While on a psilocybin trip, I decided to put on Dredg's new album Pariah Parrot and Delusion. I was getting some trademark tryptamine-esque audio distortions during "Savior" and the wires under my desk were engaging in a wavy dance. I felt my mind spinning out into a fractal ether, entering the Other realm. Immediately I knew what I needed to do, so I ran to get a little batch of spiced-up marijuana. With one foot already out the proverbial spaceship door, I hit the DMT+THC combo without hesitation. My "pre-enlightened" state caused the DMT to envelop my reality unobtrusively like liquid filling in the cracks of a broken machine. Immediately I was overcome with that visceral "DMT feel" where every single point in space takes on its own life, as if every single grain of sand on a beach came to rainbow-colored life and began to dance with each other. The prominence of rhythmic visuals taps into the cosmic groove--unmediated reality is a dance!
At the base of the mountain I, the fool, contemplate only despair. Seeking to rise above the dread of the pit of man's soul, I begin to ascend, grasping in my heart my journey's manifesto:
I have gone to the realm where witches and wizards play
I have vexed eternal patterns and
stared godly figures into existence
I have painted the walls with my crimson hand
and shouted my existence from rooftops
where down below the peddlers pay’d not a glance
After only a moment, I arrive at a nexus. In front of me, a beautiful celestial dancer appears from the wall. Her movements are infinite and unreal, her Being unmediated by the limitations of flesh. I am being introduced to Maya. Her back is turned to me, and she is not threatened by my appearance. O! how she teases me so! O! Feminine essence, that which is normally so tediously and indirectly revealed through the perceptions of sensual actuality, is revealed to me directly in its essence. She seduces me with her giggling cosmic grace, her being is created anew in every moment, morphing and tempting me to embrace the ecstasies of inexistence!
But, nay, I choose life! Life is perpetual duality, movement between contradiction, the reconciliation of Paradox, a reaction, a process.
After my dance with Maya, I seek to discover what it is that opposes Maya's beauty. I continue to burrow into the paradox at the base of my psyche. I slip between the orientation of the compass in my hand, into the cave to kneel at serpentine altars and declare my deliverance.
And at the summit of my journeys, I proclaim:
“WHERE ARE YOU, DEATH?
HATH YOU NO HAND HERE
TO GRASP MINE AT THE TOP OF THIS CLIFF?
WHERE ARE YOUR LIPS, SO THAT I MAY TOUCH THEIR COLD ABSTRACTNESS!
AHA! YOU ARE BUT NOT REAL!”
‘Nay, naïve fool!’ Father Death hath replied!
‘I am more real. You have fallen under the spell of Woman. Her flesh, that so near to yours, that you can take in your hands, that too thrives on air, water and the elements…that is but the illusion presented. Your sensual desires have overtaken you! You are weak!’
“What matter you, Death, if you cannot touch me, here, on my hand? Why shall I not take the hand of a mistress, the flesh so real and warm?”
‘I touch your life eternal! No mere proportion of time and space can withhold me. The eternal power you seek lieth with me. The liquid of my essence rusheth forth to fill the cracks of your fractured soul!’
“No! I am at the mercy of no Death!”
‘Then at the mercy of a Woman? Ha! A more pithy and pathetic existence I cannot conceive! Take your choice, wretched mortal!’
“God! Why hath you forsaken me?”
‘My son,’ Father Death replied, ‘or hath ye yet forgotten,
the price or an evening with devil
is a lifetime on the moon?’
On Maya vs. Father Death or: The Masculine/Feminine
On the one side of the Causal Curtain, I must affirm mySelf as a SPIRITUAL BEING. A sense of autonomy and a personal relationship with the divine can only come from self-exploration, intense introspection and a burning desire for Wisdom. An acceptance of Death as the necessitator of your spiritual existence. The Other that you feel within you, that is your own death. It is what necessitates your being as an Abstract Idea. Your subconscious digs your own death into the world of your Ideas...and completes the fabric of your own Abstract-Existence. Death lends your Abstract-Existence its own end, its own means of completing itself as a singular entity. Death energy is singular energy is masculinity.
On the other side of the Causal Curtain, we have the most immediate fact of our existence: the body! I must affirm mySelf as a SEXUAL BEING. This is a political role, a social role, a realm gloriously populated by the beauty of others! On this side of being, there is no completion to be found within the solitary Self; the singular entity within this mode of reality must plug himself into a greater fabric to find self-actualization. Sexual energy is shared energy. In this mode "Happiness is only real when shared." The world of immediacy, the essence of your Concrete-Existence, is Feminine.
A balance of both of these is completely necessary. I find that many tip the scale towards one end or the other.
At the base of the mountain I, the fool, contemplate only despair. Seeking to rise above the dread of the pit of man's soul, I begin to ascend, grasping in my heart my journey's manifesto:
I have gone to the realm where witches and wizards play
I have vexed eternal patterns and
stared godly figures into existence
I have painted the walls with my crimson hand
and shouted my existence from rooftops
where down below the peddlers pay’d not a glance
After only a moment, I arrive at a nexus. In front of me, a beautiful celestial dancer appears from the wall. Her movements are infinite and unreal, her Being unmediated by the limitations of flesh. I am being introduced to Maya. Her back is turned to me, and she is not threatened by my appearance. O! how she teases me so! O! Feminine essence, that which is normally so tediously and indirectly revealed through the perceptions of sensual actuality, is revealed to me directly in its essence. She seduces me with her giggling cosmic grace, her being is created anew in every moment, morphing and tempting me to embrace the ecstasies of inexistence!
But, nay, I choose life! Life is perpetual duality, movement between contradiction, the reconciliation of Paradox, a reaction, a process.
After my dance with Maya, I seek to discover what it is that opposes Maya's beauty. I continue to burrow into the paradox at the base of my psyche. I slip between the orientation of the compass in my hand, into the cave to kneel at serpentine altars and declare my deliverance.
And at the summit of my journeys, I proclaim:
“WHERE ARE YOU, DEATH?
HATH YOU NO HAND HERE
TO GRASP MINE AT THE TOP OF THIS CLIFF?
WHERE ARE YOUR LIPS, SO THAT I MAY TOUCH THEIR COLD ABSTRACTNESS!
AHA! YOU ARE BUT NOT REAL!”
‘Nay, naïve fool!’ Father Death hath replied!
‘I am more real. You have fallen under the spell of Woman. Her flesh, that so near to yours, that you can take in your hands, that too thrives on air, water and the elements…that is but the illusion presented. Your sensual desires have overtaken you! You are weak!’
“What matter you, Death, if you cannot touch me, here, on my hand? Why shall I not take the hand of a mistress, the flesh so real and warm?”
‘I touch your life eternal! No mere proportion of time and space can withhold me. The eternal power you seek lieth with me. The liquid of my essence rusheth forth to fill the cracks of your fractured soul!’
“No! I am at the mercy of no Death!”
‘Then at the mercy of a Woman? Ha! A more pithy and pathetic existence I cannot conceive! Take your choice, wretched mortal!’
“God! Why hath you forsaken me?”
‘My son,’ Father Death replied, ‘or hath ye yet forgotten,
the price or an evening with devil
is a lifetime on the moon?’
On Maya vs. Father Death or: The Masculine/Feminine
On the one side of the Causal Curtain, I must affirm mySelf as a SPIRITUAL BEING. A sense of autonomy and a personal relationship with the divine can only come from self-exploration, intense introspection and a burning desire for Wisdom. An acceptance of Death as the necessitator of your spiritual existence. The Other that you feel within you, that is your own death. It is what necessitates your being as an Abstract Idea. Your subconscious digs your own death into the world of your Ideas...and completes the fabric of your own Abstract-Existence. Death lends your Abstract-Existence its own end, its own means of completing itself as a singular entity. Death energy is singular energy is masculinity.
On the other side of the Causal Curtain, we have the most immediate fact of our existence: the body! I must affirm mySelf as a SEXUAL BEING. This is a political role, a social role, a realm gloriously populated by the beauty of others! On this side of being, there is no completion to be found within the solitary Self; the singular entity within this mode of reality must plug himself into a greater fabric to find self-actualization. Sexual energy is shared energy. In this mode "Happiness is only real when shared." The world of immediacy, the essence of your Concrete-Existence, is Feminine.
A balance of both of these is completely necessary. I find that many tip the scale towards one end or the other.
