Drawing: Interior Amphisbaena, by Will Alexander
Being in the spirit on the edge of space.
– Roger Gilbert Lecomte
I am thinking of the on-going condition of the human species, always signaling to itself from what I consider to be cellular malapropism. Malapropism being synonymous with history as slippage into cul de sacs, into general behavioral dyslexia, carrying in itself a burdensome tenor, existentially incapable of advancing itself beyond continuing embranglement, incapable of extracting itself from the power of gross ruination. Never the antidote enacted through the pulse of pure vision. Like a chastised infant it bellows with complaint announced through bulletins of regression. And this regression is analytically probed by its own decay, by the machinery of consensus analysis. The latter, nothing other than in-built trauma, infused by cognitive genes unserviceable with extinction. Not unlike the realia of an odd exorbitant serpent continuously sickened by its own ingestion. A ruinous self-infliction thrashing about by means of crazed insensibility.
Everyday the headlines throb with the fever of crises. This issue versus that issue, this death against that death, this attempt at conquering versus that attempt at conquering, which culminates in nothing more than circumstantial fatigue. A continuing malaise which erupts on an on-going basis. Crises ingested by the collective blood as a general toxin. Under this circumstance it is impossible to project such a condition even 30,000 years into the future. This seems to be an embarrassing coup for the forces of extinction. Forces which have been maliciously punctuated by the stifling interventions ignited by the troubling policies enacted by richer nations to the North, obsessed as they are by continuous profit through greed, this being their inherent generating principle. Which remains their a-priori given for governing human relations. I call this the universal conquering genome, twined as it is by both conscious and subconscious branding upon consensus thought arrangement. This being the restive nature of the European tenor always seeking to control the general mental vicinity with frictives, with dualism, sustaining and re-sustaining its transmittable paradigm, enacted through a strategics that plots us verses them. Which punctuates and continues to punctuate, divisiveness, lust for gold, slaughter of innocent parties in quest of this lust. Which continues to summon the worst tendencies in the human species over the past 500 years, so much so, that this contagion now seems to have enwrapped the globe,with humanity nearly saturated by a smouldering alliance with psychic deficit, subtended by false nostalgia and panic.
Myself, a creature of this menacingly eroded ozone seeking sight outside its choreographic wreckage, seeking, from my aboriginal state to levitate my cellular field above its encompassing general dread, attempting to free my cellular field from a super-imposed vacancy of spirit. By establishing such assent I’ve found that transparent realms can pullulate, seeding differential opening. All of the above being stated not in terms of advancing delimited leadership, or in terms of advancing low grade ideology where I would be recognized as the sole imparting factor of general salvation. I am speaking of having a fecund enough liberty to instill consciousness with living emission through anonymous vibration. A vibration not unlike functioning Supra nutation above the levels of the culpable psyche. The latter being the mind which enacts itself as delimited given. I am relating the aforesaid to the condition of our present circumstance, where birth in many ways has become synonymous with a contaminate property. Witness the monstrous apparitions of Cyclops babies invading our eyes as they pour from wombs in Fallouja, as apparitions of depleted uranium. They seem symbolic of a future committed to divisiveness and blinding.
This being energy which reeks as a hive of burnt fowl, which glows, wafting beyond the troposphere, as if our circumstance could be rescued by cryptic powers from Vega. This being the covert mantra of the era, to be redeemed by technical prowess spawned by alien enablement. An enablement which would create for us unprecedented resolution giving us a fresh start as a fresh leap from darkness. I’m speaking here of enablement which ignites from levels not dependent on oxygen, not dependent on moribund criteria, no longer compromised by phenomena as we know it.
Alien phenomena instantly understood to be non-utilitarian, an energy presently understood as floating around the scale of other suns, around the strangeness of other amplitudes. Saying this, I am not attempting to convey myself as some abstract explorer, always whispering beneath my derma, someone else’s possibility seeking for some sidereal potion to take hold. In contradistinction, I am concerned with the higher states actual in their shift from solar to sidereal. Shift, not as clause, but as alchemical expansiveness not unlike the internal aeronautics of the old Egyptians. This, being the experiential current that they used to float structures, to kindle interior matter to an animated status, thereby creating by light an unending presence.
I can only say at present remove that I remain internally susurrant having never been bound by psychic sequestering. I’ve always remained askew in the crowds, never concurring with shifts in the herd, harvesting glimpses from other planes. For me, never assumption concerning human delimitation vis a vis the other. Of course, because of human peculiarity one must absorb glimpses, fragments, partial flares from the higher planes. Thus, I experience gnosis within media res. A trans-physical stamina transpires simultaneous with a surreptitious mantra in the cells. A trans-functional listening by means of ethereal cadence. Which is spontaneous, thus the being is no longer trapped and held by the frontal exteriority of shrines. Not a conscripted cadence clashing with itself due to simple integral priority, but sound which seems to rise from separate hives of energy and initially combine as blurred translucence.
Commotion in the modern sense breeds decibels of annoyance and mimes itself through the anguish of measurable transposition. Thus, insight is sullied by the compound anemia of abstraction pervaded by a strange ammonia of dimness. Thus, insight in its purest movement seems infused by fumes from psychic naivete, from general fundamentalisms, from passe instruction spawned by cognitive obstruction. The latter examples could be congealed within what I’ll call broken worms of non-awareness. They, being moribund assumption, vile ideologies enacted as finalized habituation.
Because I am neither influenced by commotion or ideology I flow through being as a non-conscripted poltergeist. Thus, I create by my presence contagious suffusion always leaving my mark as parenthetic absence. An absence, not unlike neutrinos issued from the cells. Because of this I remain an anonymous concrescence. Unlike a wandering monster, say, part tiger and part mongoose, I’ve ceased to stoke flames which issue from my nostrils. In this sense I do not present myself as a mirage of terror and scales, or as an upwelling messenger formed from pre-conceived anathemas. Thus, I feel synonymous with evolved presence. And because of the absence I emit I am beginning to know the body as geology by patience. A patience capable of becoming a surreptitious avatar trans-rationally self-gathered by means of powers over and above the sheaths which vibrate as the terminal personality. By such evolvement one partially enters realms in which Padmasambhava now circulates being commensurate with unending. Presence, then, remains active without death.
To evince the caliginous as outlook assumes the pessimism of the age rife as it is with the grief of doubt. As a neurological phantom such doubt does not befit me, cannot chronicle me with negation, or reduce me to a wandering specter amidst truncated crops. Under present definition I exist without context. Not a savior, nor a progniscator, nor one who registers according to the turbulence of belief. I am energy minus due fixation, as if my body were composed from asteroidal rays, composing my voice as sigil, as transmuted static from Saturn, knowing by each utterance the fecund power which issues from the Sun. Therefore, there is the grasp of distance through power other than by analytical foray. I now know the Sun as non-accumulation, being beauty as vertical phasma, a phasma which floods the neurology with perpetual metamorphism. In this sense my body is Ison, Ceres, and Titan, never consciously knowing exteriority through the denseness or closeness of objects. I am prone to instantaneous states closed to the general mind of daily kinesthesia and habit. At this level I have more in common with telepathy of whales swimming various routes between Sumatra and San Francisco. For me, duration is synonymous with transparence, not unlike the Tibetan Rainbow Body floating as a form in the wake of saffron colored butterflies across the wilds of Mexico in winter. I call this the other of peregrination. Peregrination in this sense being a blend of vertigo and fever which magically burns as vitrescence. Therefore I cannot reduce my condition to a brass or stoic impact. Because I am incapable of true collaboration with reductive perspicaciousness I remain removed from facile coherence. Thus, the separated part remains the sterilized stage along the way. Say, if I both ingest and spit out the parts, I fertilize their remains with saliva, with spontaneous psychic pepper, which allows them to achieve an objective distillation of brilliance.
Thus, one cannot engineer portions in lieu of the imagination, in lieu of its spontaneous saliva, its intangible circular prism. Here I am speaking from the climate of the innate, from the mind whose speech is a blizzard of sea waves. Saying this, I cannot make up boulders, or transpose schist in order to insure clarity. Therefore, I am not a Magi trapped within the bounds of known factors, chiseling foot by foot a reductive index road. Instead, I am always migrating as a skeletal phantom, never tersely configured, or pointlessly ensconced within a space of lateral habitation. I am never one to build upon the fatigued assurance of the conscious mind. Therefore I am the bizarre infraction who tumbles out of nothingness. Not a patch of filigree tautological with itself, but as a being of insight from which the aforesaid filigree emerges. The latter, being none other than the zero field from which nature emerges. The simultaneity of both the anterior state, and the posthumous state never reduced to the laws imbued within an erratic Doppelganger. The zero field being a purity, a seemingly purposeless purity equated in certain cognitive quarters with transverse rotational elevation. Such elevation being of a lesser state sans the non-locatable. The Doppelganger in question remains no more than an isolate hurricane teeming with general entropy and relative fixation. In contradistinction, I am embodied by the smallest of elliptical motions, which transmutes to upwelling fumes from the field. For me, these fumes are akin to rays created from the “differential” field, the latter being field within field, within field, this being the trans-state which is and is not the energy which informs stellar captivity.
Captivity within self-wrought contact points tends to crave tension with the invisible. The lower mind in communion with the seemingly non-begotten. This being the superfluous mind sealed off from itself, sealed off from the Ground, exploring the various strata of anaemia. Thereby it refutes its own base in its attempt to refute forces outside quantification. Therefore, it prosecutes delimited opinion concerning the realia of particles, concerning the private tendency of their isolate cncurrence. This being analogous to the most separative sculpting of the nano-second, reducing its state to the derivative, to the claw of empirical lightning. Empiricism at this latter scale being synonymous with a carking micro-habitation. Never the electricity of the sublime, or the in-contaminate kinetics of auto-suggestion that allows the life force to alchemically commune with its own identification.
Which is not psychic banditry seeking to open inner states through falsely composed mantras, through pharmaceutical angles fraught with technically imposed combinations, but a state of new electrical reaction where the physical form is no longer contained by a rapacious bodily urn. This being akin to a Buddhist Rainbow Body 7/8ths removed from sanctioned human form. Not a mirage of false concertos, but sound igniting where presently dearth exists. This, consisting of the nascent levels of supra-physical animation. This being the body as supra fractal, making it something other than metaphysical exotica, rife with abstracted filigree. Thus, the body as supra phenomena blazing as the incarnation of the field and can no longer be colonized by the diagnostic level. It then carries a strange interior summons of itself, its cells no longer stultified within a registered hamlet.
As if it floated over brazen lava fields with new electrical concurring. A concurring that surmounts the purely optical and its fount at the juncture of divisiveness. As parts of motion it carries no decimal static, no cellular travail, cleansed by internal cyclone. Which in turn cleanses the lens of speech. At this higher remove there remains transformation. Which means, there is never condoned recursion into the center of a devolved holding grain.
At present, the body is valued for facile charisma, for its ability to attract an extend treasure. Discussion of all higher facility seems reduced to preambles, to extrinsic exchange through belief, where only the immediate has the possibility of gaining cachet. A provincial concrescence at best, always prone to bickering and envy in the service of inner constriction and panting. Thus, the working paradigm of the era, sans the natural energies of the Oryx, or the magical foundation of projected Bon beginnings.
I am concerned with subtle registration, with registration more cryptic than the proverbial blink of an eye. In this sense I am eschewing miracles when they are reduced to institutions of themselves. For me, they are part of a profound activity never defined by doctrine, or scurried along a delimited moral isthmus. But let us go back to the “Westcar Papyrus and the raising of the dead by the magician Teta in the IV Dynasty during the reign of Cheops” when amplification remained unlinked to mere parochial option. According to parochial option the Sun is never synonymous with transpersonal power, never capable of sending a dyad of signals to illumine the fantastic. Instead, it is seen as a furnace, as remaining on par with 19th century combustion. The consensus mind at present, seems warped by swarming ancillary skills, by pointless projection, creating all manner of disruptive stimuli in the process.
I’m thinking here of the cells as higher vibrational kindling, allowing the body to both widen and raise its power of being. Saying this, I am arguing for no known system. I am stating the fact of the cells evolving higher and higher through levels of peril. This being the initial state that opens onto the transpersonal allowing the sidereal to flare as capacity. The latter partaking of little known powers by the absorption of a lower plane by a higher bespeaks of infinite alchemics. This is not history in terms of repetitive animation, nor its irregular shadow field rife with stunted approximation, but simply the emergence of a new interior species.
I cannot evince sound as a pre-determined moneron. I can only reveal the spontaneous as it moves as the unpredictable. This being perpetual percolation never describing itself according to prior terminology. And by no means am I stating that harrowing has been annulled, or that initiatory seepage has been claimed by the overt. We have achieved at best, partial entry into the. “zero field” interacting with its power, never presaged by cognitive limitation.