you can do in the imagined world night has to offer, you can most certainly practice in the open field of life, the only hitch is, will power in reality is not the easiest of beasts to tame.
Priority number five: Open mouths create ripples stronger than most. Sooner or later, theyíll float back to you, so make sure theyíre beneficial.
Looking after oneself is not a thing to be doing whist in the spotlight. Itís popularity Ė as with most crucial things Ė long vanished, superseded by a ghastly love for destruction and mayhem.
It is, after all, easier to destroy than to nurture. Itís so much more fun to watch something burn down in a few instances, rather than spend years building it. And my dear lost soul, itís exponentially easier to watch yourself wallow in the current state of affairs without doing anything to change.
And just like that, we let the bullets and words of many shatter the precocious abundance reality often provides.
Unfortunately, you were born into a world where the inhabitants scalp themselves with pre-meditated fury. But donít worry, this has been going on for quite some time now.
Pain is not a dome enclosing you. Itís not a single layer with one threshold that keeps forever rising. Pain is the sea on which we sail endlessly, and we can be on a cruise ship, we can be drowning below, or we can be high above with a plane up our proverbial sleeve.
You bathe in pain as if it were an adventure all in itself. You go to the beach whenever the schedule allows, and if you donít have a schedule, youíre most likely already there, tumbling under the waves.
Priority number six: Keep irreverence alive.
God wants to see you rebel, because the only thing left to rebel against is humanity. The reason youíre there in the dark, fumbling with desires is because you turned your back on sublime interaction with the great one Ė remember that passage about pain, well, it has been going on for a while, hasnít it?
The true way to end life is through life. Surprised? Of course you are. But thereís always a catch, so here it is.
Once is not enough. To vanquish oneís enemies is to become them. One enemy per lifetime is a little above average, and there are infinitely more enemies than a singular oddity. Thatís where reincarnation comes in.
Earthís gravity can be divided into categories, even though itís still only one thing. Thereís the physical exertion of force onto bodies in constant motion Ė even though youíre going nowhere, one of many little ironies of life Ė emotional and spiritual.
The physical gravity of this planet is weak. Enough said. But the structural walls of the emotional and spiritual are so strong, their bonds are almost inseparable, after all, how does a planet lure souls back for another round of tumultuous sorrow?
Memory has a lot o do with it, and Iíll give you an example. Iíll try to make it quick. Youíve never had a big house in your life, youíve never lived in one, youíve only seen them from afar and you know that deep in your heart, you must have one and that you will have one no matter what you do in life. Well, your life has come to an end, and in you last hours, all you can think about is the palace you never had. So you take that thought, that desire with you and you wait until two more parents are ready and willing to give birth to you.
And in your next life, you will have a house that is infinitely larger than any youíve previously imagined before, but the perimeter of your memoryís laps will be suppressed, and you wonít know what the reason for life is, you wonít realise that desire controls almost everything you see or do, and you certainly wonít remember everything youíve learned before. Glimmers come and go, but you will be left alone with nothing.
Earth remembers every desire, every rage, every thrown punch and every shed tear. And what other blithe entity would use these things against the inhabitants? You see, Earth has also come under the spell of miseryís ocean. It has learnt from us. How else can you explain us coming back here time and time again, when recently (and by recently I mean the last hundred years or so) all weíve been doing is razing the poor planet to the core?
Another thing, and maybe this will come out clearly, maybe not. Youíre old. Youíre centuries old, some of you are millennia old. And most of you are as old as the dinosaurs, if not that little bit older. Oh yes, we were there. Donít let anyone tell you otherwise.
A successful and prosperous Ė intelligent goes hand in hand here Ė always leaves artefacts for the future to find. Now, imagine if there was a cataclysm the ferocity of which nobodyís seen for over four million years? Good, now suppose that the only thing which survived was a sock Ė despicable I know, but it could happen, anyway, this is to illustrate a point. It was buried in a mine somewhere and because it was nylon, it didnít disintegrate, but was fused to some ore and lived on through the ages. Now, as always, we survive and populate the planet again. Deep into the future, someone excavates and finds the sock. This little bit of material is the last remaining link which leads directly to us. Not an item you wish you were remembered for, is it?
But thatís what we do, we trivialise the past with worthless discoveries and let our egos overrun a history we know nothing about. I do hope you realise that most people on this planet consider themselves to be the only intelligent race in the universe. And donít take this the wrong way, but the level weíre at wouldnít even pass for any level of intelligence out there. Ever thought that maybe our forms of communication are just too primitive to be noticed by other beings?