LXXI
If
these thoughts represent something true,
Any
mystic-scientist will realize the same unicity.
* * * *
Time is
the creator of all burdens.
* * * *
Do not
settle for incomplete answers.
* * * *
Learner
and learned are the same.
* * * *
Alas, the
sordid tales seem unending.
All
from the same insatiable center.
* * * *
Fill
yourself with your Self.
* * * *
How
amazing that we have
So
complacently allowed ourselves
To be
numbered the same as cattle or sheep.
* * * *
How
little you can ever truly know.
* * * *
Mark
these words with an eraser.
* * * *
How
weary you become of all the chatter at times.
* * * *
Count
your money and things as often as your
will,
They
are the barren, tasteless fruit of this epic mystery.
* * * *
So many
so full of the propaganda of time.
* * * *
Everyone
rationalizes their decisions one way or another.
* * * *
So many
who regurgitate what they consider religion,
Attempting
so persuasively to convince others
To
reason it as delusionally as they do,
May be
even more vehemently
Convincing
themselves
Their
own lie true.
* * * *
What an
odd thing to believe any of this truly matters.
* * * *
Detach,
now.
* * * *
You
have the right to say it,
But do
you have the wisdom not to.
* * * *
Bullshit
before, bullshit after.
No rest
till death do you join.
* * * *
Life is
a collage of memories.
* * * *
Why
should godness be confined
By any
act or thought?
* * * *
Every
form is inhabited in absoluteness.
* * * *
The
worst is not yet over for the world’s diversity.
* * * *
Will
the bureaucrats someday try to get control
Of your
inalienable right to take a pee or a poop?
* * * *
Truth
is the essence of illusion.
* * * *
But for
your thoughts travelling through it,
Every
moment is exactly the same.
* * * *
Flexibility
lends itself to adaptability.
* * * *
The
garden will again make itself known.
* * * *
Allow
yourself to be the joy.
* * * *
Prejudice
is the outcome of fear,
Of the
narrowness of a mind
Unable
to expand upon
Its
tethered nature.
* * * *
What is
freedom
But the
courage to explore,
To
experience anything one chooses
* * * *
So much
effort to become something, or be somewhere else.
So much
discontent, and so little understanding why.
* * * *
Ultimately
its all just a play
Of Self
creation and Self destruction.
What
other point is necessary?
* * * *
Ethics
is a personal inquiry,
A life
process of Self discovery.
* * * *
You
shall be free
When
you no longer contend
With
the temptation of the senses.
* * * *
It
seems no niche of consciousness shall go unexplored.
* * * *
It is
not easy to accept so much of what this dream entails.
So much
insanity, so much confusion, so much heartbreak,
So much
cruel self-absorbed intent, so much lost innocence.
A vast
experiment in the madness of personal consciousness,
The
corruption of free will. The vanity, vanity, all is vanity of it all.
* * * *
Adrift
in the swells of time, you conceive free will.
Yet the
many choices you make are so predictable
Within
the parameters of your genetic predisposition
And
adaptation to the playground in which you are set.
* * * *
What is
yours, really?
* * * *
All
one, yet so many divisions
Born of
the fragmented mind.
* * * *
The
inertia of history is the parable of the Titanic.
* * * *
A
parable echoes back messages
Only inner
vision can discern.
* * * *
Your
god can have ya.
* * * *
What
suffering infatuation can wreak.
* * * *
Eternal
joy is the happiness free of time’s burdens.
Forsake
the world and what is there but laughter?
* * * *
Past
the edge, there is nowhere to go.
* * * *
Many of
these reflections are the result
Of
meandering of word association.
* * * *
If I
were an ancestor to all this confusion,
I’d
certainly be shaking my head in disbelief.
* * * *
Wisdom
is just seeing patterns for what they are.
* * * *
All
these thoughts pose no solution
But a
return to the simplicity of being,
Something
we at this juncture in time
Are
quite unwilling and probably
Incapable
of bringing about.
Mother
nature will have
To
prune her garden
Of its
excesses.
* * * *
You are
all the same godness.
* * * *
All our
revolutions and wars,
Really
only frivolous squabbles,
Only
escort us into further disarray.
* * * *
Like it
or not, all abide in one niche or another.
Your
choices are as narrow as your thinking.
Though
we may aspire for more, most of us
Are bit
players, never achieving dot-hood
On any
of history’s assorted timelines.
* * * *
Whether
the target of notoriety or adulation, you a delusion unto thy Self.
How
ironically amusing that you are so often the buffoon of your own creation.
* * * *
Across
space and time, it is all you.
* * * *
Angels
are aliens in the devil’s den.
* * * *
With
every step you chart the course of your existence.
* * * *
You
refine the skills for necessity or interest.
* * * *
The
pits and hollows of consciousness
Are
born of your own whimsical choosing.
* * * *
Are you
in desire’s grip, or it in yours?
* * * *
You are
ruled by the hunger of your field.
* * * *
To
believe that one moment, one place,
Is any
more consequential than any other,
Is, in
the light of this larger view, rather naive.
* * * *
Who
really gives a gnat’s ass what you think?
And do
you need them to?
* * * *
Why
burden yourself with obligation?
* * * *
When
you want nothing, right relationship is effortless.
* * * *
Herein
all is taken away,
So that
you can see reality as it is.
* * * *
Sexuality
is a chemical-electrical high,
And
like all drugs, should be treated
With
great respect and prudence.
* * * *
Sit by
the river until you become the river,
Wherever
life’s excursion may take you.
* * * *
The
world is as you label it.
* * * *
You can
only change change.
* * * *
Your
just don’t want to miss out on more of the same.
* * * *
Knowledge
is the poisonous fruit of the garden.
* * * *
What
any of them think
Is what
you believe they think.
* * * *
You own
all things, have been all things.
See the
simple poverty of all things.
* * * *
The
shortest distance between two points
Is in
your mind.
* * * *
Your
don’t need to know all the details
To
catch the drift of the gist.
* * * *
The
answer pales in time.
* * * *
Every
dream is a mirage of its own weaving.
* * * *
Concepts
taking shape journey dreamtime’s wave
For as
long as the mortal weaving allows.
But for
the mind of the many,
They
existed not at all.
* * * *
Once
you’ve put together something,
What to
do but play with it,
Watch
it, maintain it, destroy it,
Or
reshape it into something else?
* * * *
The
races consciousness concocts
Can
never be won but through time.
* * * *
What
happened before
Is what
happened since.
The a
priori does not exist.
* * * *
Live
and let live somewhere else.
* * * *
Prepare
for the reckoning.
* * * *
It is
your presence
Which
breathes life
Into
knowledge.
* * * *
Every
game has a set of rules.
No one
will ever like all of them.
* * * *
What
grace there is in forgiveness.
Yet how
much more arduous
Not to
take any offense
In the
first place.
* * * *
Always
try to keep your options unrestricted,
Your
attachment to any one pattern
To a
relative minimum.
* * * *
Its all
endlessly moot.
* * * *
Go in
all the way, go out all the way.
In the
most real sense it is all the same,
Yet
still all diversity must play out the game.
* * * *
When
has mere pleasure truly brought you joy?
* * * *
All
agendas are relative.
Purposes
concocted in the filtration
Of
time’s countless dreams.
* * * *
Just
because you seem to know a lot
Doesn’t
mean you really know anything.
* * * *
Vampires
only give you attention
If the
taste of your blood suits them.
* * * *
Expand
into the meaning these words ring.
* * * *
The
quantification of the human experience
Is the
weight that causes its inevitable fall.
* * * *
It is
unlikely anyone will agree
With
every reflection written here.
They
are, as everything else, subject
To the
caprice of the personal existence.
* * * *
Human
beings are just like earthworms
With
added components and exteriors.
* * * *
You
learn what you need to learn
For
what you think you need to know.
* * * *
You
cannot capture truth.
It becomes you
* * * *
You are
the truth, the light and the way.
* * * *
Why
suffer for your aloneness?
* * * *
Another
fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Ollie.
* * * *
What do
you want?
The
eternal question.
* * * *
If you
are the staid center of your universe,
You
will allow that all others are as well.
* * * *
What an
appalling world
To
bring a child into.
* * * *
Godness
has never seen its own face
But
through the reflections of the other.
* * * *
A
sovereign of nothing.
* * * *
This,
too, will be forgotten.
* * * *
The tyranny
of self-doubt flays the soul.
* * * *
A
good breath is to die for.
* * * *
Why
would anybody care about that?
* * * *
If
it is worth a death,
And every sort of
suffering imaginable,
By all means, come on
down, live that life, dream that it is.
* * * *
So much
pride over things in which none have any say.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The
Stillness Before Time (Compendium)
©
Michael J. Holshouser 2009
World
Rights Reserved