The Machine (Part I)

It entertains and captivates,
Gives us all we need to survive,
Hooks us on a pattern called “society”,
Addicts us to a false pretense called “consensus reality”,
Gives us a goal, trains us to dream its collective dreams,
Calls us selfish if we long for something better,
Dubs us troublesome if we struggle to break free.

(The machine is vast, but brittle.
A Generation of free minds could tear it down.
But there are very few free minds.)

The genius of the machine is in its charismatic invisibility; politicians and public figures parade the main stage, willing scapegoats to the ongoing social downfall. The ignorant see these as the heart of the machine, but the real organization lies behind the scenes/within our minds, and influences the way we see our lives. For the machine to come crashing down, a change in the nature of our thoughts must be affected. A change in our actions would surely follow.

insquequo deinde
~93

Musings on Metaphysics

Is evil a mockery of goodness?
Is evil merely a mirror image of everything that is right and just?
Is darkness extant purely to poke fun at light?

Ponder this:
Which came first – the tree or the root?
Both sprung simultaneously from the same seed
Evil isn’t only good’s equal and opposite reaction;
It is goods balance, the darker, though necessary remaining half of the equation.

insquequo deinde
~93

Amaranthine Inferno

I awake and my dreams unwind,
Soft sunlight shakes the starlight sleep from my eyes,
Life breathed upon me last night.
The earth stalled in its orbit just for me last night,
The sun rises only for you this morning,
The earth moves only for us.

A flare of white hot passion dies a violent death,
is reborn an aching tenderness,
an ember glow in the dark night,
and rocks me gently, softly, slowly toward dawn . . .

But like the dawn emerging from an endless night comes the solemn knowledge that nothing is forever . . . love’s immortal guise is the root of its everlasting appeal – we all need a forever to cling to.

insquequo deinde
~93

Why Hide?

I've recently noticed a truly disturbing trend.

I'm not sure how many of you spend any but a negligible amount of time on MySpace, but I will admit with no apologies or excuses that I am on there quite a bit. I enjoy browsing the profiles of people I have never met and likely never will - I guess I'm a bit of a voyeur.

Sometimes, just when I think I should drop somebody a line because I really like what they've posted, I come across an absolute deal-breaker: the ubiquitous "Why don't they like me?" blog entry.

To clarify - I will happen upon the profile of a person, usually a female in her early to mid twenties, that will absolutely thrill me in that she comes across as the most honest, confident, refreshingly Lilith-esqu beast of a bitch that I have seen in nearly forever. She will blog with aplomb about how she's living life according to her own terms, loving herself and understanding her worthiness, and generally having a great time with who she is, haters be damned.

But then, somewhere, somehow, somebody shakes her confidence. It happens to us all, of course. I understand that not everybody can stand upon their own strength when all seem to be against them. But I am always disappointed to hear that she's gone on the defensive, blogged about how they won't leave her alone, how she's hurt by mere words, mere pixels on a screen.

Although it's probably not my place, I have this to say:

Honey, please, I beg of you, don't try to explain yourself to them! They are always going to lash out against what they are too weak to try to understand. They are content with the same old falsities that they have been spoon-fed by the masses; they see you as a threat because they can't grasp how you can rise above this.

There will always be differences of ideals between people, there is no escaping this point of human nature. The trick is not to let these disparities shake your faith in yourself. We are all stars and we have all been given a chance to shine and a path to follow on this earth. If it is pleasure that you seek and strength that you display, do not feel ashamed. You are closer to enlightenment than they can ever know.

insquequo deinde ~93

Sidewalk

My dreams found me walking one night in the city. I was alone, but not alone. The pavement was slightly damp, as from a recent rain. All the aromas in the night air were intensified, thereby, and I knew another had recently preceded me upon this darkened sidewalk. The night was balmy and breezeless, but yet my skin felt cool. The stars were faint points above the hazed glow of the streetlamps.

I walked and I walked; though I passed not another on my path, I continued to walk. I sensed presences all along, but saw no one. Were they hidden away in the alleys or in the buildings looming above me? Were they crouched inside doorways or high above on balconies? Were they extant on another plane? In another time? I knew not the answer, only that they were . . .

I remember how the sidewalk breathed with the traces of those who had gone before and, I suspected, those who had yet to come. Though the sidewalk should never be confused with the ultimate destination, I knew I was headed in the right direction.

insquequo deinde ~93

Super-Societal Freedom

If you aren’t quite within the circle, you don’t have to live by its rules; this is not anarchy, more of a blossoming of creative impulses and new methods of thought. One can either live within the limits of accepted behavior and find oneself stuck within the bounds of existent patterns of reason, or cease to conform and engender one’s own path. It is possible to have freedom like this and still live among the slaves to the social order, but it’s hard. One’s outlook on everything is radically different; one’s mind would have to be super-societal, if not one’s circumstance

Freedom makes for a difficult life; it comes at the expense of many comforts afforded to those who play along. It is the milieu of the starving artist: only when outside concerns are removed, only after all pleasurable distractions are erased, does one have the freedom to fully immerse in one’s art. Freedom is severing all ties with materialism and mankind. Freedom is living out of a car that isn’t even yours. Freedom is when everything is gone and you realize how little of it you actually needed. Such a purge is what most of us expend the most effort trying to avoid: we pay the bills on time, keep a rotten job, see the doctor on a regular basis – all to stay within the circle.

I had that kind of freedom once: I had nothing but what I could carry, no place to sit, to shower, just my notebooks and my acoustic guitar. I equated my emergence from the circle with going a little “crazy”. I ceased to worry about how I looked, who saw me, or what the rest of the planet was doing. When I spoke of Freedom then, it was melancholy. Though not one person would stop to tell me the time of day, or point me in the direction of Ixtlan, I did some of my best writing during that period.

When I had that kind of Super-Societal Freedom, it was through a chain of events that I likely brought upon myself. Several times thorough the years I have come close to that situation again. It seems that either I was cursed with a pervading irresponsibility that will always keep me just above the bottom, that will always keep the wolves waiting by the door, or it is actually an unrealized part of my will to live off the grid.

Super-Societal freedom is not, contrary to what many may assume, the easy answer; I find it a great deal easier to live within the circle and exploit the system from within. Life above/outside society is hard to commit to because it is new, different, and most of all, universally reviled. Change is not something we humans embrace willingly. It’s easy to ridicule those who live outside the circle, to call them odd or stupid or losers, even for those of us who should know better. Even we who see stars everywhere, in everyone, have a natural tendency to look down upon anyone who lives this way. We see them as unproductive, if we see them at all. I find myself doing it, even though I’ve been there.

And in the same breath, I give myself credit for rising out of it. How quickly the hypocrisy returns . . .

(Some of you may have read this on my Myspace blog about a month ago, but it came up in conversation today again, and I thought it bore repeating.)

insquequo deinde
~93

Nativity

This is my first post here on Blogger.

I'm no stranger to writing, however, as I have been doing it all my life. Ok, so all of us can say that, but how many of us actually mean it? How many can say that they write for art's sake? For the love of expression? For the beauty of well-worded ideas? Shopping lists do not count.

I will be discussing a vast array of topics and ideas in the future. Some will be highly symbolic, others very concrete, all will be poetic. However, I would encourage the faint of heart to discontinue reading as quickly as possible, read a few bible passages and call someone else in the morning. This blog will be dedicated, above all else, to the discussion of new ideas in the way of enlightenment, and one person's daily ventures and adventures in the field. I will be undoubtedly be touching upon esoteric theology such as Thelema, Hermetic Magick, Astrology, Yoga, Divination and a host of other Mystical and Magickal traditions.

I do not aspire to offend those who walk an antipodal path, for it is not in my will to insult you or convert you. I wish for this exercise in exposition to be positive and rewarding for all. I welcome your comments, but ignorance or bigotry in any form toward any other commenter will not be tolerated. (I, on the other hand, can take it.) I would hope that you all would exhibit some decorum and a great deal of tolerance for the notions voiced here, as we are all Stars and you get what you give.

insquequo deinde
~93

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