Sometimes you eat the ouroboros and sometimes you’re its vomit. Self-awareness is never pretty.
Self-awareness is self-realization in real language. If I’m not talking paradox, I’m not really talking.
Construction is easy. Deconstruction is hard. Caterpillar, leaf, tree, ground, earth, sun, black hole.
I come to clean myself of the world tonight in a mythic shower of silence. In this stream of consciousness sometimes we sink sometimes we swim. Tonight we float. Sometimes I dig history. Sometimes I lose track of time.
Keep your eye on self-awareness. Make it your mantra. The living room seems so much smaller when there’s something other in it. It is said natural perfection is absent, open, spontaneous, and unifying. So I’m resting in consciousness to wash out my ears.
Absent like emptiness. Emptiness like transformation. Transformation like impermanence. Return to absence. Open mind, open air, open sky, open space-time. Everything is broken open. Spontaneity is the only constant! Unity is unborn. The end.
Without divine imagination, there is no self-awareness. And with belief there is no self-awareness.
Thought is a tool to be used and not to be one’s identity. Without the concept first, there is no mirror. There is no turning within the mirror when the mirror is believed.
Two iambics followed by one anapest, to indicate the turn, pursued by five iambics to the very end.
Space-time is just a cross-section of self-awareness. Self-awareness is the aura of the unknown.
The unknown is like a black hole. Science theorizes there is a black hole by its interaction with light. I know it because I am it.
This is dedicated to the one I love as revealed by Longchenpa Rabjampa seen through the lens of Keith Dowman, in particular his translation of Longchenpa's Treasury of Natural Perfection.
Mixing the relative with the absolute makes the absolute another concept.
Stay with the deitic point
of the concept
until
semantic satiation is occurring
and all that is remaining is
the deity.
One, the concept is I am.
Two, the deitic point is being.
Three, semantic satiation of the concept is
the actual point of mantra—
being.
For non-conceptual being is the absolute
as I am That.
Look, just between you and me, nothing happened here
If consciousness is the sun and sunlight is the stuff of dreams,
then the furthest experience to be known is that which the high priests of scientific materialism call the black hole of the unknown unknown.
Woe are they who do not know I am that.
Happy new year!
Take one. Consciousness is the aura of the absolute's self-awareness.
Take two. Consciousness is the aura of my impersonal self-awareness.
Bonne année!
And as the absolute, I cannot emphasize enough that all is well.
You be you, my love.
Feliz navidad!
This is the key to western paradox.
From the outside, it looks like fate.
From the inside, it feels like free will.
Felix sit annus novus!
There are no sides. There's just belief.
And as belief is disbelieved, belief becomes one-sided.
Self-righteousness is the antichrist of self-awareness.
Akeome! Kotoyoro!
Self-awareness is a pre-existing condition.
Shana tova!
Repeat after me,
I am...
unborn .
Consciousness is the bridge between the lyrical and silence. Consciousness is the expression of silence. The lyrical is the expression of consciousness. The mind is fine, the movie is groovy, all manner of things shall be well.
Divine imagination is the lyrical mirror of self-awareness. In fact, consciousness is the bridge to nowhere from nothing. Universal consciousness is like a blast of self-awareness in slow motion.
There’s no disease called separation. That’s why it’s called the universe. It’s also called the cure. Take one every day. Some call this Zen meditation. Some call this Christian science. Some call this as it is.
Mindfulness is to lucid dreaming as amfulness is to self-awareness. This is perennial math. This is my lotus. Take, eat, American beauty. Anne Bradstreet is to Jack Kerouac as
the Merrimack from Andover to Lowell. Like Passaconaway to Agawam is as hogan to kiva. The dreamstate doesn’t serve just somebody. It serves the enlightening intent of absolute self-awareness.
1. last case of 2020
In the end, it’s just a case of great forgetfulness and mistaken identity.
Like trochaic intent falling into dactyls and anapests.
Or an I for an eye.
There’s nothing wrong with dreaming. Everyone does it.
2. speaking suddenly
When the fog of personality disappears
the black hole / blank screen is dispassionately witnessing
the sunlit mirror of universal consciousness and worlds appearing in it
as spontaneous kensho/revelation of sudden self-awareness so to speak.
3. greetings people of earth
I am writing myself a melody baroque by self-addressing this love note to you.
As in poetry, all wars are formal. We’re like mythic frogs practicing their haiku in boiling water.
The penultimate is the ultimate paradox. It’s either paraverse or western bartleby by eastern samadhi.
There is no personal choice. Enlightening intent is the strangest of ways. It’s my new year's resolution for you. Enjoy!
You too can be a consciousness power user. Awareness is reflected in consciousness like the sun in a river. The deeper the river, the steeper the slope.
On the bottom is rock ego. As in the mercurial mirror of self-awareness, what comes down must go up.
The sea is seeing through these waves of thought. The deeper the sound, the higher the deconstruction. The opposite of a paradox is a paradox.
Dream catchers catch the thought behind emotion so only the love is moving through. There are two sides to every story, mine and yours. R2D2, turn on ocean sounds.
I think I’ll write an epic poem tonight said Dante to the inferno. Self-awareness is in the sap of DNA. Kesey spelled it furthur.
Every universe is a wave. I’m on the beach Bodhisattva would you take me by the hand. Every wave is perfect duality.
Julian of Norwich is singing into the bonfire all is well. Hearts are beating like my Jesus. Someone plays Picasso guitar. Elvis is pointing at the moon. Li Po is jumping into the water. Basho is talking to the frogs.
i
Political extremists, socialist or libertarian, base political theory on people being beautiful.
People are not beautiful. People are garbage, beautiful garbage.
Because people are garbage, governments are created. But all governments are garbage.
Garbage in, garbage out.
ii
There are variations to this theme.
There’s the son of heaven. People are garbage but the leader is beautiful.
There’s hard factionalism. Our side is beautiful. Their side is garbage.
And endless combinations of this utopian garbage.
But ‘we the garbage' is some kind of beautiful genius.
