Letters to the Revelations

Without this being, what is love? Without the known, what is that great unknown?

You can try to build a better mousetrap or know you're not a mouse. But seeing through this something is not the same as seeing nothing.

The world has tried affirming its own unaffirmable and nihilism will deny the undeniable. Deconstruction is the dark beginning—

many will get lost within that wood. The world is what it's not but I am what it is.

Division is division only when it’s seen within division. Beyond division, division is intent for that unknown to know this one is that unknown.

Awareness in this consciousness is suddenly aware awareness is but what it is and this phenomenon is nothing.

Thus, the world is your reflection; think but nothing of it. This illusion, even though inherited, is utterly self-generating.

You are all the power and the glory, love. Be this universal. Speak that absolutely.

An Epistle to Death

The universe is called the universe because it’s one holistic entity but yet we cling to superstitious magical beliefs

of separate body parts that live untouched by universal interactions, are endowed with free volition, and are born, survive, and die—

like me—although, as me, I never actually experienced my birth and only know about my future death by some conceptual conjecture.

In truth, there’s only self-aware existence, name it God the Child, and that unknown unmanifest foundation, name it God the Parent,

and its Immaculate Intent to know itself, which seems to take a universe to execute, evolve, and do.