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Once you know you are only a set of programmes
based on various beliefs and that you can be free and swap them around such as
great actors do and become another person for a while, some actors find it hard
to come out of their roles and the script carries on and some begin to have an
identity crisis giving them much grief and consternation.
Once you really know as distinct from intellectual
belief and logic, you are a set of conditioned responses a sort of computerised,
a super soft ware programme that can be adjusted and reconfigured by adopting a
different set of programmes after some withdrawal symptoms, you can never take up a permanent role or in fact find it hard to find one at all. If I am a set of programmes who am I in real
terms? Some really do not care or have
faced this and can live a life in their ‘matrix’ and it’s an accepted fate.
When the actor or con man sees that the
personality is malleable, shifting sands, a life of nomadic personalities and
brain washing, it may induce a search, an inquiry as what is behind the
personality if it is basically brain washed. This can then set up a problem for
some; there seems to be no former self and behind it seems to be a void, a hole, a
boring nothing, just a great yawning gap, an unfathomable abyss dark and
menacing.
Then the fear I will be nothing, a nobody, no
identity. Then there can be panic and
never to go to this place again and then get into distraction, lose oneself in
another set of ideologies and programmes anything other than to be a nobody, a no thing,
identity- less and maybe become a vegetable, maybe crazy, impulsive, suicidal,
depressed, nothing to live for, a hermit, society means nothing, business,
relationships, success, empty, no love, solitary, sad, mad and end game.
Perhaps by chance or destiny, whatever that is, a
niggling thought arises as all the above is false and it doesn't seem to be, so
who is me? This maybe the start of the
quest to find oneself.
Oh no I can’t be this void, this gap this hole can
I? I am continually circumnavigating it, perhaps I should dip my toe in this
gap and see what it feels like?
Its OK it seems quiet, light, buzzing with alert
light, not the light as I know it but a luminosity and aliveness, the light of
joy and bliss and not much thought, although thoughts arrive not by thinking
but by a sort of picture, a knowing without reason or logic, a voice that is not a voice and I am finding I
cannot name it a void, empty, sterile it is completeness and fulfilment, of this
I can say no more.
There are no adjectives to describe it or do it
justice. It is what it is.
SHACK
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