Monday, 1 July 2019

SHACK 649 IS THERE MEANING?

Odyssey
Is there a meaning to life to anything? A Zen saying ‘the moment you think it is gone’ one might say what was there and what has gone and the space in between what is that, that infinitesimal space of seemingly minute nothingness, the quantum vacuum so full and empty at the same time, the no mind full of yes, that awful loneliness of repetitive thought dragging one away from the nothingness of bliss and even bliss slips through the ever grasping mind and fingers of tangled thought.

Who are you, who am I? Perhaps a fleeting shadow on and in life’s apparent solidarity to be disappointed by masters and scientists who say that perceived reality is only a dream conjured by brain washed concepts turned into beliefs and made solid because the mind wants to be concrete and fixed, secure and nailed down to solid foundations.

The disappointment that atoms are 99.99% and really 10%of fuck all and that even the remaining bit of that .99% is not known and its all waves and frequencies multi and single dimensions and yet here I stand seemingly solid and unconnected and the base an illusion built up of thoughts, concepts and beliefs even if I believe in the 10% of fuck all.

Who am I if the ‘I’ is just a conglomeration of fleeting nuances, shadows that dance in the night, monsters of fear that lurk deep down in the unconscious, subconscious, pre conscious, no conscious crap and definitions the psychologists and meta physicians, psychiatrists, counsellors, academics and the host of wise gurus and masters claim the know how the experiences of life and their inner meaning really mean.

What if there is no meaning?; that life is just a dream cast upon the screen of the empty naked bare mind and one realises this and yet cannot live in that seemingly empty void, exposed and naked, vulnerable and cold and psychologically cannot take this and there in no alternative.  What if one has had a terrible and abusive childhood and horrendous fears felt in the womb, born from an addictive set of parents or mother alone, these silent unexplained fears never fully understood, just unexplained haunting feelings that came from seemingly nowhere and disappear in a ‘joint’ a drug medical opioid or so called illegal or recreational usage, sex, fantasies, obsessive fantasies that lead to crazed perverted massacres and self harm, black satanic stuff,  sadomasochism, compulsive behaviours and alcoholism and so running away from that monster blackness of depression, isolation and loneliness and yet the blackness of the black hole the swirling hole ever wanting to consume one in its saliva dripping jaws and one running ever running from it and never after many incarnations and in suicide and death it is there still stalking and lurking for wherever there is consciousness and mind the collective baggage, the CD’s and DVD’s the memory sticks travel with one in the wave quanta packets in this multi dimensional Cosmic Universe and the 99.99% space becomes the basket and container of the shit and crap carried over, the refuse  not cleared from the mind colon and the rectum full of painful haemorrhoids that remind one for fuck’s sake wake up and stop running or forever not sit comfortably again.   

On my travels I have seen lonely people in cold empty rooms, dirty and unhappy, sick and wishing to die, some sitting in all night cafes over a cup of tea that last hours, not wanting to go home for the barren walls that mirror and remind them of their existence and why me and who is this me. The endless switching between radio or TV channels, the must have music or TV or Radio on the running from stillness and silence and if switched off panic boredom run from it get distracted, then lonely seekers who hid in fake credentials telling stories of their heroics of and falsities go get the approval and love they never got or experienced and without this out let and false identity they feel who am I without it?

So all of this is loneliness, bereft from the self of the real self, not the adopted illusion that beliefs are repetitive thoughts bound together as concepts and reinforced by a frail sense of security, the Doctors White coat of Authority, the Policeman’s Uniform and badge, the soldier’s rifle and kit, the priest’s robes, the academics proud ego and so on. All this temporary and whilst the illusion lasts it seems so natural and real and then death, illness, retirement and then a hole, then seeking a hobby, a bingo club or settling for loneliness and eventually  fading into a sort of oblivion, maybe senility and a stupefying drugged up old age home if you cannot afford an upmarket one, and in the shoddy ones I have visited the carer’s who fear they end up like their residents end up in some cases abusing and even killing them because they see what they could end up like and hate that part of themselves and repress it at first but after  a while of not owning it is their perception of the seemingly hopelessness of these dear folk, that the pressure builds up and says to the tortured mind ‘get rid of them, they are a waste of space, what life have they got, I’ll do them a favour and end their miserable existence and send them to their peace’. Even with mass killing or abuse it does not go away until one realises that this is my dread and fear and I have pushed it away and like a boomerang it returns until one grasps it and takes responsibility to explore the matter often with skilled help.

Running away for the brain washing of oneself and a quote ‘every thing you know is wrong’ and then looking at this it may become clear; it may arise in one’s reflection, musing, ruminations and perambulation’s that perhaps the solutions maybe to explore that empty 99.99% and that 10% and that .99% and realise that empty vacuum void quantum vibe nothingness the dripping jaw saliva monster just might swallow me up, the me that I found to be just concepts and thoughts that can be in millions of combinations, cultures, religions, philosophical and scientific riddles and conjectures and then dive, explore, stay with the fear of being drowned in nothing but ones own mind, the fear of madness if one does dive and become free the world might think you are mad, because you will not subscribe to their illusions and concepts and you may upset them so much that they will be the stalkers and not the black hole of seeming depression, isolation and suicide, self harm and deprecation.

Diving into or gradually peeling away the layers of duping by brain washing or at the time if inculcating probably by naivety one may discover that loneliness was the fugitive and outlaw always running away from one’s true nature and the stalker was indeed the real self calling one back to join what was always there and that false illusions are not real and indeed when one finds this out and realises no matter how solid my mind beliefs were there was always a doubt deep down and I covered it up, I buried it with more beliefs and concepts to allay the fear of being found out and that all I believed was false or rather short lived and could be shifted and configured to many other illusions depending on what one suited  or gave me more security.

On going through the black hole of 'I' come through the tunnel and fuddle of illusion to the singularity which is me and I am not a singularity in loneliness and deception I am a singularity which is the ocean of something else, this is an experience which is personal and leads to the impersonal, from the local enclosed mind to the non local open mind and that is something else. 

SHACK

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