I had thought I no option, but to conform myself to that which surrounded others’ expectations. I thought that apathetic zombies were the only terrorists in a world confronted with fear, but I was wrong. If we had dared to realize that it was us who created those rules in order to constrain those who we label as dangerous strangers, then perhaps we could have been saved before the Great Plague of the Four Twos.
The Plague destroyed everything, except your soul. The Great Plague took our little boxes of belief and exposed them to the Sun. Is the Plague perhaps our only hope to regenerate everything that has been lost?
It was then, exposed to the burning reality that I realized:
The corrupt government and their pals, the corporate bullies, told me that I had to follow their rules because if not I would be labeled as The Undead #666. I was not the zombie, but I would be labeled as one. I would become an outlaw, whereas true zombies would be praised and reproduced in order to maintain a false state of security.
I would be prosecuted for a single crime: creative and critical thinking that led me to trash their wills through my love of paradoxes. I knew that there was no right and wrong, but their “right” was selfish and abusive. There was no guidance, but their own authority. We had a big problem. There was no good beyond life, but there still were earthly dictators that told us what should the truth be: their wills.
What changed with secularism? Nothing. We only replaced myth with corporate and socialist dictatorships. Both are the same using different emperor’s clothes. Are you aware of this? Please, wake up! The walls of Eden have fallen, but you still are alive in another form that the bullies can’t conceptualize:
as an exploding sun of love;
as only paradoxes can.
What is beyond good and evil?
The fullest love, but
what is that?
I am everything, but I am nothing. How can I be both? I am everything, but I ignore it all; I am only able to see myself as a child lost after an innocent fall. I can run into the stars through my body of atomic reactions that reaches the heavens through my unknown, you. You or me, the one way path is blinded with belief, but as one becomes two, the truth is amplified, not in cognition but in intensity, and in immensity; I become free. A grain of sand appears to be nothing, yet it is everything in order to create the figure of love that I am as I press my body deep into the whirls and twirls of time. My hurricane transforms those who touch me as we learn the curves of the repetitive internal rhymes which are desires. In movement, I am aware of the rules of this paradox. I begin to play. In rhythm, I am both. In process, I am both. In freedom, I am both. Both means becoming myself multiplying selves until the multiples become a self, the parselfadox. I am a ghost not aware of its ways: alive and dead à la même chose! The cat without hat, the box is a belief, the parselfadox, my host. In solving the parselfadox, I become a magician within a spelled h-o-a-x. Seeing beyond thinking, creating beyond feeling , bringing meaning into being openness as I understand I am not dead nor alive, but both and none at the same time. The box has no cat. Surprise! The cat is the box. Things move while you are not seeing them, so your story is neither here or there, it is nowhere and everywhere. It is alive and dead if there is no capricious belief waiting to dissolve your delicious paradox.
There is freedom if I am able to more away from belief into the realm of open spaces where there is nothing to tie me into a particular position. In this space, I do not have to defend myself from you because I understand your position as much as I understand mine. I am able to see through you until I become you. You see me because I expose myself to you until there is no more me.
I am that which I breathe, but I am also separate from it. I am the tree whose oxygen I take (but I am not) until the tree posses my carbon dioxide, and then we both are one, although still being separate in our minds.
In this together, we are able to transform ordinary consciousness and manifest ourselves through paintings, poems, stories, sculptures, gardening, architecture, humanities, philosophy, history, management, leadership, and furthermost because everything becomes a part of you as you become a part of them through an art that leads into the inexorable of still being me although being you, the paradox of life.
You can’t wear what isn’t there, and if it is there, how can someone wear that which we cannot see? Observe deeply because it might be there although appearing not be in order to make you believe in them.
Use this knowledge and create a spell that will release us each time it appears that they might start to suffocate your voice.
Freedom is everlasting if you are able to observe beyond the appearances, almost touching reality which is: