“It’s called hysteria”

diary of a woman in exhile; an unfiltered stream of consciousness

my eyes trace the ceiling,

or does the ceiling trace my eyes?

thinking in circular motion,

chronic existentialism,

a panther in a cage

it needs to run

but its enslaved

and so i gaze

at the pleasant scenery outside from the nucleus of this maze,

see im an invalid

which makes me invalid

erase me from society i might as well be dead,

but i want to live i really want to live i'm doing everything i can so that i can feel well again,

you think i'm lying?

so pathetic,

no i get it,

and im crying and im crying

slowly dying as im crying,

when your affliction is invisible, they always think your lying

call it hysteria

when the womb becomes a tomb

psychosomatic

still I’m trapped inside this tomb

so dramatic

regularly I do this thing where I zoom

out

regain perspective

but it’s hard when the walls close in around you and your neglected,

to suffer,

everyone suffers;

the first of the four noble truths is Dukkha: Suffering exists: to live is to suffer.

in the lost Gospel of Thomas verse 58 Jesus said: Blessed is the man who has suffered; for he has found life,

life,

it often feels like my life is slipping through my fingers like water

(Yeah, play your tiny violin, there's wars out there)

but there's a war in here too,

we’ve been enlisted

to fight battles unseen from the confines of flesh,

there is a lotus in my chest,

reaching for the light from muddy depths,

i want to do something important something meaningful to make a contribution to reduce humanities suffering is peace on earth possible?

or is this eagerness to do something important really narcissism disguised as martyrdom does the world really need another martyr?

what does the world need?

i want to finish my magnum opus,

but instead I’m halted,

like a sprinter in quicksand, sinking, edging forward, sinking

is there meaning to this stagnated existence?

maybe im being punished

(O Father in heaven, forgive me my sins)

have i been condemned to a life of pain and when i say pain i don’t mean pain i mean unrelenting head splitting soul crushing pain debilitating pain, pain that’s unimaginable to those who have not felt pain, pain that annihilates all sense of self because the self makes no sense when the body it inhabits becomes a prism of torment

(welcome to my torture chamber) https://vlipsy.com/vlip/DHmxAoej

but God do you hear me

God do you hear me

(echoes the voice of every human sentenced to this obscenity)

i don’t pity myself God i just want to know why

i’m desperate to know why don’t you feel my desperation like an ache in the face of the earth like the earth could combust, like my chest will implode if there is no relief,

disease,

like the gravitational singularity of a black hole incrementally vacuuming everything around it, including light, including sound, this heartache is a void,

today I read that black holes, originally thought to nullify everything in their vicinity, can actually stimulate stellar creation and give rise to their own dwarf galaxies, but only under specific conditions that arise due to their youth and limited size,

aged black holes are too nihilistic,

they’ve seen too much,

the abyss is all that makes sense…

the silence in this room

might drive me mad,

(am i already mad?)

its not a peaceful silence its compressed and there’s a distant ringing that does not end, i want to step out into the light but it sears my eyes as if they do not belong there despite being reliant on light for perception

and my bed,

the place in which I sleep the place in which I weep the place in which i

dread

to return

the place i lie

again and burn

so who am i?

when all i am

has been reduced to nothing,

but illness

is illness my new identity?

i’d rather be nothing

is illness my crucifix?

no one to blame

the oppressor and the oppressed

compressed into one

a dichotomy my mind cannot

nevermind

I digress

who am i again?

my eyes are always leaking, doctor it seems that my tearducts are broken, dripping dripping, can you fix them too? no i don’t want pills, I’m doing everything to return to homeostasis, and when i say everything i mean everything, according to every youtube guru i should be an immortal superhuman by now maybe I’ll go get another round of nerve numbing needles up my anus then fast for another forty days and see if that helps?

if it doesn’t ill call it Gods will again and surrender for a while until symptoms exacerbate and I feel the grim reaper’s breath on my shoulder,

whispering,

come child…

and what does it matter

if im stuck here like an insect swallowed by concrete

when we all return to dust,

our names forgotten

our achievements evaporate the moment we depart

but one mans achievement is another mans failure so

our perception is the only thing that gives anything meaning in which case it was never really meaningful anyway,

unless we do something lasting i want to do something lasting to raise the consciousness of the collective consciousness to vaporise evil so love prevails,

humanity is so disconnected i want to unify humanity with themselves with nature with god as if it were as easy as plugging each severed cable back into the motherboard,

but in reality

with or without me, life goes on,

perhaps the concrete has sentience

wait, is there meaning to this tormented existence?

our whole lives we chase importance despite the inevitability that we will lose it

are humans even more moronic than sheep at least sheep don’t create their own suffering chambers through mind labyrinths of illusions.

because the mind, even the most logical, intelligent mind, is an illusion-making machine, from which we can never perceive the truth because the mind is always, fundamentally, by nature of cognition itself, a few seconds behind Now, thinking it’s infront and Now is the only place where truth exists and even then it is relative because your now is seconds apart from my now depending on how close we are to each other or the earth or the sun it takes 8.3 minutes for light to reach earth from the phosphorus of the sun and our shared experience of now is dependent on light so to the point of truth is that its truer to accept that we are each fundamentally alone despite the appearance of a shared existence

what is existence?

sometimes i wonder if this is really the bad place, and we’ve been deceived, like, we are all living in a mirage that presents itself as a good place, a decent place where life is good and we deserve good things simply because we are good even if we are bad we convince ourselves we' are good and therefore entitled and therefore we suffer

but even in the Holy scriptures, God’s only son, Jesus Christ, who embodied wisdom, humility, and kindness above all others, was reduced to suffering.

what does that say about God? what does that say about suffering.

maybe i’m not being punished

maybe there is no sense or sentience to the chaos it is simply chaos rapidly increasing in disorder as entropy propels the whole of universe towards an inevitable cataclysmic demise

decay decay decay

all things are in a constant state of decay

and the circle if life is a miracle

am I so concerned about being a nobody doing nothing going nowhere because I have been brainwashed by capitalist indoctrination which may well be being converted under our noses into mass communism, which is really totalitarianism masquerading as communism - you will have nothing and be happy they say. Are we all just cogs in an exploitative machine and what I’m really afraid of is the invisible whip of a slave master punishing me for my lack of productivity…

or is it a primal, biological need for belonging and survival within a pack because that’s how our ancestors have survived from the beginning of time, has evolution hardwired the human race to live in symbiotic communities in which historically, the weak did not survive, abandoned, left for the wolves,

burden burden burden

all fears are rooted in the fear of death, including the severe discomfort of being a burden.

does it really matter if I lie here for the rest of my life, awaiting my next resurrection, or heaven, or hell, depending on whether you believe in the afterlife, when any alternative path still leads back to a coffin?

i am buried and i rise and i am buried and i rise but one day i will die

we run around as if we matter

do we matter?

all we are is matter, a fusion of matter briefly compressed in form

is it delusional for anyone to consider their existence significant at all?

over time, my neurons have rewired to fire along synapses of cynicism,

i was once very optimistic, you know

i’m not really this cynical

but how can optimism survive when it fractures a thousand times, and you ride on a roller coaster of lows and highs, hope and disappointment until finally, the vase that encases the optimism shatters

revealing its fragility

and your left empty

the nervous system can only take so much its exhausting

and your numb and it’s all pointless again

but then some instinct kicks in and you're fighting

wrestling

with your organs

which feel like their rotting

and your desperate to revive your dehydrated cells

and the fight

the fight for survival keeps you motivated,

humankind is resilient,

we stubbornly insist that we are entitled to exist on this planet even when it means destroying other organic organisms to persist

when a deer succumbs to illness it simply lays down in the grass

a leaf, does not resist when its stalk breaks from the branch that holds it, it simply falls, making way for new leaves

but then there’s this thing, in evolutionary theory called the selfish gene, which suggests we are machines operating not at the level of individualism but genes which work like programmers whose primary goal is to replicate and propagate through generations, and we are the program, slaves to our own dna,

that drive, you know that intense, emotive propulsion to mate and procreate, is that our own or can it be attributed to our molecular pursuit for immortality?

and is this information even constructive?

because that drive is so persist and so agonizing to deny and we’ll do it anyway, and it will likely be the most fulfilling thing we do here. Ironically that arguably selfish act turns boys into men, girls into women, and its through our children we learn selflessness through sacrifice,

or is it selfishness disguised as selflessness because if our children exceed us so do our genes,

and so the circular thinking continues maybe i should stop reading i should certainly stop thinking

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick

knowledge creates tangled knots around the natural flow of things why does it feel so satisfying to intellectually grasp the complexity?

the intelligence of our universe is so superior it surpasses the cognitive bandwidth of any human brain, rendering it impossible to truly grasp and why do we need to grasp so tightly to mental paradigms anyway?

and so we live in tiny glass containers in which we comprehend a fraction of reality secretly arrogantly thinking we are geniuses for having thoughts of our own, but are they our own? Ideas circulate through humanity from one thinker to another yet we attach to ideas as if we are the original generators and our ego inflates and our world view narrows,

you know I used a thesaurus to compile this nonsense so that it makes sense,

so that i sound a little smarter more intelligent,

to hide the evidence, that my brain is disorderly a little insane,

smoke and mirrors are the fabric of this strange plane its a strange game,

being human only human but we reach for fame,

and intoxicate on lies just to make a name,

to mask the insecurities that make us feel lame,

but who’s really blame,

don’t be a victim of the system where all part of the same,

these amateur rhymes only distract me from PAIN!

…………………………………………………..

peace,

enters,

when the relentless propulsion towards nothing and everything, the propulsion of the ego, driven by these subtle subconscious mechanisms, to make its mark and be remembered, or of the heart to just to get up, to go for one pain-free walk outside, falls away and you surrender

to reality

because reality is the only thing that’s not fantasy

and it’s teaching you

it’s trying to teach you

and when you resist it’ll persist diligently until you stop and let your arrogance burn in the flame of the pain and just listen

to the silence

because there is a way out

there is only one, one way out

and it is delicate

finer than dust

and it’s not death

i promise you there is no freedom in death

have you heard of Samsara?

you’ll be back to do it all again sucker

only this time you won’t remember

but your body, oh your body will bear the baggage and you’ll wonder why you suffer until you discover for the thousandth time that you suffer because you are in Samsara and that’s the deal here that’s the deal you agreed to or did not agree to no one really knows whether we existed in spirit form prior to arrival, in a place where we all floated around and agreed to this experience called humaning but it’s a recurrent theory within multiple theologies and regardless of the theory we’re here in this matrix and I’m telling you there’s a way out of the part that feels like hell. There’s a way to cheat the system, only rebels allowed,

do i sound like a salesman?

other’s simply call it finding God, surrendering your life to God, and a sweetness arrives, and when you taste it, nothing on earth compares

to find it, to find the eye of the needle through which you might metaphorically, metaphysically exit the suffering cycle, you must make yourself as slight as a strand of thread, as light as a feather, you must be militant for a while to reject the primal propulsions of the biological robot that is your form, and shed the weight of being human and rinse yourself of all dysfunctional programming and mental clutter that serves negative frequencies, the evil one, the destructive forces that compete for our attention, like hate and guilt and shame and resentment and self-pity and self-importance and judgement and arrogance and anger, renounce those seven sins so thoroughly, that when grace touches you and extends an invitation you can recognise it

because it is so fine, it is so so delicate

if you are not zealously aware, you will miss it

in the gospel of Thomas Jesus said if you do not fast from the world, you will not find the Kingdom

and when you enter through the eye like heavens gate its there

and you see you see you see

as if you have suddenly entered a parallel dimension that looks like this dimension but immeasurably enhanced, in a single moment, the world around you switches from 320p to 6k not 3d but 4d, every sense awakened, interconnected, no longer just you but a fragment of a super intelligence that’s so exquisite it blows your mind apart but your heart wide open, your heart, the portal through which reality can be recognised.

and it hurts,

theres a reason no one enters the void because the passageway hurts more than a thousand needles to the heart

but then the heart resurrects itself, exponentially expanding in radiance, surpassing all previous iterations

and the physical pain won’t simply disappear

i’m not promising a cure you’ve been promised enough cure’s that part is between you and God alone

and as long as your here

the body will always be susceptible to hurt and gradual decay

you will need to feed it with high-quality nutrition for optimal function and

you will continue to be tested

but when inner peace is honoured like the empress it is, it does not have to leave

when the winds blow

it is the only thing that is not transient

adversity arrives and departs in waves

but the depths of the ocean remains

unshaken

and you can rest there

and its so simple really

its simpler that any thought you’ve ever had or any concept you’ve tried to grasp in the end your grasping for understanding was part of the thing that kept you trapped because its here

the answer is right here

found only in silence

the Toltecs call it stopping the world

the Buddhists call it stopping the mind

and the cosmic joke is so obvious you could cry

your pain, my friend, has been the meaning the whole time