Friday, August 21, 2015

The Apocalypse of a Nameless Einstein

You are your own Einstein. The only wealth is being. The only job is teaching no one. We have forgotten how to conjugate the verb, to be. Start with I am.

If x is 10,000 seconds to be, how many is y dreaming. After all the questions are answered, there are no answers. The only thing you can't believe is your self.

Being is wordless but not unspeakable. The closest translation is unconditional love. It's not a question of immortality; it's the fact of no beginning.

I can never speak to one still talking. After awakening is the revelation. Every summer, it's me, yourself, and I sitting around the apocalypse, speaking.

Confusion is always in the turning. It's not about finding someone to love; just love before you think. Know love self-correcting is just karma. Think more different. Think mystical.

Science has yet to prove itself. Of the world, translated, is serious. In the world, translated, is love. The past is right before your eyes—now is right inside you.

Writing about nothing is comedy; dying is impossible. Between the socially-conditioned and the unconditional lives the recluse. There are two ways after one way but neither is memorable.

The shaman prescribes against a future. The shaman doesn’t recognize the past. Loose ends long for re-attachment. Enlightenment is post-psychological.

The plutonium rule is just to be. Self-inquiry is both our first and last rites. One, shine the light upon yourself. Two, translate truthfully. Three is nonduality of That. 

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