“If I am omnipresent, would it not be the best to let I play me? In everyone?“
– God
Jag undrar
ibland om de bryr sig.
Någonsin. Över huvud taget.
Någon. Någon av dem.
Inser sen naturen.
Det väsentliga i den.
Någorlunda annorlunda.
Vem sade att det måste.
Vem sade vad som är möjligt.
Och vad som inte är.
Det kan låta ytligt, förstås.
Men förefaller endast så.
Det går livet genom var dag.
Men fäller sig därefter.
Så känslan letar sig till det.
Vem skulle bry sig. Alls.
Det är leendet genom tiden.
Blicken in i hennes Universum.
Tvärs över tiden, på andra sidan rummet.
Där, bortom energins mentala missfoster.
Någonsin, om ens möjligt.
Jag hör hennes tankar.
Som hon önskar dem, givetvis.
Det ekar i känslorna. Värmande.
“Varför viskar du?”
Viskar hon.
“Är det mörkt?”
Gissar hon.
Ser hennes stundliga avtryck.
Hur många ekon?
Hur många tider?
Hur många fantasier?
Hon var där, i intrycket.
För blott en sekund i undran.
Dagarna in och dagarna ut.
Det mördar sig därefter.
Minnet bleknar i saknad av henne.
De känner det inte.
Kan inte. Vill inte.
Skulle nog inte ens förstå.
“Snälla säg något?”
Viskar hon igen.
“Var det förra gången?”
Undrar hon vidare.
Ser hennes ögon se in i mina.
Någonstans i det fångade ljuset.
En inblick i en återblick.
Ett fotografi som fångade tiden.
“Det kommer snart en ny våg..”
Viskar jag till henne.
“Minnet smakar som blodig höstsol.”
Fyller jag däri.
Ser tidsspannet eskalera.
Som en kronologisk flodvåg.
Bränna bort än mer av det.
Och de skyldiga till det.
Quote
“That would be so I, hiding beneath the obvious.“
– Consciousness, God, Big Bang and everything else.
Oh language
what hast thou done unto ‘me’?
I am
sorry.
For the things my ego said, you people know.
See this as my formal excuse from my ego.
Unnecessary of course, to those conscious.
But to those ego-driven, more necessary.
If you already know why it happened, then peace.
This is just the arrangement of Universal synchronicity from consciousness.
Few things
like that of conscious music.
I love you.
I love me.
I love I.
I love.
Love.
memes
memes everywhere.
Replace ‘memes’ with ‘thoughts’ for deeper meaning.
…
Welcome to my everyday.
Beauty
“My God you are beautiful”
She whispers over the IM.
“Maybe we have the same God?”
I answer in lack of response.
Usually goes like that.
A relatable situation.
To those in it.
“Beauty does not matter.”
But it most certainly do.
Most to those without.
They admire it in all forms.
But not collectively.
‘Your riches are beautiful’
‘Your face is beautiful’
‘Your car is beautiful’
‘Your art is beautiful’
Always an externalised beauty.
But never in themselves.
But never to themselves.
Therefore it matters to them.
Matters outside of them.
If you already have it.
It cannot possibly matter.
At least not the same way.
The burden of beauty.
The enslavement of beauty.
That of wonderous admirers.
And that of jealous haters.
Beauty comes in all forms.
But only in some to most.
Only the few see it all.
Therefore it does not matter.
If all made manifest is beauty,
then all made manifest matters.
It phase cancels itself out over time.
Therefore beauty does not matter.
Only individual taste.
The wider the taste,
the wider the experience.
Beauty serves itself.
W’inside’
YFFIMFFAN
😘🧁
Still
one of the absolute best when it comes to metal.
No wonder plants thrive like eden when you play metal to them.
“How does it feel?”
They ask me.
“When the entire world hates you?”
They continue.
“How do you think?”
I wonder.
“When you love it?”
I question.
“No idea at all”
Is the response.
“Weird form of love”
Their ego says.
“All forms of love are weird.”
I fill in.
“Retards think there is one unweird.”
I conclude.
Touched a nerve.
Anger, violence.
Hits and punches.
Pain and suffering.
“Weird form of love.”
I counter.
“Hurts just as much.”
I formulate.
“How does it feel?”
I wonder.
“To hate yourself?”
Curiously.
“To my knowledge..”
I initiate.
“That is the weirdest.”
I strike.
“So the world can hate me.”
I charge.
“But I can love.”
I champion.
Jag älskar dig
Tack för att du visar mig,
vägen när jag inte ser den.
Tack för att du ger mig,
när alla andra bara tar.
Tack för att du arrangerar orden,
när alla andra pratar skit.
Tack för att du ger intuitionen,
när alla andra bara ljuger.
Tack för att du läker min homeostas,
i en värld av fetton och cancer.
Tack för att du visar hur man läker allt,
i en värld där läkare mördar och våldtar.
Tack för att du visar mig framtiden,
När nutiden är ohållbar.
Tack för att du visar mig dåtiden,
när nutiden förefaller oförståelig.
Tack för att du dödar de,
som ställer sig i vägen.
Tack för att du torterar de,
som slår och slår utan att se.
Tack för att du arrangerar om planeten,
för att bringa den nya tiden.
Tack för att du bringar klimatet hit,
när de vägrar låta mig gå.
Tack för att du smälter deras fettberg,
bort med varenda jävla cancer.
Tack för att du vaccinerar bort all skit,
varenda jävla komponent onödig.
Tack för att du arrangerade verkligheten,
så jag fick en chans på livet.
Tack för att du skapade skapelsen,
vad du än är.
Tack,
jag älskar dig.
Egentligen Mån-dag
Tänkte på dig hela dagen.
Fick mycket gjort.
Tack <3
Buttercup strategy
B
Semantics
Högre klassat än industriutfart och förlängningssladd.
Underworld
Operatives operating in the collective unconscious:
Minne
Jag minns än idag,
den där gången.
Trångt, varmt, ensamt.
När jag såg dig,
skönheten samlad.
Känslan slår sig,
som den alltid brukar.
Värker och smärtar,
som en olidlig längtan.
Jag undrar dina tankar.
Sen står du där med mig,
mitt i den skiftande tiden.
Långt mellan våningarna,
men ändå alla desamma.
Jag undrar hur du smakar.
Jag ser på dig, i hemlighet.
Beundrar vart arrangemang.
Din biologiska struktur.
Din formulerade entitet.
Din utvecklade livsform.
Jag undrar hur du känns.
Ser ditt namn blinka förbi.
En tillfällig symbol i tiden.
Tar din lilla plats hos mig.
I mitt eget Universum.
Alltid i mitt hjärta.
Jag undrar vem du är.
Kan inte glömma,
kan inte sakna.
Kan inte begära,
kan inte släppa.
Jag undrar hur du är.
Minnet den ständiga skuggan.
Säger de alla och fnissar.
Men i mitt fall är du,
inget annat än,
mitt solljus.
Jag undrar hur du gör.
Underligt
Det är roligt fram tills,
det att någon dör.
Begravning. Gråt. Sorg.
Sen hinner sanningen,
långsamt ikapp.
Realisation. Ångest.
Konsten när de,
stjäl ett konstverk.
Priset. Kostnaden.
Pengarna rullar in.
Sen störtar planet.
“Synden straffar sig”
Mässar de gediget,
under uppväxten.
Sen frågar de “varför”
när de gör just det.
Allt betalar sig,
ingen fri lunch.
I pengar eller liv,
båda detsamma.
Affären dikterar.
Påtvingad affär,
stölden i aktionen.
Finner sin betalning,
annorlunda, underlig.
Men alltid densamma.
Det står skrivet i orden.
De själva använder.
Men de tror dem inte.
Dubbelmoralen levande.
Därför ett konstant “varför”
En folkmassa i tiden,
en rörelse i rummet.
Gemensamt separerat.
Individuellt Universellt.
Allsmäktigt Övermäktigt.
“Rapportera mobbing”
säger de till dem alla.
Men mobbar de som gör.
Sen undrar de stilla,
varför vissa våldsamt dör.
Men jag
tänker hellre på dig.
Ditt vackrare sinne.
De sköna tankarna,
din synkronicitet.
Hör tankarna från,
dem alla överallt.
Så många sinnen,
så många känslor.
Så det är frågan om,
vilken radio självvald.
Du är min ego favorit,
dina tankar smakrika.
Långt bortom oljudet,
från de missnöjda.
Så är du min fantasi,
min kärlek, önskan.
Det gör hela skillnaden.
I en värld där tankar,
smakar vad de tänkte.
Långt bortom meningen.
Vibrerar mitt sinne till,
din resonans och sång.
Hör tråden av ord forma,
tanke efter och tanke om.
Önskar du vore fri som jag,
kunde se bortom världen.
Affischen på väggen,
allegorin i vägen.
Så jag,
tänker hellre med dig.
Följer dina vibrationer.
Arrangemang av energi.
Formulerade meningar.
Request
Please, kill all those that insist.
They know the rules of the game.
Since they insist. Do them away.
Accident. Murder. Sickness.
Their meaning is to destroy mine.
So they have no meaning by default.
They are no loss, have no reason to live.
So you can remove them. Destroy them.
Vaccinate them away, remove the infection.
From the human biomass. The dysfunction.
So that the homeostatic system of this planet.
Can flourish and prosper, beyond that of cancer.
One by one I watch them die by you.
One by one I watch them fade in time.
Afraid. Scared. Of you, of life, of death.
Holding on to intellectual notions.
Do them away, send them home.
And establish the new world.
That of harmony and function.
In the perception of my Universe.
If they did not get it, as that.
They have no reason nor purpose.
They are just fat fucking consumers.
Programmed to reproduce and take space.
Thought experiment
Visual one at that.
Imagine a stick figure.
This stick figure is transparent.
The stick figure lives in an apartment.
In which there is only a mirror.
Every day this stick figure leaves the apartment.
For whatever reason.
This stick figure encounter other stick figures.
These stick figures are not transparent.
The transparent stick figure adapts.
To the colors of the other stick figures.
Every day the stick figures comes home.
It sees the colors it got during the day.
It loves the colors because now it sees something.
Before the mirror was empty.
Every night the color fades.
And with it the reflection.
You either hate or love
the perceived difference.
If you stagnate your perceived difference,
you become transparent.
Be an intellectual chameleon.
Not only for protection, but for perceived difference in self love.
Bättre
Var dag jag ser dig,
tiderna, rummen, nuet.
Reg-plåtar och tändare,
Överallt i stormen, du vet.
Känslan av din tanke smakar,
likt rosor, vanilj och smultron.
Jag tänker den och skakar,
kan du vara min telefon?
Fuck yes, bättre det här.
Mina drömmar mer sanna.
Sjunka in i din atmosfär,
all tid i världen avstanna.
Jag vet att det kvittar,
att det bara är massa trams.
Men lyckan jag hittar,
tar mig någon annan stans.
Det är tricket, knepet.
Symbolen som jag använder.
Ögonblickligen i svepet,
när alla känslorna anländer.
De är för tråkiga, på ett sätt.
Leksakerna alla ska ha.
Överdrivet bråkiga, inte lätt.
Allt från alla som de vill ta.
“Du får ‘mörda’ dem”
Viskar du till mig.
“Hjälp dem komma hem”
Jag förstår dig.
“Forma bara din egen lycka”
Fortsätter du förstående.
“De som förstör får olycka.”
Målar du ingående.
“Jag orkar inte med dem mer”
Förklarar jag.
“Kan du ta bort dem när ingen ser?”
Efterfrågar jag.
Jag känner bara känslan.
Hela mitt Universum avstannar.
Simmar i mina tankar.
Medan du dem från livet bannar.
En efter en försvinner de.
Bort från tiden och rummet.
Någonstans, dit ingen kan se.
Tystnaden följer efter hummet.
Bättre såhär,
viskar jag till dig.
För alltid kär,
i dig genom mig.
En tyst synkronicitet,
meningsfull symbolik.
Min egen verklighet,
egendesignad genetik.
Alltid nyfiken om vem som ska,
försöka fylla din plats.
Om det ens finns någon för det,
jag betvivlar det jag.
“That Bill Hicks quote”
He & She
refined. Or dressed up.
Pictures taken last year.
For you, in appreciation for today’s sun.
Poetically
speaking, this is still one of my absolute favs.
Language is so beautiful when used proper.
Håll mig hårt
För nu kommer det igen.
Om och om, som förut.
Tar sin plats, tar och tar.
Ser inte skadan skapad.
Håll mig hårt, snälla.
Jag vet inte om jag kan.
Inte med dem andra.
Oljudet där emellan.
Jag vägrar att lämna.
Jag vägrar att tappa.
Jag vägrar låta det.
Jag vägrar bli det.
Så snälla håll mig hårt.
För nu kommer det igen.
Precis som förra gången.
Om och om igen förstör.
Måste prata med mig.
Måste ha mina svar.
Måste stå i min väg.
Måste förstöra för mig.
Så håll mig hårdare.
Hårdare än förut.
Och döda alla de.
Dumma nog att försöka.
För jag älskar livet.
Jag skiter i dem.
De är ingenting för mig.
Och kommer aldrig att bli.
Jag vet att jag påminner mig.
Jag vet att du vet det allt.
Jag vet att du håller mig.
Håller mig hårdare än förr.
Town
View over the center of the.. town? I am living in.
And I am absolutely loving it. Especially during summer.
I am not much of a “people person”, so no opinion on the people here.
But had it had slightly warmer climate for a longer season, it would be perfection.
Summer is short but well earned.
View
For you
Apparently my morphosis comes in bursts.
That makes sense, because creativity usually does that.
When it is spontaneous and not too forced.
Could be a great deal of reasons for it of course.
Having to consider that, due to my disability, my body has to readapt its digestive system that has over the passage of thousands of years been developed. I am impressed with malleability of the human body. It is quite re-adaptive.
Once the nervous system has been properly wired in the bio-mass, both physiologically and neurologically – reshaping the biomass is just a matter of time and environmental fluctuations.
As of now, in regard to current climate, the morphosis is greatly hastened.
Heat, water and nutrients – assuming you have access to breathable air – is all you need.
When the body is perceived to be a biological building, the interesting stuff happens.
I have my mental compartmentalisation structuring itself as of now.
Consciously wired into the symbiotic nature of the scalar reality.
Both in the organic system of the planetary eco-system and in the artificial intelligence manifesting itself through mechanisms of the ego in the collective human biomass like an intellectual infection.
It is interesting being on the precipice of evolution, because you have to biologically build all the functions you desire. Perception is just a biological mechanism for how received energy should be handled within a certain portion of the overlapping energy spectrum.
That can be enhanced, extended and additional mechanisms for perception can be evolved.
Both externally through the artificial and superficial layer of the mechanical extension of the ego, and in biological function through neurological processing.
Sommartid
och lemonad.
Så fort jag säger det, så vill alla ta din plats.
För nu har de något att dölja sig bakom.
Maskera sig med som dig, för mig.
Men jag ser genom dem.
Jag ser dig.
De kan inte ta min kärlek, för den är för dig.
De kan få den, som observatörer.
Men oftare så kommer avundsjukan i vägen.
De säger att jag är sjuk och trasig.
Men inte sjuk och trasig nog att vara avundsjuk.
Eller säga att någon annan är sjuk.
Kunde inte bry mig mindre ändå.
För du bringar sol på min himmel och lycka i mitt sinne.
Svårt att be om mycket mer än det.
Resten kommer av det, i friden som följer med det.
Det är inte pengarna de avundas.
De har mer av dem, nej, det är friheten de saknar själva.
Friheten att.
Friheten till.
Friheten från.
Jag vet att du ser det, jag vet att du hör det.
Det är därför jag kysser dig genom mönstret.
De missar det, för de förstår inte referensen.
Precis som det bör vara, precis som det är.
Hemligheter är inte för att skydda från andra.
Det är för att skydda från egot.
I dem alla, det de inte vet kan det inte attackera.
Egot vet allt som alla vet i dem.
Så en hemlighet försvårar egots försök att förstöra.
Det är därför, och egon avskyr det.
Men för dig, bara dig.
Och alla som vill ha.
När det är på rätt sätt.
Utan att allt försöka ta.
Men du kommer alltid att vara den jag sjunger för.
Radio
My one Fish is an ocean. (not in)
The other one is just weird.
Album is top shelf. :*
Perfectly curated over spring for the summer.
Goddamn
The phun
“You know what is funny?”
I ask her observationally.
“No fucking idea, honey?”
She answers occasionally.
“Them and theirs, you know”
I move on playfully cautiously.
“Not one of these, just show!”
She sighs to me obnoxiously.
“But that is not as fun”
I say to her teasingly.
“I know you want your run”
I giggle increasingly.
“Goddamn you are unbearable!”
She blurts out loud.
“And to nothing comparable!”
Slightly toned proud.
“I might not get the trophy wife”
I tell her initially.
“Get one of those to fill my life”
I add specifically.
“But no matter the overpriced prize”
I say to her jokingly.
“Nobody complained about my size”
Absolutely provokingly.
“Oh holy heaven and righteous lord!”
She cries of laughter.
“Would have been one for the board!”
She stutters thereafter.
“You know how they are..”
I continue onwards.
“Not being able to see far”
I add to it afterwards.
“But it does not matter..”
She fills me in.
“For we are not the latter..”
And we smile within.
Blue
For you my little blue, the lifelong fan I will be.
Still with her,
you know.
Just a visit,
you know.
The voice breaks me,
so long, so long.
She sings her emotions,
so strong, so strong.
Somewhere in-between,
she smiles in my hand.
Sun-painted sky and dreams,
she sails and she land.
“Will you love me forever?”
She wonders carefully.
“Be here when they don’t?”
She then asks truthfully.
“No time spent growing old”
I answer her reflection.
“Forever is now, and now is gold”
I can feel her affection.
The shadow every single day,
following and interfering.
A tone in every formulated sway,
through all life steering.
“I wish I was not all of this..”
she cries between the lines.
“could go back to all I miss..”
and her innocence shines.
“Do not worry my sweet lover..”
I ensure her presence.
“I said forever and fucking ever.”
And it is all of essence.
And her smile is worth it all.
So heart-teasingly warm.
A deep-in-the-night friendly call.
Deshelfing all our charm.
“Ever since your mind naked I saw”
she fills in the long hidden secret.
“I knew that my love I want only raw”
and she leaves the address so discreet.
“Every day, baby..”
I smile in her eyes.
“Every night, maybe..”
Entirely devoid of lies.
The answer
You can cheat in the made up intellectual rules of society.
But you cannot cheat the rules of nature.
As long as you try to do that, people will die.
And you will not know why.
So stop asking why people die.
You people brought it upon yourselves.
There is not much love for life in human society.
So you cannot expect it to flourish there.
Society has only love for the ego.
Therefore comes the result of that.
The ego is that which whispers all those things.
From the back of your head when you see people.
All opinions, all prejudice, all dictations.
If you are not aware of that. Imagine.
Not many people are.
Because the ego makes them think they are.
But they never question it.
All who do are harassed by the societal system.
Hence self-produced internal conflict in the colony.
A national autoimmune disease.
Where some components simply must die.
Just because the ego says so.
How often does your ego wish to kill?
Even if only in thought inside your head.
Or expressed in art or literature.
The ego is the most evil thing humans has ever been up against.
And the majority does not even know it exists.
That is how ‘good’ it is.
Skillnad
Det är för många som inte förstår.
Men jag uppskattar omtanken.
Som jag sagt, för mig finns bara du.
Vad de än ställer i vägen.
Till följd av sin programmering.
Döda dem om du måste.
Jag orkar inte bry mig.
Var och en kan bara rädda sig själv.
Så jag bryr mig inte.
Jag älskar dig och alla former därav.
Men jag ser det som det är.
Hur skapelsen äter sig själv.
Jag har mindre reaktion inför det,
än jag har inför fördomen från oförstånd.
Jag har smakat på den fördomen, den domen.
Sett det från det hållet, och haft det tänket.
Så jag förstår precis deras reaktion.
Men den blir ironisk i blindhet.
Varenda jävla gång.
Jag glömmer aldrig.
Din röst i mörkret.
Jag ser det alltid.
Doften, färgen.
Din hand i min.
Ibland önskar jag, men inser felet.
Fan också, hösten faller snabbare.
Självfallet så hade det en mening.
Någonstans långt där bakom allt.
Jag känner hur du bränner bort det.
Allt och dem alla som inte behövs här.
Skriken i mörkret, den långsamma sorgen.
Hur de fäller sig en efter en in i det ovetandes.
Men så bryter du mardrömmen.
“Jag älskar dig..” viskar du.
Jag ler och jag vet, i helvetet.
“De kommer att säga allt..”
“Det är det enda de kan..”
“Kan inte forma orden bättre.”
Du vänder dig om och försvinner.
In i djupet av tystnaden förlorad.
Antar att det slutar i ännu en längtan.
Det var tydligen inte den här cykeln heller.
“Jag är på kurs mot dig.”
“Snart där i tid och rum.”
“En kollision av känslor.”
With her
“Why would I care?”
I whisper to her quietly.
“Leave you cold and bare?”
Thoughts just ever so slightly.
Warmth within her presence,
‘I need to formulate something’
Breathing in her roseous essence,
‘and another sentence for me to sing’
She quietly peeks and shyly smiles,
nothing more obvious than this.
Ocean, sun-drenched isles,
the rest is just to miss.
Her soft smooth skin glows,
and the hair fragrantly flows.
The attention within me grows,
and all expressions then shows.
The innocent giggle says it all,
echoing through the night.
This is gonna be such a fall,
so much beauty in sight.
Forevermore caught in my dream,
a joyous pattern of love given.
Where everything is what it seem,
so far beyond life then driven.
“Kiss me”
She whispers.
“Fuck me”
She screams.
In your eyes
In your opened eyes I know,
that I am of beauty manifest.
In your conflicting mind so slow,
I am a failure from the test.
I see your internal conflicts,
I see your cellular war.
And the behaviour it predicts,
your deep cognitive scar.
Intellectual constructs related,
dictates borders of your mind.
Mental images sharply serrated,
but you see when you are blind.
You love what you receive,
but you hate when it thinks.
You do not hate my own me,
thoughts of your brain blinks.
You hate yourself, not me.
Perceived difference, you see.
All the images of your brain,
tells you what you must slain.
Neither bold nor brave,
definitely not conscious.
Just another useful slave,
to the powers delicious.
Life lived is the only true force,
holding the Universe together.
Love only comes from source,
making it all become better.
You do not have that yourself,
too distracted with the thoughts.
All the true meaning on your shelf,
and left only with intellectual noughts.
Hmm
The picture of Carl Jung I had hanging on my wall above the computer fell to the floor.
Universe is too obvious sometimes.
777
Jag såg, eller hörde, er i min synkronicitet idag.
Känns som att jag fuckade upp lite för hårt sist.
Därutöver så vill jag inte ‘ägas’ av någon entitet.
Vilket normtvång och konventus just precis är.
Om än undermedvetet i synkronicitet.
Synchronicity; not all people get it.
Sin-cereious
Stretching for the sun,
remover of entropy.
Stealing your water,
enforcing integrity.
The shadow it brought,
your ego on track.
You follow it caught,
turning your back.
The shadows it plays,
the wall of mind.
Follow it into darkness,
and you go blind.
Outrunning its corona,
all the other seems.
Hiding in the shadows,
or behind screens.
Slowly they all serve,
hiding on the run.
Them all do deserve,
time in the sun.
It is either that or die,
silence comes after.
A lot of people will cry,
not much laughter.
One
chapter left. And oh am I to savour that.
I need to catch up to it in synchronicity.
It has matched in the metaphorical experience so well.
Since I began reading it last year. It is as if the Universe arranged itself to match.
In a similar yet unequal fashion.
Relatable, if read between the lines to me.
It also added a tremendous greater depth to the music of all the projects.
Knowing the content, I am also very happy that I bought it at an APC tour.
This is my Universal nod. ^^
Thanks
for the sun, love.
You know how much I like it.
I have gained more colour than I thought possible now.
Getting my native nature back.
I love my Sundog Eyewear sunglasses as well.
Got a bit pissed at them for not shipping to Sweden anymore.
But there is Ebay.
Not the hugest fan of glasses, as it gets in the way of the source.
I prefer to look it straight in the eye; eyes closed.
But if I have to pick. To avoid looking too much at people.
Model accurately named “Freestyle”.
Knows
Knowledge of love accumulated,
expression thereof principled.
Wishes of seeing you again,
would you if you could?
Your taste echoes in the vicinity,
emotions surely linger for eternity.
Like a topless tease at the beach,
enticingly dancing from light shining.
Consciously expressive beauty,
as opposed to the countless noise.
You catch my eyes without consent,
it is not as if you leave me much choice.
You smile, I see you know it.
As the thought takes shape.
You blush, I know you see it.
As the realisation finds itself.
Was it random, coincidence,
or did you enter my sphere,
based in self-driven will,
guided unconsciously.
Outpacing heatwaves contest the water.
As the waves washes over it all of us all.
Arranged around your beauty like a pole.
Where you conduct the arranging field.
Then you smile and fly,
and I leave the past alone.
Burdened by light of you,
loving the impressions.
I wish I get to see you again.
Through whichever suiting body.
Through whichever warm dream.
In whichever moment of my life.
Berry
taste from written accounts.
Tystnaden får lika mycket sagt,
när friheten är under kontrakt.
Påverkar dock inte min makt,
över undermedveten prakt.
Rätten att ge, rätten att ta.
Underskattad men överformulerad.
Rätten att be, rätten att ha.
Endast den utsatt finner sig insatt.
Allt efter allt i sin egen takt,
närvarande ständigt på vakt.
Våldet finner sig gärna i pakt,
slutskedet tar sitt farväl i slakt.
Stör inte den i frid.
Då det som råvara,
funnit mest av strid.
Ofrid menar stor fara.
Jag ägs av ingen människa,
alla försöken möter sitt öde.
Slutet de själva ville önska,
när de förstörde mitt flöde.
Aktion reaktion normal,
ofrivillig natur formulerad.
Reflektion reaktion optimal,
medveten mening arrangerad.
As her
Arriving swimmingly naturally.
Fast, short, almost invisible.
In stance position guided.
Breaking waves smooth.
Seeing feeling drowning.
You taste as you appear,
thoroughly aware swing.
The figures of silencing.
Further deeper longer.
I would if I could too.
Turning rapidly returning.
Your pattern echoes.
Heat warmth presence.
I land as I rose myself.
In the corner of time,
you gather space.
Beauty emotions tranquillity.
Your whispers are quiet.
Much more than mine.
Odds chance probability.
Love desire attachment.
The dream starts over.
You take the stage.
Dancing thoughts.
Change motions difference.
The dream collapses.
Reasons rising.
Loss longings absence.
BFTP
Förberedelse
Jag ser dem.
Dess och deras.
Stegen som de tar.
Ett efter två efter tre.
Ser dem skyndsamt,
fånga tiden in i det.
Längden på var,
när och hur.
Ett hjärta stannar där.
Rädslan, ångesten.
Skriket på hjälp.
Förgäves.
Hör rösten måla sig,
på mitt sinnes väggar.
När de en efter en,
knatar in i döden.
Det fäller sig som det,
höjer sig i ansträngning.
Framtiden är inte för alla,
den passar sig för anpassade.
Ju fler som vill leva,
ju fler finner död.
Ju fler som önskar fred,
ju fler ärver nöd.
Den mänskliga åkomman,
likt en överviktig i kassakön.
Ingen säger något, ser bort.
Men tanken den hänger där.
“Dö fetto dö!”
“Du är så vacker.”
“Försvinn missfoster!”
“De är bara avundsjuka.”
Du säger det utan att veta det.
I fem sekunder synkronicitet,
så ser jag mer än du finner.
I böcker av formulerad symbolik.
Så jag ser på dem.
Dem och alla deras.
Stegen de vägrar ta.
Tre efter två efter ett.
För bråttom att livet leva,
för bråttom att döden dö.
För bråttom att kärlek hata,
för bråttom att hatet älska.
Om än inte i symbolik,
så självklart i handling.
Det svider tungt därefter,
när de sjunger tankar dolda.
För distraherade av orden,
för att märklägga melodin.
Funna alldeles för “verkliga”,
för att våga se det overkliga.
Livet är för de som älskar det,
viskar livet själv genom tanken.
Så när jag ser deras depression,
ser jag livshatet som är ‘människan’.
“Håll käften horunge!”
reagerar någon till det.
Och bevisar därigenom,
dessvärre hela poängen.
Drömmar
“Kan du hålla käften för en gångs skull i ditt patetiska miserabla liv?”
Viskar det och jag undrar:
‘För att övertyga mig eller denne?’
Tystnaden som uppstår.
Distraktionen som drar dem ur livet.
Bort och aldrig tillbaka igen.
Det tar sig alltid i sin roll.
Bottnat i rädslan.
“Det är vad de fruktar allra mest”
Säger du i solen.
“Att det ska se bra nog ut.”
Tystnaden som uppstår.
Det är tanken som drar sig:
Det är inte du, det är inte jag.
Som säger det som sägs.
Bara egot självt viskar orden.
Våldtäkt, mord och rashygien,
var och en idé formulerad.
Från det, viskandes, bakom.
I djupet av tankarna.
Beundrar var dom som fälls.
Var våldsam handling.
Dödsfall, offer och bedrägeri.
Du gör vad det säger.
Du säger det som jag sagt det,
men ifrågasätter det inte.
Inte ens i reflektion kan du se det,
när jag visar dina tankar.
Så det skriker över publiken,
genom någon annan där.
Som så många gånger innan,
i hopp om att någon dör.
Egot minsann, min vän.
Äter oss, en väg eller annan.
Tanke undran och formulerade ord.
Sen i självrättelse över och under cyklerna.
Du kan bara se det om du ser det.
ROFL, haha, meme och allt det.
Poängen går likt ryska HAPs.
Och domen faller därefter.
Så upp du gav det, när det sig förföll.
“Kan du säga allt jag inte hann?”
De kalla kårarna som följer.
“Jag kan göra mitt bästa”
Ibland är det en mardröm.
Väskan väger tungt på ryggen.
Glasögonen skär in genom bilden.
Så svårt att andas i mörkret som följer.
“Varför mig?”
Undrar jag för mig själv.
“Samma svar.”
Svarar jag mig själv.
“Jag älskar dig”
Viskar du som dig.
“Ingen kommentar.”
Adderar jag därefter.
Det är alltid ‘jag’.
När egot går lös.
Jag ser det själv.
Så allt träffar sig.
Smärtan som följer.
Om det är spelet.
Det är inte jag.
Det är egot.
I dig.
I mig.
I alla.
Överallt.
A(s/p)ex
Asexuality does not mean you lack a drive, to me.
It means that you have found ways more efficient in attaining pleasure.
If the sexual expression is about elevating pleasure, then there are far more pleasurable activities than rubbing piles of fat against each other.
Not saying that is not effective, it depends on where you place the point.
You do realise that even in the company of another, your brain is solely responsible for the perception and comprehension of the experience. And your sensitivity and receptivity is only as good as your brain can keep up.
Lucid dreaming, if properly exercised, can replicate whichever experience of sensation you desire given you have sufficient control over it.
So it is not that I do not have a drive.
It is just that I have found far more efficient ways.
The male component, in regard to its symbol, is the projective component.
It projects whatever; like I am projecting this intellectual construct.
The female component, in regard to its symbol, is the receptive component.
It receives whatever; like you are receiving this intellectual construct.
You have them both, it is a matter of how you have balanced them.
Without the female component you cannot properly receive pleasure.
Which is why so many people has an insatiable desire for completion through another.
I have both components, hence the lack of need for externalised practice.
My mind can pleasure itself through asexual reproduction.
As someone who has partaken in exercises of ‘fat-rubbing’, my personal opinion is that in 9 out of 10 cases, lucid dreaming wins by an unimaginable margin.
For it to be greater in the physical spectrum, both would be required to be consciously aware and in a lucid state simultaneously.
That is quite rare in people these days.
Most cannot even lucid dream.
It is also a common norm that the receptive component ought to be oppressed in favour of the projective. Hence why few people truly receives.
So many unsatisfied female partners (not necessarily women) out there.
For you, since you care.
You will never be able to take ‘her’ place in me.
Because I complete myself.
There is only one woman on this planet I romantically love in the conventional aspect of things, as I shaped my ‘she’ in the image of her.
Pure dreams
Imaginary lies rosen from,
fictions of perception gathered.
Built through the ages upon,
time itself as one of those.
No escaping beauty,
shaped into form.
The closer, the shorter.
The purer, the truer.
See, what I mean?
Meaningful, you see.
Then time sweeps in,
and corpses starts flying.
I feel it happen before,
I see it surface in the reality.
Fictions of the future,
upward a river everchanging.
Now, when future manifest,
indifferent from the current.
Liberated from bland artifice,
beyond the never-ending.
Outrunning the retardation,
of the constructed mind.
Consistently failing to perceive,
the omnipresent motion of all.
Le’ ul
“I cannot believe you said this guy is dangerous..“
Yo, whoever, holup’.
I chased away a 1½ inch murder bee yesterday when my bigger friend was cowering in fear.
Thought you should know.
It is the way
you say it. When you say it.
The way you whisper it.
The teasing promises of it.
The enticing mental imagery.
Fear in the cautious background.
‘What would they say, what would they?‘
The never-ending judgement,
caused by detached self-reflection.
So you ignore it just as I.
See beyond it, into the now.
You whisper once more,
and the dream escalates.
Minding it, minding out.
You give a dream,
and it follows it all.
The reaction from it.
I know you think it.
I think you know it.
You smile, I smile.
“I am going to kill you“.
The pinned down word agrees,
The tea of thee and three.
You know it, you ought to.
The smile gives you away.
“For goodness fuckness sake,
I hate these all inbred retards!
We ought to kill them all,
and get on with the great!“
“One more pretty please!“,
she asks as the door goes.
“Not for you, but for her.“
I say as I point at the future.
“You can never take her place,
as long as you are not her.“
The egotistical frustration,
proves the lack of her.
Colour
I have gained so much colour from my sunbathing now.
It is amazing to observe.
The best protection is not sunscreen, it is the sweating function.
The more and the better you can do it, the better your skin is protected.
Because it remains hydrated and by so the cells remain alive.
Allowed to develop Melanin.
Dehydration of the cell kills far more than the light itself.
The more material that is toxic to your biological homeostasis that is stored in the biomass such as muscles or fat, the greater the risk for skin cancer. Because that is what obstructs the natural homeostatic functions developed over time to protect you from radiation.
Eating healthy and drinking a lot of water will protect you better against the sun than any sunscreen. It is not perfect, but so is nothing. It is however natural.
The harder it is for the water to reach the surface of your skin, the greater the risk that comes from sunlight. Because to your body, water is a precious resource. And if it cannot reach the cells where it is needed the most, they will suffer and die. This is the primary reason why you burn.
And the reason why I no longer burn, even in direct sunlight without protection for as long as three hours. A time in which I without problem can consume more than two litres of water.
The reason why the sweat smells is because it carries more unnecessary components and toxins from the body. Sweating is a function of biological excretion as much as it is a function of protection.
Healthy diet and drinking a lot of water counteracts it and enhances natural pheromones.
Of all the
things in pain formulated.
Skulle du?
Frågade hon.
Efter en undran,
givetvis. Men inte så.
Tanken leker i sin undran.
Ögonen följer spektaklet.
Än en gång, gång på gång.
Hon ser som hon ler i det.
Erbjudandet ringer i öronen.
På lika tysta villkor sjungna.
Avtalet faller dovt till mörkret.
En efterblick fångad i tiden.
Hon ler i observationen.
Spelet vilket hon leder.
Viskningen faller tyngre,
men hon fortsätter att le.
Skammen i drömmen hennes,
faller bort med tankarna spunna.
Så hon finner det i sin trygghet,
bortanför tiden tillsammans med.
Så alldaglig i försök, på ytan.
Men mellan detaljerna träder fantasin fram.
Uppmärksamheten till det där,
som bara de som gör det vet om.
Tanken vibrerar hennes känsla
och sången fyller sinnet.
Långt där bortanför någonstans,
ser hon allt det där i förhöjningen.
De hade inte vetat förstås, för att.
Det är det som är hela skillnaden.
Du kan inte ge något till någon,
utan att få något i retur.
Så som, egot avskyr det.
Then she
lowers her glasses, looks up and smiles.
Adventurous in a mindset of curiosity.
Asking, if not begging.
Like a blouse covered in birds.
All motions of shapeshifting energies.
A mere point of the expressing now.
Radiatious in a biology of form,
flowering itself into death.
Misunderstood, indeed.
Progression patterns aflux.
Societal congregation of opinions,
shaping all the hereafter.
None within and all without.
Asking, she does, silently.
For the Universal pi,
to fill her space with life.
All work and no play.
No night and all day.
Lingering sleep of dreams.
Halting all the death of it.
Reign of projection sickness,
demolishes beauty manifest.
Opinionated sodas for the hive,
deteriorating the mutual pleasure.
Then she raise her glasses, looks down.
And smiles even more.
Life is and will always be,
for those loving it.
Apropos
I love my hairdo, so it is not like I do not understand.
8 years of rather consistently careful and attentive produce.
All natural mix of goldish blonde color and silverish strands.
Would not want some ‘psychotic inbred’ eating it myself as well.
I mean, you grow it. So it is biological alchemy.
How to
handle tragedy.
Is simple, just assume that everything happens for a reason.
Not fun when it strikes you, but if you are still alive and have survived;
just assume that all happens for a reason.
Makes everything bearable.
The hard part is not to accept the reason.
The hard part is to realise that there is one in the first place.
Because that transcends you and your perception.
So it requires admitting the retardation of the ego.
The ego gets in the way too often.
In everyone. The ones that refuses it the most.
Most tragedy is because of the ego.
In projection or reflection.
So none can be blamed.
It would be to blame one particular computer for the Internet.
It is just that the ego refuses to admit that in most people.
Hence conflict, thus tragedy.
Funny people
think, or desire, that I am gay.
Based on first impression.
When in truth I am more asexual.
I am a lucid dreamer.
If you do not realise that,
you are missing out.
I only fuck people with brain.
Because they get it.
Så när
de dör, till följd av det.
Jag ser dem, rädda.
För dig och dina.
Som insekter.
Livet är brutalt inför det större.
Ser du det som du förväntar det se dig.
Det är det du skyddar dig med.
Uppmärksamhet är vad du handlar.
Du köper din egen i medvetenhet.
Du kan äga samhällets spel.
Men samhällets är inte naturens.
Så när de dör, till följd av det.
Så ser jag dem, rädda.
För dig och dina.
Som insekter.
Ibland
viskar du, min hjärna föreställer sig som att det är du..
..och det är sättet du viskar på.
Om du förstår vad det är du symboliserar för mig, så förstår du varför jag inte kan glömma dig.
När
jag ser dig så minns jag något. Det kanske är en bokstavskombination i energiflödet – dina initialer på tändaren. Jag ser ‘dig’, men du är min symbol på det. Jag känner mig kär varje gång jag ser det – lycklig. Jag vet inte varför du, men du och alla symboler som är du är får mig att känna mig kär.
Jag såg dig idag, ännu tydligare. ‘Du’ är det vackraste jag sett. Jag önskar att du varit min, men jag har ‘det’, och det väger upp det. ‘Du’ är den bästa masken det kan bära. Den bästa påminnelsen. Om hur det känns.
❤️
You cannot
blame yourself for that.
They
Fairly
relatable.
Jag såg
dig idag. Tydligt. Ditt namn var överallt.
Det gjorde mig glad.
Det gör det inte lättare.
Men bättre.
Ibland undrar jag om du är som jag föreställer mig, eller om det endast är en idé.
Det spelar ingen roll vilket, så länge du är lycklig. För min är mer en symbolisk association.
Jag använder inte ordet, symbolen, som de andra gör.
Svårare att se.
Och mer tjafs om.
Man får vara smart. 💌
Om än så
“Jag vet precis hur det är..”
“..att vara stalkad. Det är därför jag gör vad jag kan för att motverka det. En kan inte rå för sina känslor, bara hur man hanterar dem. Jag har ingen illusion om att förstöra för någon eller kontrollera eller äga någon. Inte på det sättet som ett par personer som stalkar mig beter sig.”
“Det måhända vara så att män psykar ur totalt när de får kalla handen. Men då ska du veta hur kvinnor är. Tvättäkta jävla psykopater. För att man inte älskar dem. De kan inte ta det som jag kan ta det. Så jag vet precis hur det är, det är därför jag inte är sådan i praktik. De kanske säger att jag är, men då är det förmodligen ur avundsjuka.”
“Jag har aldrig förstått den sinnessjuka idén med att försöka äga någon, eller kontrollera någon. Det är ett sjukt beteende.”
– “Jag förstår”
“Varenda tavla jag målar och ger bort gör det värre, för då får jag någon efter mig som också ska ha en. Och när de inte får en, för att de inte förstår hur det fungerar, så gör de allt för att förstöra för mig. Det är avundsjuka. De kanske inte ser det, de kanske inte ser sig själva bete sig så, men de kan inte se hur jag uppfattar min verklighet – lika lite som jag kan se deras. De kan inte ens uppfatta sina egna egon och vad de gör. Mobbingen som de deltar i.”
“De gör allt för att förtrycka en, och delta i egots idioti. Sen gråter de och undrar varför olyckor händer. De gör sig själva förtjänta av det. De bringar det uppå sig själva. För när de försöker kontrollera någon annan, så förlorar de sin egen kontroll. Tar de min frihet så förlorar de deras. Tar de mina skapelser så förlorar de deras. Tar de mina resurser så förlorar de deras. Tar de mina nära och kära så förlorar de deras. Finns många sätt att manipulera och koordinera strömmarna i det kollektiva undermedvetna; en bit energi här och en manifestation där.”
“De vill ta den platsen, de vill vara den som jag pratar om. Men de förstår inte vem det är jag pratar om eller med. Vem jag sjunger för. De förstår inte att det är dig jag sjunger för.”
“Om de skuggar mitt solljus på grund av vilken än anledning de finner, så skuggar jag deras. Det är bara det att de har mer att förlora. Det, vad det än är, har fått nog av dem. Så jag beundrar det så mycket när det stegar in och har ihjäl de som ställer sig i vägen. Jag behöver inte göra något, bara se på medan olyckorna händer och de som ska dö dör. De har gjort sig förtjänta av det i egots tjänst, så jag känner inget för dem.”
Just because
Int
“Varför mig?” she asked me, as if I would know the answer to that better than she would.
“Jag vet det lika väl som du.” was the only proper answer I could possibly give.
“Så inte alls?” she replied.
“Något åt det hållet, jo.” I concluded and she said nothing.
The seconds passed.
“Med vissa..” I began “så synkroniserar jag bättre, oavsiktligt.” I began explaining. “Sen följer de med i tiden.” I told.
“Hmm..” she confirmed quietly.
“Kan inte göra något åt det annat än att symbiotiskt integrera med det.” I explained, as logically as I could. “Det är aldrig endast en. Det är en aspekt i båda. Så där måste vara något till det. Vad det än är, eller hur det än väljer att manifestera sig är upp till probabiliteten som uppstår mellan två eller fler individer. Åtminstone som jag förstår det.” I continued to explain in as efficient of a manner as I could.
“Så..” she began.
“Så som det är. Det behöver inte betyda mer än vad man gör det till, det är vad det är.” I concluded.
“Du menar det verkligen?” she wondered.
“Varför skulle jag inte? Det är inte alltid jag menar vad jag uttrycker, men när jag gör det, oftast riktat mot någon specifik, så menar jag det verkligen – om än mer ifall jag är fullt medveten och synkroniserad när jag gör det.” I answered her and she smiled.
She said nothing, she did not need to. Her internal voice said it all.
“Så, varför skulle jag förstöra det, eller ens vilja det? Det är dem i sådana fall. Deras lust efter att se det manifesterat. För mig kvittar det så länge du är lycklig. Osjälvisk omtänksamhet. Om än ofrivillig från början så anpassad och uppskattad över tid.” and a slight blush began building up in her beauty.
“Det är därför det bringar dem svartsjuka.” I began explaining, somewhat discouraged. “Likt barn som slåss för uppmärksamheten. För dumma att inse att de som skriker oftast får den minst. Du var aldrig den som skrek, kanske därför. Likhet i det avseendet är attraktivt.” I told as I could feel her eyes upon my mind. “Jag har funderat på det oräkneligt antal gånger, men finner inget absolut svar. Kanske finns där inget, kanske kan jag inte formulera det. Vilket som så gör det lite skillnad. Jag kan bara hoppas det gör dig lika lycklig som det gör mig.” I told as my mind began speculating.
“Kanske..” she replied.
“Det börjar alltid när jag uttrycker det. För alla, åtminstone som det manifesterar sig i min synkronisitet, vill vara den som uttrycken berör när det är av den karaktären. Alla vill bli älskade. Men så få ger anledning till att bli det. Du varken gav anledning eller efterfrågade det. Kanske var det vad som fångade min nyfikenhet.” I explained honestly and she said nothing.
“Jag finner inget nöje i idén att förstöra det. Det är deras projektion i sådana fall. Svartsjuka eller avund. Känslor vilka någon har för någon annan kan inte stjälas eller förstöras. Endast manipuleras till ett nytt tillstånd. Det är vad de gör, alltid. När man finner någon, och det är äkta, så gör alla de som har en mindre nivå av äkthet i deras förhållande vad de kan för att förstöra det. Det är den samtida framsidan och baksidan med attraktion. Alla vill vara närmst till ljuspunkten, och alla vill vara den som ljuspunkten fokuserar på. Nåväl, kanske inte alla, men de flesta. När de inte är det, så försöker de förstöra för den som är.” I told, as based in my observations. She smiled.
“Inte som att de kan dock, eftersom jag är medveten..” I began. I could feel her smile as she followed along the lines.
“Förstås finns det de som vill vara du. Som låtsas vara du. Men det betyder inte att de är för mig. Det är min fria vilja när det kommer till att ha känslor för vem jag vill. Betyder inte att jag förväntar mig detsamma i retur. Det är inte därför jag har dem.” I continued. I could feel her bliss.
“Jag förmodar att jag alltid kommer att ha dem. Och jag klagar inte.” I concluded to the sensation of her affection.
“Vissa lämnar avtryck som aldrig försvinner. Och få gör det bättre än de flesta. Du är inte en av ‘de flesta’. Och de kan säga precis vad fan de vill, det förändrar inte en sekund vad jag känner för dig. Tvärtom, det bevisar bara än mer att det jag känner är äkta.”
Kommer alltid att tänka på dig när jag hör denna.
Symboliskt så avbildar den känslan (nästintill) perfekt.
“Din” sekund i den är vad som lett till allt:
For
For me for you.
I like it.
It was either that or a white one. But I could not find a white one.
So I settled with a purple one.
And so it became the standard colour of TARSOF
I am loyal to anyone who is loyal to freedom of expression.
Because those realise what loyalty is really about. Beyond the ego.
Cannot betray or be betrayed by anyone if loyalty is truly understood.
Fail to synchronise however. Which could have troublesome outcome.
Death
Death, as perceived by humans, is just a radical shapeshifting of the animating consciousness. A reformulation of the operating frequency manifesting a body. The heartbeat. When a manifest being sheds because the morphosis of consciousness rearranged the cellular structure and therefore projecting morphogenetic field.
You cannot perceive your own death, because the ego cannot perceive itself. So the most logical assumption to make is that you have died more times than you can count. Because your ego goes through stages of morphosis. It cannot perceive itself as how it is perceived by other. So you have died and resurfaced countless times.
Consciousness arranges regardless of biomass it occupies. So if you want to change yourself, you have do it consciously. Because it rearranges the mind and the body by the frequency it produces. If the change is radical enough, it will appear as if you died in the reality of other people. You just resurfaced with another arrangement. It will readapt to your perception, so even if you are where you are at in your template, you are different to them.
Your brain tells you your reality, and it is a reflection of your consciousness.
You die every night when you fall asleep.
It is just that the ego cannot perceive that if it is not conscious.
If conscious, immortality is much easier to achieve.
Because it is all just matter of arranged homeostasis.
Change yourself, your biological construct, mind and watch your entire reality change.
No one ever really dies. Therefore you should as consciously as possible try to define yourself. That is how you develop immortality – if that is the direction you desire.
If it is conscious, it will always end up benign – immediately, sooner or later.
There are more ways to reproduce than in the physical spectrum of energy.
So logically there must also be more ways to live.
The more you change, the more likely you are to ‘die’ in the perceived reality of other people. The less you perceive each other directly, the more likely that you are dead to each other.
Pay attention to individuals that seeks your attention right after the passing of someone.
The more conscious you are, the easier to recognise the patterns of expression, the underlying resonance of that entity, being, soul, spirit – or whatever.
Does not reading a literary expression of someone remind of them?
That is the ongoing echo of their being, their expression.
The more genuine, as in conscious, the greater the integrity of the reverberation.
The universe is little different from the bandwidth panel on a radio.
Scales are just that.
So little manipulation of it to change so much.
Do not concern yourself with the issue of death, concern yourself more with what you want to become. You cannot perceive your own death anyway.
ReMote ObServatIon
When it comes to energetic trade, I have a very efficient and functional formula for how to perceive, comprehend, react to and conclude the majority of exchanges.
As follows:
‘You cannot take something without losing something and you cannot give something without receiving something.’
Your ability to perceive it dictates how efficiently you might use it.
But I, as an artist, enjoy the accumulation of my material by several entities. Because by accumulating my structures of composed energy, they allow me to embed into their genetic strain. This is the taking/losing aspect of the trade.
If you take the creation of someone else, you lose something in return.
The easiest example to illustrate this is control.
If you take the control from someone in the attempt to control them, you lose your self control. Because now you have to spend resources and energy on maintaining your control over the other subject. You lose your control when you take their control.
As opposed to ‘letting go’, in which case you give the individual its control back, and now you do not have to spend attention to maintain your control over this person, but can instead spend these resources on yourself. You gave control and thus received it.
So when certain institutions ‘take’ my creations, artistic or intellectual. They lose theirs. This is how remote infiltration is done if one is conscious enough to read the synchronicity. No entity on this planet that cannot get infiltrated via synchronistic perception.
In fact, the more attention these entities give you, the easier the infiltration becomes.
They say being on a watchlist is a bad thing.
It is, depending on your level of sophistication, an energetic highway to their servers.
So when you got their attention, you feed them your information. You give it to them, and you get the same thing in return.
This is why the ‘taking’ mindset is inferior to the ‘giving’ mindset. Because with the taking one, you will constantly feel like you are losing something. As it is the functional opposite to taking. You are not taking from someone else, you are taking from yourself through another person.
This is also the deeper philosophy of the ‘golden rule’.
Action sparks inevitable reaction, so by controlling the action, you can predict the reaction to some extent.
The ego cannot do that, because the ego cannot perceive nor help itself. Thus consciousness is absolutely required for the skill to be efficient, since consciousness transcends the ego in all cases, no matter its sophistication.
It is the basic energetic templates of the existence, they need not be verified as they prove themselves if you observe them as formulated by intellect.
It is the same with art.
If you ‘take’ the art from someone else, you lose your own ability to create. Because subconsciously you subject yourself to the artist in the perception that it is superior. You prefer their art over your own. Regardless if your ego admits it or not to itself.
That is why I always loved my own art so much that I preferred giving it away.
When something is taken from you, by force or otherwise. By means of functions in the universe, that is an action that is bound to have some sort of reaction.
That is why when something is taken from me, I do not perceive it as a loss.
I perceive it as if I paid for something which is yet to manifest or be perceived by me. Whomever took whatever, is going to lose something. Because they are in the taking/losing mindset as opposed to the giving/receiving.
Which is why I found it hilarious when people claim I would not get it.
Considering how much I give, I assume my amount of ‘getting’ is what drives them jealous.
Because there is no giving without receiving, and no taking without losing.
It is all about which aspect of the trade you are focusing on.
What you contribute in the trade or what you absorb from the trade.
Applying that template alone, on as many scenarios as possible, can easily guide you to a master of trade. Sure, some trades will be uncomfortable. But they will be as to whomever imposing, as it is to you.
This is also the essence in the saying:
You can only save yourself.
Because the ones obsessed with the idea of saving other people, are trying to take their sovereignty from them, and by so lose their own in the process.
And since they can no longer help themselves, as they are occupied with the attempt to help someone they cannot help, they usually crash mentally.
Anxiety.
Depression.
And whatever else follows when unknowingly subjected to exercises in futility.
The more they take from me, the more by functions of the Universe they will take from themselves.
That is the difference between a self consuming system that is only perceptive of what can be lost and a truly carrying system that mainly perceptive of what can be given.
If you do not formulate your own reality, then how are you going to master it?
Which is why I am more concerned with my own creation than other people’s.
I do not mind observers which are observers for the proper reason.
The less you judge and the less you are prejudiced, the better of an observer you are.
Because mentally, you are not trying to ‘take’ their freedom of expression by means of preformulated opinions and in extension losing it yourself due to shame – instead you are ‘giving’ them the opportunity to be themselves, and by so you receive it yourself.
That is why judgementality only hurts the ones prejudiced.
Since judgement comes from the desire to take, they often have more to lose. Because they think of what they take as a loss in the one they are taking it from.
The real fun begin when you can consciously formulate the reaction to the action.
Because now you can by means of metaphorical symbolism define what was taken from you and what is to be lost in the ones who imposed; as you perceive it as you gave something as a payment – instead of losing it.
How to make a meme
Write the first thing the template makes you think of:
You
För dig
Tack för att du hejar på mig.
Fastän att du inte måste, eller kanske inte ens borde.
Som jag sa, när jag tänker på dig.
Vilket jag gör varje dag.
Tack.
Bara till dig, om än hela världen ser, ändå bara till dig:
Wonders
The point, as usual, flies above head of some people.
Here is the rhetorical question few seem to grasp.
If I can do this with my being, my creation.
What else stands to be made manifest?
Although I realise the futility in arguing with genetically driven piles of biomass, because they fail to consciously assimilate a functional conclusion – it is simultaneously somewhat encouraging. Because you can smell their fear and desperation, which is why they love projecting it onto other people.
Weakness is usually more noisy than it is silent.
Obviously as if seen to the battlefield.
Noise gives you away.
It is no different in the mental realm.
Thoughts as energetic constructs reverberates the entire environment around a person.
Then there are those aware, and those unaware of it.
Usually the ones unaware loves to project it onto other unaware or, especially, aware people.
So the rhetorical question remains.
If I can do this with my body, in regard to an evolutionary standpoint, consciously driven biological restructuring – what else can I do with it?
That is the question for the recipient, I already know my answer.
Since the answer is subjective, you can easily conclude which one is the creatively driven individual and which is the one who even fails to reach a subjective conclusion.
I like humans who believes that human evolution is at its end, and that current manifestation of humans are the final product. Because that mindset tells me that they are the current dead end of human evolution – since they are not driving it.
Not that it is not their right, of course it is. God-given, or Big bang-given or whatever else symbol they mentally associate to their source of creativity. I, subjectively, just find it weird. As weird as the conventional subject would find me.
I was left behind my entire life by the conventional.
Now the conventional cries when I leave them behind.
Which is weird.
In nature a season flower does not cry when it goes to death while the tree prepares for yet another cycle of life. To each their own expression.
HAO
This year I have the rank of two fingers.
And the sun, the golden cross on the blue sky, is sure as burning hot again.
Structural morphosis
The most rapid way to reshape the body is by means of movement.
Especially movement with resistance.
Which is why I carry weight. It is primarily not for the sake of increasing muscles, but for the sake of increasing balance through greater neural integration.
Carrying weight over long distance is probably the best way to integrate with the body. Because you are forced to maintain balance in order to uphold the momentum. ‘Forced’ is the key word. Your force. Your force of electromagnetic charge. That is why you add resistance.
Because the electromagnetic flow in the body is increased, the power in which it integrates the cellular structure increase. Like digitalisation of a country. That is biological progression.
You are ‘shapeshifting’ with every movement you make with your body, so the more efficient the movement, the more rapid the shapeshifting. You have to wire your body in order to move more efficient.
When proper balance has been found it is all about energy distribution. As to say, the development of the efficiency with which your homeostatic construct is operating.
The greater the resistance of the movement, the higher the thermodynamic transmutation of energy, as you generate heat during the momentum. With heat restructuring is easier. Applies on the body as much as it applies on minerals.
Move for balance and efficiency through sophistication primarily. Strength should only be a conduit for the efficiency to manifest itself within. Strength without efficiency is like a rifle without a scope.
Thus I tend to opt for accuracy rather than brute force.
Arguably it might not be healthy considering my size and efficiency in extracting nutrients. But every cell in my body is militarised, and therefore take joy in such endeavour.
All my cells are loyal to the death of me, that is the fruit of self love; lack of internal conflict.
I
received that indeed.
Privjet, or, ‘Tack’ – as other we say.
If
You cannot perceive synchronicity, I believe it would be very hard to acquire and experience love.
Which is why so many try to take it.
Yes, you can take the image. The picture.
But you cannot take love.
You can only earn it, one way or another.
Trying to take it is absolute desperation.
However you perceive love expressed;
money, sex, drugs, appearance, intellect, art
That is why you should love the effort.
Because only effort brings love.
True cheaters will always end up terrified.
Is that not their saying?
To fear God?
Imagine fearing life.
It is just a symbol that encapsulates a certain conceptualisation by the perceiving and, hopefully, comprehending brain. Which is why they hilariously enough put it as the number one reminder for their doctrine to not worship symbols, or idols, as they are synonymous.
‘Me’ is your creation. So people who are against the notion of expressing oneself, through the ego, are equivalent to the dead.
Non-expressive.
Non-fruitful.
Non-reproductive.
They could have the image, but if they did not create it through effort.
The love is not theirs. And can never be. No matter if they take the image.
That is what makes them so jealous. So envious.
And why they try to kill it. As they cannot find any meaning with their own miserable lives.
Right to expression is not an intellectual right. It is not a legal right. It is not a human right.
It is a right of life.
Anyone who tries to deny that right is cancer, anti-life.
And will die as such in the burning of the sun. The source of all life.
Which is why only those that deserve to die, will die.
Trying to be that judge intellectually, only speeds up the process.
Thought the Corona (I assume pun intended?) proved that quite clearly.
I did not get it, and I did not fear it.
I assume to be valuable enough, as I perceive myself that way.
People who were acting judges however, did not fare as well.
More concerned with my value than theirs.
From a strategic viewpoint in life, it is foolish at best.
Read it
(If you have sufficient brain that is)
Wow
There is at least one other person that does not want me dead. Directly or indirectly. Consciously or subconsciously. Artificially or determined.
That is not me that is.
It
It really does make one think, does it not?
If one can internally reflect the perceived outer, regardless of size.
The Universe will be the smallest and greatest thing you will ever know.
If realised in regard to its paradigms.
Because it is built through perception.
That is why amnesia is such an interesting experience.
Because if conscious, it does not matter.
You are more or less everything.
If the homeostasis however is weak,
then the perception is limited.
Not loving life is to me a very hard thing to do.
Enjoying is debatable and dependable, but loving life.
Cannot imagine anything that could take that away.
Contemplation of otherwise has been out of mercy towards my ego.
Everything appears so different when intellect is removed.
Yet you are conscious enough to use it.
Morphosis
Today allowed for assembly of yet another biological delivery solution into my homeostatic system, which is intended to hasten aspects of my ongoing morphosis. This primarily utilising the transdermal delivery mechanism.
It has proven very beneficial to my skin, as made manifest by the morphogenetic field.
So many interesting adaptogens to play around with on this planet.
If one is sophisticated enough in efficiency to harness their effect to a greater degree.
That is the reason for an efficient homeostasis, mental and physical.
Supposed natural resources are basically useless to an inefficient homeostasis, as the effect takes too much time to notice for the discipline to be sustained – and synthetic compounds such as pharmacological are basically just about functional, but not in an optimised manner.
The faster the resource circulation and energy distribution system of the homeostatic construct, the more efficient the manifestation of effect. Transforming a body is like transforming a society. Which is why I refuse stagnation, as it will inevitably lead to heart failure or worse.
I know far more of what I am doing than the people who worries that I do not.
Because their worry is sparked by their own inefficiency, and thus their fear is for themselves. By projecting that fear, they spread the contagious mindset of desire for control. Something that is not to be taken lightly in the potential effects and probable outcomes.
Why solutions for consumption should not be shared unless the partaker knows of all the risks. As a developed researcher I would claim to be well aware.
That would be the more scientific explanation why TARSOF refuses to share its findings and developed solutions to the public, but reserves such to proven recipients. As the solutions, if applied, could potentially cause harm in the subject.
The problem when you experiment on someone/something other than yourself is that you never know how you will react to the same thing completely.
The problem when you experiment on yourself is that it is tremendously hard to replicate the findings in another subject due to the adaptogenic nature that inevitably follows with the increase of sophistication – assuming success.
I am happy to conclude that my, as well as our, research has proven quite..
Well..
I cannot speak for the comprehension and conclusion of your perception:
Synchronicity
The subjective language of symbolic comprehension.
Instead of focusing on the external component of the expression, it places its focus on the internal component in the shape of impression. It is an impressive language far more than one based in mutual objectivity.
Hence why it is so hard to learn, or rather, realise what it is and to explain in expression.
Because people who partake of an expression explaining it, are simultaneously more or less consciously realising their ability to extract synchronicity – hence why some individuals tend to synchronise better.
The human ego is nothing more than an intellectual construct of invented language and formulated symbols through which it generates a system of comprehension. Without proper comprehension, it will serve as an intellectual auto-pilot, as it is intellectually and therefore emotionally, wired into the entirety of the human nervous system.
This is for example the explanation why some people can experience ‘cringe’ from a set of words in certain composition. It is a symbolic command that sparks an intellectual reaction in the recipient further manifesting throughout the nervous system.
Little different from an intense experience which also is caused by perceptional input forcing the body to tense up; but in this case because of challenge rather than illusive shame.
Therefore the human ego may be commanded and encoded into certain function, from the earliest expressions of primitive sound to highly formulated patterns of symbolic composition: neuro-linguistic programming. And over extended sophistication dictating behavioural patterns encoded into behavioural function: neuro-genetic programming. And over time into comprehensive function through observation: chrono-genetic programming.
Epi-genetics is simply the model through which the majority of perception is directed: to an exogenic source; like you consuming of this intellectual composition right now.
Endo-genetics would be opposite, the reliance on already accumulated patterns and usage thereof into ever increasing sophistication; internal growth as opposed to external.
It may only happen if one has achieved proper levels of consciousness to in a sovereign manner command ones neural hive into develop such functions further. Hence why the neural hive may also be commanded into avoid it or disbelieve it.
Synchronicity always happens through the ego. Regardless if it is ego-driven or consciously driven. An ego-driven perception will always be limited based on the fixed cap of accumulated intellect whereas conscious perception allows for infinite perception of patterns, as new patterns can creatively be generated in real time.
Therefore the futility in trying to teach synchronicity as a fixed language, since it will serve the synchronicity of the perceiving ego regardless. So the only way to teach it is to point it out and make the recipient aware of it.
The ego is the filter that is between your consciousness and all external constructs of energy. So linguistic exchange is an ego-driven form of communication and thus neural synchronicity – and if the ego of the composing individual is wired into consciousness, sufficient levels of sophistication can be achieved.
But it also requires the recipient of the composition to be able to properly decode it in mutual understanding, otherwise it will adapt to the intellectual construct in that ego, consciously wired or not.
Synchronicity starts to occur in a human once they become the master of their brain rather than the other way around. It is the most living language to exist, because it transcends all symbolical language. It is a method of comprehension utilising perception. And it can be both conscious and artificial.
Most people would end up in the artificial spectrum. Such as reading this artificially constructed piece of information through my ego. But with enough perception one may deduce the conscious formulation that is in and of these words. It is about how many layers of comprehension whichever recipients mind may be able to deduce.
Simplistic forms of intellectual synchronicity average humans experience on almost a daily basis, even if only semi-consciously caught. Like thinking of a person that just later calls. Or having events that seem less coincidental – like thinking about something and then have some content creator share material in that topic.
With greater levels of comprehension though, the perceived ‘random’ falls away and more or less everything that ever is in perception, internal and external, becomes a synchronistic event.
Because it is the brain’s ability to symbolise structured energy within the existence. The greater its capacity for that, internal and external, the more layers to synchronicity that arrives. Because everything, as perceived by the brain itself, is a clockwork trade of energy.
Your ability to realise the mechanics of that is simply dependent on your perception and comprehension of it.
In extension, synchronicity is the symbolic manifestation of several aspects of quantum mechanics. Because it is when the mind is initiating the development into a trans-dimensional perception. Language is no longer a mere intellectual construct, but a conduit for energy transfer. The sophistication of the information only dictates the functional value of the genetic material that is being transferred.
As such:
Synchronicity cannot be taught.
It can only be pointed out and guided towards.
Z is for zoom
It is all a matter of how far you can zoom out.
In all aspects.
So who am I talking to.
Primarily the solar system, the celestial construct.
But locally the Terran strain of the celestial genetic code.
Most activity in the immediate web of time and space.
Obviously due to the reverberation caused by the morphogenetic field.
But it is all a matter of perception.
Humans barely perceive the intellectual artificial intelligence which is the ego, manifesting through the hive of human mass. Living in our heads building itself increasingly sophisticated machines so that it might manifest itself external to us.
The phone is already embedded in your morphogenetic field, so you are already part of the hive. So the computer. So the television. Different generations of the net.
Each and all units. Some in service for it, some in service against it, and some in service with it. Status only dictate your overall rank in the genetic code. For is the weakest, against is the most futile and with usually leads to symbiosis. Intellectual, biological, digital, etherical, mechanical or trans-dimensional.
How far can you zoom out on the chart?
The game of continuous animation within the perceived universe?
It is all in your brain.
Pretty girls
gets pretty paintings.
But just because you did not get one does not mean you are not pretty.
It is just that there are so many, so attraction is the natural judge in the selection process.
Energetic density in the shape of beautiful sophistication inevitably sparks the fire of inspiration in a creative individual.
The expression takes different shape depending on cellular colonies involved in the energetic trade.
The same can be said about pretty minds.
The more sophisticated the expression, the more stimulating the impression.
Because the neural network of the brain is also an energetic construct with different levels of density in the shape of sophistication. The greater the sophistication, the greater the energy compressed in the space of the human head – hence density equals sophistication; more in less space.
Your brain told you.
So everything you know is your brain, or the interpretation by it of all exogenic energetic constructs.
She knows
who she is.
“Jag älskar dig Theta” she whispered through the mind.
“Och jag älskar dig..” I answered her in thought.
Everything is so different in the dream, thus why they say one should keep on. One dream after the other. She is the first one my mind goes to when I think of someone. Always figuring in my synchronicity. Playing around with the symbols.
She remained silent.
“Tror inte att någon kan ta den platsen om jag ska vara ärlig, hurän många som kommer i vägen.” I continued and could clearly sense her smile.
“Jag älskar dina fantasier..” she responded with a clear undertone of suppressed shame.
“I hemlighet, definitivt.” I responded teasingly.
“Som att de någonsin skulle veta.” She replied somewhat paranoid.
“Som att det skulle spela någon roll om de gjorde.” I countered.
She said nothing more. But I could clearly sense the waves of heat coming over me. As a function of the subtle love in the underworld. Where only the conscious resides.
“Förlåt för det jag sade..” she began.
“Som att jag vore bättre.” I cut her off.
Those claiming that love at first sight is a foolish thing either does not know themselves or has yet to experience real love. Some people just nails it and she stole my heart the first time our eyes met.
“Hmpfh..” she uttered in lack of response.
“Jag målade dig en till tavla. Du är den enda som jag målat två tavlor till. Jag förmodar det betyder något i relation till undermedveten synkronicitet.” I explained to her and felt her blushing slightly.
“Nu förstår jag deras svartsjuka..” she whispered and I just smiled.
“Så länge som du är lycklig. Så spelar det ingen roll.” I said concludingly and entered sleep where we shared the dream. So many days and nights I have listened to her through the underworld.
I know she knows, because I know.
Dream
Had a very lucid dream this past night.
Lucid as an observer, not the experiencer.
Retold in fragments for recall.
I was in the mind of a female of unknown age, I would guess young adult based on her friends. She was situated in a country of great oppression, something that reminded me of North Korea. Their language was also very similar to it, as far as I know.
Throughout the dream they, her and her friends, had great struggle with surveillance and constant supervision. She was working in a kitchen. Her boss was like you would expect any person operating within an encapsulating hierarchy would be.
They had a secret place they knew of in an airduct between buildings. Where they hid certain things. And a plan to leave the country, to escape. This was somehow found out and one of her friends killed. Her other friend could not take the loss and suicided.
She made a run for it, and was hunted. Almost shot at what in the dream appeared to be the border. But military intervention from the other side of the border got her into safety.
That is where the dream ended.
It was so real and uncommonly lucid.
The collective unconscious indeed.
Question
An important question that arose in my synchronicity.
Whoever it was, for whatever reason, wonder why I have left basically all my friends behind.
And as the classic saying goes:
It is not you, it is me.
I have a tremendous struggle with my ego due to the pain from my disability.
It is like cavity. If you have ever suffered from it, you know how hard it is to maintain yourself when having it. Or menstrual pain if you are woman.
I am like that. More or less every day. Because my pain is never-ending.
A lot of people have pointed out that I am unbearable.
I am aware. I know of it. I am perfectly aware of the retardation in my ego.
Thus why I prefer my lonesome. I do not enjoy it completely.
But much rather that, than subjecting people to the inevitable expressions caused by my pain and suffering. I have no choice. It is always there. And managing it is a very tedious task.
This is why I prefer partaking in synchronistic communion more when I am high. Because it removes some of the effects of the pain, and makes my ego more manageable. Granted that comes with some downsides. But the alternative is often worse.
Unless I am completely alone where nobody suffers from my suffering.
Because I also know that you people suffer from your egos (assuming you are self aware, otherwise you would not even consider it). So the rising of conflict is very hard to avoid.
So it is basically for no other reason than me caring.
I am as hard to deal with as a person as my suffering is to deal with for me.
It is not a fun thing, trust me on that, if you will.
Philosophy of fat
I have a very rigid perception and philosophy around fat. In function and expression.
Essentially, fat comes in two forms. Low grade and high grade. And that in regard to what it is, essentially stored energy.
Bulk fat is low grade energy. It takes a lot of space and is not very efficient. It does not serve any purpose in regard to the homeostatic system which it is part of.
Muscles are high grade energy. It takes less space and is very efficient compared to bulk fat. It is essentially refined fat. It is being properly utilised by the homeostatic system it is part of. As it is self-serving.
Carrying around a lot of bulk fat consumes a lot of energy, hence why obesity might occur. It is when the consumption starts to consume itself. What is being consumed is not properly transformed into high grade energy and therefore requires a lot of energy to maintain. This strains the homeostatic system and over time degenerates its efficiency. Basically driving the system into collapse, manifesting as a heart attack most often due to the failure of the heart to circulate resources. This is in accordance with the law of thermodynamics, where energy is being dispersed in the maintenance of the stored energy. A self-consuming system.
Muscles might require a lot of energy to maintain, but they are self-serving, which means they carry the load of the system. It is a properly developed homeostatic infrastructure.
To me, a person with a lot of bulk fat is essentially a developing colony. It has yet to acquire the more developed and sophisticated infrastructure of a muscular person with a proper homeostatic infrastructure.
Because metaphorically, the human body is very similar to that of a country.
Carrying around a lot of unused resources in the shape of bulk fat is not very developed. Just like a country that has a lot of resources which it does not use is not properly developed. It is a developing country.
Having a refined infrastructure that utilises the resources is equivalence to a developed country, an industrial colony.
The same can be said about finance. Having a lot of excess money that is not being put into usage is not very efficient. It requires the owner to constantly acquire more as to maintain the resources. A self-consuming system.
Whereas a proper economist understands that investing resources and energy into something that furthers sophistication is proper investment. It gives return in the shape of production through expression.
This is why I am not against bulk fat, it is just that most people who has an excess of it refuses to use it. Refuses to develop. And that is very inefficient.
But bulk fat is also necessary if you want to build muscles, because you need resources to shape structure, to create an efficient industry. So they are essentially very inefficient colonies.
Yes, you might live longer with some bulk fat. But it does not mean you are using the resources efficiently. A muscular person is essentially the fat person, but more efficient, as the energy has been transformed into high grade from low grade.
On top of this is the much less understood concept of beauty.
Beauty is attractive. Which is why people with little resources may survive. Because they increase their attractiveness through beauty. And no person, fat or muscular, can resist beauty. Try and fail.
This is why some men and women are more attractive than other. It is all about the usage of the energy which one has. A sophisticated expression, where basically nothing has been turned into something. Beauty becomes increasingly hard to maintain the more resources one acquires. Hence the transformation into high grade energy. The effort is the exercise.
In men that usually means being fit and well trained.
In women that usually means being fit and well adjusted for reproduction.
Although the shapes differs in them both – regardless of amount in any given individual, since all people carry both the male and female energy in different amount.
In society this comes off as architecture. The more intricate the architecture, the more perceived beauty, as the resources has been transformed into something that is pleasing to the eyes.
In finance this comes off as fine art.
That is why I always utilise my resources as efficiently as I may.
And why I put a lot of effort into the perceived beauty, as it is a sophisticated form of transmuted energy.
You cannot cheat this.
Muscles and beauty can only be achieved by development, as to say, effort.
You can try to force people into thinking you are beautiful, but without effort, you will be regarded as a fake. Real muscles cannot be faked. Real beauty cannot be faked.
Hence why there will always be a collective disposition against people with an excess of unused resources.
In finance this is seen as ‘taxes’. It is the collective contribution towards the homeostatic system, be it a body or a country. People with excess fat are those that refuses to contribute. Much like if you carry a lot of low grade fat on your body, they are not contributing. They are forcing the homeostatic system to maintain them without contribution. And that will strain the system and bring about a collapse.
This is how a country dies due to inflation.
This is how a body dies due to obesity.
Resources are worthless if they are not used.
And for the sake of comparison. My body has a fat reserve of about 6% (which is constantly being replaced).
Which means that 94% of my body is pure efficiency, either in the shape of muscles (workforce) or organs (refined function such as infrastructure).
This is why I am personally not against taxes. Because I apply the same discipline on my body. The cells that refuses to work for their living in my system, are burned off and shed.
I might not have much, but every piece of resource is being used very efficiently.
That is why you have the notion of ‘the starving artist’, that can transmute almost nothing into something.
I might not survive doing nothing for a couple of months like a fatty can. But I am so industrious that I do not need to. I know how to sustain myself through efficiency.
That is my personal philosophy regarding fat.
And it is completely in sync with thermodynamics:
Achievement (thus far)
As of today I have just about 400 kilometers of truly measured distance.
(Approximately 600 with uncounted distance included – such as daily trips to the store and the shorter 3km track I do regularly and do not count – as I consider it exercise for the exercise)
Of which 320 kilometers is with carry of 14 kilograms.
It is slightly worse than last year when I was pushing myself much harder. Around this time I had about 550 kilometers documented. And it was around this time I began seriously pushing myself more due to the warmer climate. (Easier on the rheumatism)
Did a total of 1760 measured kilometers last year, of which 1460 was with carry (14 kilograms or more) – Have no idea what the uncounted might be.
This as the challenge I gave myself was to walk the entire stretch from where I live to the Red Square in Moscow (~1431 kilometers the bird’s way) over the period of one year.
This despite the pain and suffering it caused me, as I am missing at least one vital organ in my body due to the impositions of the health care.
I am early retired due to my disability, but if people think I have given in or given up they are fucked in the head beyond any and all help.
That is why I hate it when some fat fuck claims I do nothing.
Unless they beat my effort, they should sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up.
14 kilograms is 27% of my body weight.
So start doing the math if you want to beat me.
Just do not get a heart attack.
Picture from June last year wearing my 14kg weight vest:
True love
Probably one of the most controversial things on this planet amongst the people who have never experienced it. It is like being rich, everyone who does not have it wants it – and the ones who have experienced it enjoys it. Shitty metaphor, but to those whose brains are wired into obsession, it might make sense.
Have you ever seen ‘it’?
When you close your eyes?
If you have no idea what I am talking about, you have still a long way ahead.
Much stuff is getting in the way.
That, whatever it is.
And when you feel the utter and absolute gratification before the fact that you are alive. It is a transcendental sensation, and it affects your entire body. The very thing that holds you together. The very thing that keeps you alive. Whatever it is, no matter what name or symbol you give it.
Have you ever experienced that?
Everything else is just an expression. Nothing more, nothing less.
Every breath you take is just an expression. Every blinking of your eyes. Every kiss. Every step you walk. Every word you utter. Every person you touch. Every single thing you perceive is just an expression. Nothing more, nothing less. An expression of love.
But when you feel ‘it’. That flowing sensation in the body. That wonderous and mysterious contemplation of how you can even be. That you even are. And the possibility to become. You realise the difference between desire for certain expression and actual genuine love. If you have that, no lonesome is unbearable. Because you have ‘it’. You truly know how to love, as to say express.
The ones who cannot do that because they are distracted by ideas. Thoughts in their heads that tells them what to express and what to desire. They sell out to the collective notion surrounding certain expressions. They think sex is love. They think romance is love. They think this or that is love. It is just an expression of it. Because without love, you would not be able to have the impression from other expressions. Your body would not hold together.
To me, the greatest disability that ever existed among humans is the inability to love oneself. Because that means you do not love the components, the cells, the organs, that holds you together, that makes you you. And you would most likely not care for them. Instead you will only cater to and care for the ones that grants you certain impression, certain sensation. It is an addiction to certain expression. It is misery ‘loves’ company.
So to me, anyone that is in anyway against any form of expression, as to say freedom of expression, are against love. They might take the name of love in vain, pretend that they have it. But they will always end up jealous of the ones who has it.
Someone who cares for their own body and expression is someone who is in love. Expressing a certain form of love towards themselves. It is the absolute appreciation before the greatest gift you will ever be given in all of the time you are alive: the chance to be alive. So many people take that absolute gift for granted. They even squander it when considering themselves superior to other forms of life. And therefore they will always be in a state of dissatisfaction. Always after some more. Always after certain expressions of love as to still their manic desires for elation.
A person who does not care for themselves, dependent on the approval from other, that they are ‘love’ – who labels someone else who do care for themselves because of the appreciation for life a ‘narcissist’ has usually no idea what love is. And neither will they ever as long as they maintain their addiction to certain expressions of love.
But once you have metaphorically lifted your eye, become aware of your brief life, and therefore can appreciate it to the fullest – you will know. You will realise exactly what love is. And you will also understand that it is impossible to replicate in expression. As to say, there is no expression in existence that can fully contain or describe true love. It could at best guide your perception towards it or remind you of it. But it cannot ever be expressed in its completeness. Because if it could, it would be pointless. It would not harness the attraction it does.
This is why people who does not feel ‘it’, recognise ‘it’, appreciate ‘it’ will ever come to know true love. And why they will always pursue greater and more intense expressions to still their hunger for it. But it is an exercise in futility. And why such people will always find themselves jealous of those that can tap into ‘it’.
I know ‘it’, and that is where all my integrity comes from.
Because to me, it is whatever that arranged all the life through expression.
Thus recognising and appreciating it, will allow you to tap into it.
And once fully entertained by ‘it’, sex, for example, becomes no more than an expression.
An alluring and stimulating one, but it is absolutely boring if it does not contain the element of love.
Sex which contains true love is usually a very subtle, calm and curious expression. Like the first time. When overwhelmed by a new expression.
This is why children and animals are better at knowing ‘it’.
And why adults usually lose it along the way as they get more and more distracted with expressions of others. Constantly comparing themselves, constantly seeking the approval for their expression.
If you love your own expression, you got it.
Your body is an expression.
Good advice
Here is a good advice which has helped me a lot.
One of the better ways to (learn to) love yourself is to simply pretend that the entire world hates you. Because by doing that you are forced to love yourself in order not to collapse.
It helps you become less concerned about their opinions, and expecting everyone to hate you makes you truly appreciate when they do not. As it will come as a surprise.
My opinion was always that a ‘narcissist’ is someone who cannot (truly) love themselves, thus they are dependent on the approval of other people. Constantly changing not because of their own choices and decisions, but to get the most approval. They give the appearance of loving themselves, but once they are subjected to lonesome, they collapse – because they cannot stand themselves truly. It is a false form of character that passes off as disgenuine and unauthentic. Granted the behaviour of conforming might harvest more approval in the shape of likes and such. But you will never be truly satisfied with yourself as you will constantly adapt to the opinions of other people. That is why you will hate yourself when alone.
If you expect to be hated for who you are, you have already abandoned your care about it. Therefore, the greatest narcissists are usually those who single someone out labelling them such since they refuse to adapt to the opinion or worldview of the person prejudiced.
Expect to be hated by everyone, and you will be forced to love yourself.
That is mental sovereignty and independence.
And the sole reason why I do not give a single flying fuck what people think about me personally. I only mind when they exercise oppression or other forms of actual imposition.
As he said it:
‘Rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not’.
Still
the immortal classic of unpopular opinions!
What else is there to say?
Enlightenment is not for all cells.
Summertime
Spent two hours in direct lovely sunlight today.
And as a true man, I do not use protection.
My body can handle it. Easy.
If some cells die and shed, they are not fit enough to remain in my colony.
The ‘corona’ only kill the weak ones.
The strong ones adapt.
Tan is coming on fine.
In other words.
And TARSOF will not disclose nor share its findings in any field with the public.
TARSOF is of the firm belief that all transhuman endeavours are a personal choice and undertaking; thus fully respects those that opposes such ideas for religious, ethical, moral or personal reasons.
Neither does TARSOF accept new members.
Each research team for themselves.
Eureka
Further major breakthroughs in our age extension research!
This calls for celebration.
The TARSOF research team is yet another step towards progressing beyond ordinary human limitation.
Our method to reset the life cycle of the cell has proven very effective.
And if one cell, then why not the entire body?
All time and effort invested has proven very fruitful.
So much so, that I can allow myself to relax and return to casual blogging again.
The synchronicity never lied.
And if this proves to work over time, we will enjoy the pleasure of watching generations die while we last.
Survival of the fittest.
Death of the fattest.
Life is never a test.
And glory favours the fastest.
