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09-13-2006 10:13 AM
When we say 'I Believe', it is usually a lip avowal from an infected mouth of borrowed precepts or simulations, as living an inexperience. Belief must be vital, livable, and as unquestioned as our blood-circulation or heart-throb.
Some things are far distant in time and space; we journey by relatability (whether fictional or non-fictional, either will serve).
Man's love of fancy dress, of masquerading, is true translatable symbolism: one fiction guising another.
There are conventions of asking, giving, receiving and taking. How remiss we are—we often ask, give to, receive or take from the wrong people.
We are dimensionally caged but nothing prevents our looking through the bars—imagination has fewer bars than reasoning.
Thought is like the Ether, it conveys and permeates all things, giving all we initially know. And what do we give in return?
Morality is a reciprocal discipline necessary to survival, and to protect the inexperienced from consequences unnecessary or unequal to development.
The jungle law is superior to ours, but then man makes his laws.
All pleasures eventually equalize; their difference is of duration and degree. When certain pleasures are constant we naturally strive for their preservation. Hence to me a 'large fat woman's bottom' is spacious and spatial—I know nothing better—so why should I disavow or transfer to 'Love of God', or anything else? I am loving God via a fat arse. All true appreciation of the abstract is through other things. Better this, than acquiesce by faith in non-inferentials. Actuality, like belief, is asserted by feeling. So the Soul loveth all who loveth him through those things he maketh: he who appreciates my work…
When you laugh at others you are 'seeing yourself as others see us', but there is this qualification—there is very little good portraiture, there is no quaquaversum of truth, only quasiness.
Poetry is accomplished hyperbole.
Anomalies of language are numerous but some used here to further a more logical form and show the purpose of my own system: a personal form of articulating abstracts for psycho-somatic changes and communication of Mind and Ego. The ethos of language should be unequivocal 'meanings' (in any rational semantical system) with the least ambiguous syntax possible.
All symbols, as words, are configurated meanings. Any series of such meanings as a sentence should be short, a natural apophthegm. Simplicity is the diction of clarity. Therefore, as a phrase: 'I prefer fat women', as an opinion, is passable, and the least erudite would understand. Being partitive, gives the implication of 'why' to the receiver, who, if knowing me would add: sensual, amiable, beautiful, cultured; others, without knowing me, might mentally add some such as a generality applicable to most. Nothing of which is in the sentence. So, however simple a statement (apart from the stupid) more will be read into it than is expressed, the by-product being—as writing—the possible assumptions of others as though implicit, when not so, and our assumption that they will understand our meaning however clumsy or inexplicably stated. All of which is useless for response from our own mind: Any partitive statement will formulate itself (as complete) from others assertions as conviction. Only our convictions as self-truths are responsive from Ego to mind. Therefore the assertion 'God is love', 'God is hate', 'God is indifferent', are not my self-truths, but if I believe as substractive then intercommunion is possible, for instance as self-truth: (inasmuch as) 'I believe in myself, all things believe in me.' For if I believe in myself unquestionably, therefore I believe all things. Therefore if I transcribe 'I prefer fat women' by my own symbols, becomes a request with all essential qualifications, thus: and answered by the mind, whereas the verbal rendering would be futile. Another predicament of verbal forms, e.g., if I state: 'He is a splendid man' (of a person known to us both) it would be understood that I implied only physically (as their moral, social and mental value was remiss). Here the designated subject speaks more than the words used. Hence the same sentence to another (not knowing the person) leaves them guessing as to true reference: They would have to apply, as meaning as of general worth (or Ideal). Therefore, interpretation of words depends mainly on equal knowledge of subject and some values of meanings.
Every foetus has (an exterior) prescience as to destination from which, concurrently, is developed its own perception by experience: personal ego ex universal Ego. Hence our fore-knowledge is an abstract ominous conscience.
How Fate steals the things we love best! Hymen is poxed, the odalisques survive in pathetic stews, man stinks: how did it occur? Greed is the infectious disease.
The only attribute of God is Man (or vice versa).
Some phantasms are a species of object impressionistically perceived and amalgamated with another, more rational, impression.
Man believes by hetero-suggestion far more than he experiences 'now', though what he mainly believes are similitudes of past experience.
A fictions is unattributable to anything known and nothing is known for certain.
All conation is synthetic derivation, our best—that little difference.
When enthusiasm and effort are co-equal and joined in purpose—realization is near, whatever its merit.
Life does not decrease but increases by fulfilment. We were generated and do ourselves generate. Whether we shall ever originate is locked up in our unknown future potentialities and not in our nominalism and knowledge.
'To know ourselves', 'to renounce ourselves', etc., are postulates of hyperbole; we but change our mental clothes by new figures of speech. The mind is our index of the infinite exhibiting a universe of which we know little; yet the unknowable within us is vaster and hence more potent of possibility.
We have erected the negation of equity into a form of existence by systems of government: our birthrights are stolen at birth and to keep us empty-handed we are taught—'Thou shalt not steal'.
Look into your past to forecast your future.
Is it short-sighted to limit our beliefs when we do not know our ultimate possibilities? Yet all expression is within the limits of definite technique and formalism—whatever our attempts at diversity.
What do we know for certain? In the complexity of differences we become endowed with pretence and dogmatize our lies.
The mystery of beauty, the undivulged of things, gives them their enchantment not their known meanings.
There is a Third Eye! To paraphrase "let not thy right eye see what they left eye seeth" would be a 'distinction without much difference', except for our willful blindness to all permitted self-deceptions which are seen and recorded by the inner eye. You may delude your fore-consciousness, but not what is beneath.
…And of the noumenal, our eternity, we hope that all our efforts in life are ultimately for a permanent perfection, with change an additional pleasure. Everything, knowledge and experience of life contradicts such a possibility.
Is the Truth necessary? The need is for our own Truth: lack of integrity makes for sterility and is meaningless. Things more necessary than Truth are expressed through our efforts to render such.
An infliction of old age is the indictment of all ages; be certain that your non-successes, accidents, and all illnesses however slight, will be the result of your agedness.
There are no conclusive conclusions, yet nothing germinates unless we have, or make, the necessity of arbitrary 'will-desire-belief' for a possible image of our ambition.
The eclectic path is not an avoidance of obstacles, but an alignment (often oblique) that cuts through from one predetermined place to another.
God is within us?—not yet seen, but as a mirror's reflection: an inexistent reality of presence without residence.
Ideas you conceive are their own possibility.
The great sterilities: the numen and the human—ever present—are stercoraceous images of greed under other names.
When one sees one's reflection everywhere and sees everything in oneself one becomes as the Stoic. One is never lost to 'Ego' or one's ego to eternity: the outwardness of ego is the recessive and remaining part of ourselves.
Through mind is our all-reachingness, and through the copula; our technique of articulating desire is limited, bad or mad.
Soul and mind are indifferent to our language but respond to affectiveness when conveying pure sentiment.
Where Ego goeth, there only is the sensation and perception of reality.
We call certain events 'Acts of God', or 'Fate', whereas they are the workings of equity from our own past Karma.
We make words ambiguous by adding our meaning; qualifications become endless and few understand themselves or each other.
Whatever you assert of the gods is more true of yourself.
All ways to Heaven lead to flesh. Our re-orientation and ascent from Earth must start here: nothing is obtained except by desire and our only medium is flesh—mouth and hand. In the midst of reality we strive for unreality, hence I teach the equal reality of all things, man and his illusions—flesh of dreams… There is a lamentable display of the non-artists shadow-fighting their fears; automata actuated by their own committed untruths seeking their fulfilment.
Truth is everywhere, there is nothing untrue anywhere; it may appear so, because we cannot accurately relate it.
I behold multiplicity in all things and myself as the inter-relating oneness, for whatsoever else I conceive will lead me astray or into 'as if'. The more I get into things the more I am beyond them, so, the more within, the more without…
I am everywhere present, yet unknown to myself except in Ego. I am a configuration of all the multitudinous compositions, and knowing not myself fully how can I know much of other selves and the gods? But the man we know is mainly made from the beliefs that he enacts, for 'being' is a function of the all-remembering Soul: so believe from your necessities, which alone obtain response and recompense—whether of good or evil.
Nightmare: how dreadful is this place; is it some religious hereafter?
'One in All', etc., and thousands of other generalizations, are language faecia, meaningless concretions, the 'stinking lump' spelling chaos out of which sprang order by separateness and every inequality, with the supreme attainment of individuality and ego.
Wisdom is the realisation of the mysterious incomprehensibility of all things, whoever the designer; and all the partial disclosures of knowledge prove this.
If I was begotten of all yesterdays then Ego (made of my memories become flesh) is my only lamp for the tomorrows.
My gods have grown with me.
The secret of happiness is to be in harmony with yourself; little more is permitted or desirable. Seek your environment and adapt it: do not ask me what is 'yourself'—I know only vaguely what I have made from Self into myself.
If others loved themselves half as much as I do, there would be no wars. Everything would seem less dangerous than Reality, for everyone would escape or unrender it.
Vitality of idea, vitality of form and balance of composition—these are the essentials of the masters who make their truths live.
When you are bored it is evidence of disease—you are going blind, deaf, or are paralyzed, etc.
Friendship is only the refraction of a desire for a fuller self. Until I am God in myself, I am nothing to God.
We are much worse in prospect than in retrospect.
Passion is purchased by passion. Those of small desires will only bleed you and make you as necessitous as themselves.
When we exploit the extent of solitude we find it more crowded than a great company and the abode of our own realities. There is no retirement from solitude, and, when we fear it, conscience is actively malignant.
Only dominant desire shall compel us to do what we want to do successfully.
Nature is an integrating principle, never compelling uniformity.
I do know, not only that I know but also what little I know of my own omniscience.
I dreamed the psychic world was a concurrent inverse devolution; man, failing as human, reincarnates as a caricature of the beast.
The price of Identity is suffering.
I believe in 'strangerhood': the trouble with 'brotherhood' as an ideal is that man's present behaviour is too bloody for words.
Space is the limit of probabilities; Time, of the immediately possible. Lies are the reflective exhibitionism of some 'forgotten' event we wish to re-live. Whatever lie you state could be true—at one time, at another time, but not at this time and place. We must first create a suitable environment.
Our 'personal religion' is often a suppressed sentimentality to benefit others; when so, we are at our best.
Words, words, words, however used, whatever they symbolize, request, or tell, say more, showing in between the antics of all motives. Yes, word-rendering deals the quickest of deaths to flabby ideas; and also words are the most poignant, suggestive, contagious, substitutive and lasting means to convey anything. Most deadly virus, most potent abreaction of magic subtlety even your erasures reveal your believing by their persuasive influence and their magic.
If a wish formulates its meaning from a parallel likeness, it will have a substantive exegesis.
The giver who gives desiring no requital is without fault: the receiver has a moral onus as the contra-givee; there is ultimate equitable recompense in all things.
The 'Summum bonum' of evaluation is equitable compensation or compromise between differentiations; our 'thisness' in relation to 'thatness'. Ours the intensive, otherness the extensive.
All psycho-traumas relate to the subconscious and change us from the instinctive to the deliberate.
If we see a thing and feel nothing the result is almost nullity, just as if we touch something and visualize nothing. Emotive sensation is our highest process and function.
Sincerity is difficult except through lasting affections, being unstable in adaptation and tending to dysteleology. Sincerity is the quintessence of sentiment, our deep feeling (or 'aesthesis'); it creates our ability and formulates our temperament, individuality, and character.
When we say 'I Believe', it is usually a lip avowal from an infected mouth of borrowed precepts or simulations, as living an inexperience. Belief must be vital, livable, and as unquestioned as our blood-circulation or heart-throb.
Some things are far distant in time and space; we journey by relatability (whether fictional or non-fictional, either will serve).
Man's love of fancy dress, of masquerading, is true translatable symbolism: one fiction guising another.
There are conventions of asking, giving, receiving and taking. How remiss we are—we often ask, give to, receive or take from the wrong people.
We are dimensionally caged but nothing prevents our looking through the bars—imagination has fewer bars than reasoning.
Thought is like the Ether, it conveys and permeates all things, giving all we initially know. And what do we give in return?
Morality is a reciprocal discipline necessary to survival, and to protect the inexperienced from consequences unnecessary or unequal to development.
The jungle law is superior to ours, but then man makes his laws.
All pleasures eventually equalize; their difference is of duration and degree. When certain pleasures are constant we naturally strive for their preservation. Hence to me a 'large fat woman's bottom' is spacious and spatial—I know nothing better—so why should I disavow or transfer to 'Love of God', or anything else? I am loving God via a fat arse. All true appreciation of the abstract is through other things. Better this, than acquiesce by faith in non-inferentials. Actuality, like belief, is asserted by feeling. So the Soul loveth all who loveth him through those things he maketh: he who appreciates my work…
When you laugh at others you are 'seeing yourself as others see us', but there is this qualification—there is very little good portraiture, there is no quaquaversum of truth, only quasiness.
Poetry is accomplished hyperbole.
Anomalies of language are numerous but some used here to further a more logical form and show the purpose of my own system: a personal form of articulating abstracts for psycho-somatic changes and communication of Mind and Ego. The ethos of language should be unequivocal 'meanings' (in any rational semantical system) with the least ambiguous syntax possible.
All symbols, as words, are configurated meanings. Any series of such meanings as a sentence should be short, a natural apophthegm. Simplicity is the diction of clarity. Therefore, as a phrase: 'I prefer fat women', as an opinion, is passable, and the least erudite would understand. Being partitive, gives the implication of 'why' to the receiver, who, if knowing me would add: sensual, amiable, beautiful, cultured; others, without knowing me, might mentally add some such as a generality applicable to most. Nothing of which is in the sentence. So, however simple a statement (apart from the stupid) more will be read into it than is expressed, the by-product being—as writing—the possible assumptions of others as though implicit, when not so, and our assumption that they will understand our meaning however clumsy or inexplicably stated. All of which is useless for response from our own mind: Any partitive statement will formulate itself (as complete) from others assertions as conviction. Only our convictions as self-truths are responsive from Ego to mind. Therefore the assertion 'God is love', 'God is hate', 'God is indifferent', are not my self-truths, but if I believe as substractive then intercommunion is possible, for instance as self-truth: (inasmuch as) 'I believe in myself, all things believe in me.' For if I believe in myself unquestionably, therefore I believe all things. Therefore if I transcribe 'I prefer fat women' by my own symbols, becomes a request with all essential qualifications, thus: and answered by the mind, whereas the verbal rendering would be futile. Another predicament of verbal forms, e.g., if I state: 'He is a splendid man' (of a person known to us both) it would be understood that I implied only physically (as their moral, social and mental value was remiss). Here the designated subject speaks more than the words used. Hence the same sentence to another (not knowing the person) leaves them guessing as to true reference: They would have to apply, as meaning as of general worth (or Ideal). Therefore, interpretation of words depends mainly on equal knowledge of subject and some values of meanings.
Every foetus has (an exterior) prescience as to destination from which, concurrently, is developed its own perception by experience: personal ego ex universal Ego. Hence our fore-knowledge is an abstract ominous conscience.
How Fate steals the things we love best! Hymen is poxed, the odalisques survive in pathetic stews, man stinks: how did it occur? Greed is the infectious disease.
The only attribute of God is Man (or vice versa).
Some phantasms are a species of object impressionistically perceived and amalgamated with another, more rational, impression.
Man believes by hetero-suggestion far more than he experiences 'now', though what he mainly believes are similitudes of past experience.
A fictions is unattributable to anything known and nothing is known for certain.
All conation is synthetic derivation, our best—that little difference.
When enthusiasm and effort are co-equal and joined in purpose—realization is near, whatever its merit.
Life does not decrease but increases by fulfilment. We were generated and do ourselves generate. Whether we shall ever originate is locked up in our unknown future potentialities and not in our nominalism and knowledge.
'To know ourselves', 'to renounce ourselves', etc., are postulates of hyperbole; we but change our mental clothes by new figures of speech. The mind is our index of the infinite exhibiting a universe of which we know little; yet the unknowable within us is vaster and hence more potent of possibility.
We have erected the negation of equity into a form of existence by systems of government: our birthrights are stolen at birth and to keep us empty-handed we are taught—'Thou shalt not steal'.
Look into your past to forecast your future.
Is it short-sighted to limit our beliefs when we do not know our ultimate possibilities? Yet all expression is within the limits of definite technique and formalism—whatever our attempts at diversity.
What do we know for certain? In the complexity of differences we become endowed with pretence and dogmatize our lies.
The mystery of beauty, the undivulged of things, gives them their enchantment not their known meanings.
There is a Third Eye! To paraphrase "let not thy right eye see what they left eye seeth" would be a 'distinction without much difference', except for our willful blindness to all permitted self-deceptions which are seen and recorded by the inner eye. You may delude your fore-consciousness, but not what is beneath.
…And of the noumenal, our eternity, we hope that all our efforts in life are ultimately for a permanent perfection, with change an additional pleasure. Everything, knowledge and experience of life contradicts such a possibility.
Is the Truth necessary? The need is for our own Truth: lack of integrity makes for sterility and is meaningless. Things more necessary than Truth are expressed through our efforts to render such.
An infliction of old age is the indictment of all ages; be certain that your non-successes, accidents, and all illnesses however slight, will be the result of your agedness.
There are no conclusive conclusions, yet nothing germinates unless we have, or make, the necessity of arbitrary 'will-desire-belief' for a possible image of our ambition.
The eclectic path is not an avoidance of obstacles, but an alignment (often oblique) that cuts through from one predetermined place to another.
God is within us?—not yet seen, but as a mirror's reflection: an inexistent reality of presence without residence.
Ideas you conceive are their own possibility.
The great sterilities: the numen and the human—ever present—are stercoraceous images of greed under other names.
When one sees one's reflection everywhere and sees everything in oneself one becomes as the Stoic. One is never lost to 'Ego' or one's ego to eternity: the outwardness of ego is the recessive and remaining part of ourselves.
Through mind is our all-reachingness, and through the copula; our technique of articulating desire is limited, bad or mad.
Soul and mind are indifferent to our language but respond to affectiveness when conveying pure sentiment.
Where Ego goeth, there only is the sensation and perception of reality.
We call certain events 'Acts of God', or 'Fate', whereas they are the workings of equity from our own past Karma.
We make words ambiguous by adding our meaning; qualifications become endless and few understand themselves or each other.
Whatever you assert of the gods is more true of yourself.
All ways to Heaven lead to flesh. Our re-orientation and ascent from Earth must start here: nothing is obtained except by desire and our only medium is flesh—mouth and hand. In the midst of reality we strive for unreality, hence I teach the equal reality of all things, man and his illusions—flesh of dreams… There is a lamentable display of the non-artists shadow-fighting their fears; automata actuated by their own committed untruths seeking their fulfilment.
Truth is everywhere, there is nothing untrue anywhere; it may appear so, because we cannot accurately relate it.
I behold multiplicity in all things and myself as the inter-relating oneness, for whatsoever else I conceive will lead me astray or into 'as if'. The more I get into things the more I am beyond them, so, the more within, the more without…
I am everywhere present, yet unknown to myself except in Ego. I am a configuration of all the multitudinous compositions, and knowing not myself fully how can I know much of other selves and the gods? But the man we know is mainly made from the beliefs that he enacts, for 'being' is a function of the all-remembering Soul: so believe from your necessities, which alone obtain response and recompense—whether of good or evil.
Nightmare: how dreadful is this place; is it some religious hereafter?
'One in All', etc., and thousands of other generalizations, are language faecia, meaningless concretions, the 'stinking lump' spelling chaos out of which sprang order by separateness and every inequality, with the supreme attainment of individuality and ego.
Wisdom is the realisation of the mysterious incomprehensibility of all things, whoever the designer; and all the partial disclosures of knowledge prove this.
If I was begotten of all yesterdays then Ego (made of my memories become flesh) is my only lamp for the tomorrows.
My gods have grown with me.
The secret of happiness is to be in harmony with yourself; little more is permitted or desirable. Seek your environment and adapt it: do not ask me what is 'yourself'—I know only vaguely what I have made from Self into myself.
If others loved themselves half as much as I do, there would be no wars. Everything would seem less dangerous than Reality, for everyone would escape or unrender it.
Vitality of idea, vitality of form and balance of composition—these are the essentials of the masters who make their truths live.
When you are bored it is evidence of disease—you are going blind, deaf, or are paralyzed, etc.
Friendship is only the refraction of a desire for a fuller self. Until I am God in myself, I am nothing to God.
We are much worse in prospect than in retrospect.
Passion is purchased by passion. Those of small desires will only bleed you and make you as necessitous as themselves.
When we exploit the extent of solitude we find it more crowded than a great company and the abode of our own realities. There is no retirement from solitude, and, when we fear it, conscience is actively malignant.
Only dominant desire shall compel us to do what we want to do successfully.
Nature is an integrating principle, never compelling uniformity.
I do know, not only that I know but also what little I know of my own omniscience.
I dreamed the psychic world was a concurrent inverse devolution; man, failing as human, reincarnates as a caricature of the beast.
The price of Identity is suffering.
I believe in 'strangerhood': the trouble with 'brotherhood' as an ideal is that man's present behaviour is too bloody for words.
Space is the limit of probabilities; Time, of the immediately possible. Lies are the reflective exhibitionism of some 'forgotten' event we wish to re-live. Whatever lie you state could be true—at one time, at another time, but not at this time and place. We must first create a suitable environment.
Our 'personal religion' is often a suppressed sentimentality to benefit others; when so, we are at our best.
Words, words, words, however used, whatever they symbolize, request, or tell, say more, showing in between the antics of all motives. Yes, word-rendering deals the quickest of deaths to flabby ideas; and also words are the most poignant, suggestive, contagious, substitutive and lasting means to convey anything. Most deadly virus, most potent abreaction of magic subtlety even your erasures reveal your believing by their persuasive influence and their magic.
If a wish formulates its meaning from a parallel likeness, it will have a substantive exegesis.
The giver who gives desiring no requital is without fault: the receiver has a moral onus as the contra-givee; there is ultimate equitable recompense in all things.
The 'Summum bonum' of evaluation is equitable compensation or compromise between differentiations; our 'thisness' in relation to 'thatness'. Ours the intensive, otherness the extensive.
All psycho-traumas relate to the subconscious and change us from the instinctive to the deliberate.
If we see a thing and feel nothing the result is almost nullity, just as if we touch something and visualize nothing. Emotive sensation is our highest process and function.
Sincerity is difficult except through lasting affections, being unstable in adaptation and tending to dysteleology. Sincerity is the quintessence of sentiment, our deep feeling (or 'aesthesis'); it creates our ability and formulates our temperament, individuality, and character.
0 Comments
09-10-2006 01:10 PM
Wisdom is a stasis: Knowledge is like the 'snake of eternity', constantly eating itself and never finishing.
More bathos: connexity of all our bloody selves to Ego is a nightmare commanded by the overlooked, unobeyed latencies of return, essential for re-union.
Ego expands by that which evokes mutual effluxes; therefore look for the Theocentric in the Egocentric.
If God personalizes our deficiencies, then, we thus personify his?
Subject understanding object by 'as if' may become, with courage, an ingressive emotional experience giving mutual expression.
Falsehood, and all sham conceits, are the reflected memory of the de-related and forgotten event resurging, re-exhibiting for validation; for whatever you pretend, holds a misplaced Truth, i.e., inaccurately related time and place. This also is true of the future. Time here is long…
Of whom do we ask forgiveness when we hate ourselves?
Our urges are ever ubiquitous, affinities change, and Knowledge becomes redundant.
Never too old to learn, always too old to be taught.
If all realization is by our relatability to different co-existences, then making the more variable is one purpose of being.
The Life-force and the Ids have their logic, which does not preclude our having our own diversity of will. There is virtue in all non-conformity because it makes new forms.
Ecstasy is our out-span touching Reality. It is a potent generative instant having a surplus that, when synchronized, may be used abstractly to incarnate another wish.
There is honesty of purpose in virility.
We are ever ultimate and all ultimates ultimately sublimate in Auto-Ego.
I ask, what is conceivable when we cannot conceive even what we are conceiving?
The mocking Ape, the smiling God, both beckon and will endow.
Thrice did I slip backwards into strange forms of myself, and thrice did my Soul save me.
Much is realized that seldom can be expressed and when it might be told—dissolves.
Mind, body, ego and all things are formulated from desire; to desire forever…
Within the Alphabet lies all the arbitrary abracadabra of our knowledge.
The dominant difference between each of us, and between all of us and the animal kingdom is a degree of 'ability', of instinct become 'personal', arbitrary. Outstanding ability shows affective psychic union.
Art alone having the gift of tongues has universal understanding, hence to know its fundaments is the initial path to Wisdom and Knowledge.
However great your reach, whatever you touch, shall touch flesh.
We cannot love love too much when we find it.
There is a self-revelation by a simple cryptic symbol: the meaning of all meanings. Think well before you drain this Cup of intoxicating possibilities.
When our aspirations become as inexorable as affection, the mind will divulge techniques and media.
Heaven makes no moral laws, but gives us instincts towards rightness and virtue.
The danger of the dynamic mind is that it seeks all kinds and degrees of complexity: fundamentals are a lost purpose in this forest of detail.
Let us desire no better pantheon than the zoomorphic in which to find a place: better to venerate our animal ancestry (until fully human), then the least attainable and most unknowable will disclose our next step.
However incompatible discoveries may be they always conform to the processes of ultimate inductions from our inherent designing ability.
The mind has no known purpose except that which it surmises from previous conations; all our motives are thus related processes springing from a basic urge deep within us and manifesting as Self-love.
Thinking is an inverse reflection of emotional needs, its resultants being changed by some other immediacy.
Abortive and extreme metamorphoses occur when Man slips into excessive evil or good. There is that theurgy in Will when all desires focus into one meanness or greatness.
Reversion is often the road to perversion, and the disused or abused degenerates unless transposed to another purpose.
Love shall cease when copulation is abjured.
Things more excellent than themselves are expressed through Art when our selves are expressed in them.
The artist illumines unseen beauties and awakens us to the utility of beauty as pleasure of a more permanent kind.
We conceive from the whole until detail destroys.
To know the fundaments of Art is to know the path of all wisdom.
What does not exist Man will invent or imagine.
Much is realized and so seldom expressed that when it might be told it is already forgotten.
The self-glory of our forgiveness of ourselves and others—these are our failures.
Emotional depth can bestow originality of expression.
We find in Art experiences missed in life.
Art is the coinage whereby we exchange emotional experience for creative life.
All artistic creation is subjective truth in that it relates to lesser known experiences.
Insincerity is an easy form of escape.
One function of Art is to make something more like or unlike itself than it appears.
Of beauty there is no finality; it confirms our inner sense of perfection which changes less than we do.
Over-modesty permits the unworthy to seek our company.
Vicious circle: Fear as the offspring of fearing to face things.
Our near relatives are the greatest insurance against belief in ourselves.
When Art is wanting the beast is superior.
The one constancy in life is change, yet the becoming or going is seldom pleasant.
Birth and death begin, like everything else, before the event.
God is often a generalization of our ignorance and unfulfilment, as "God knows" and "In God's good time"—we forget that we are the Knowledge of God and his good time.
Anything is justified if superbly simulated; it becomes believable.
The body is so pregnant with beauty that we should be careful of our embellishments.
One thought fills vacuity, two would become actuality and infinite complexity.
Passion has no longevity whatever its object, and has direful awakening.
The threshold of the 'psychic' is the playground of the charlatan.
Only the inspired mind is licensed to symbolize and so co-relate the abstract to the particular or general.
Again and again this "I am God" doctrine has never provided much evidence, except of power lent for purposes other than our own. It soon stinks, translating into its reverse form; our exteriorizations and extroversions are un-godly, and to become 'ourselves' we must become unlike them. Gods 'realize' not by negation of others nor by seeing others as inferior, they always see themselves as immense.
Man cannot be surpassed until he manifests all his suppressions. Having fulfilled all evil he still possesses great potentialities.
Any 'thing' is a quantum of everything.
A fact is a figment of a truism, therefore all facts are inconclusive. Fictions are devices to explain the indefinables; our whole systematic coherence is so forged.
I am incessantly active on a wonderful job—of finding out what I am doing, and what it means. I can always read into it something other than I did mean; never the meaning of my meaning, or the whole meaning. Then we wonder whether anything has any more meaning than anything else!
How do we know any damned thing? Chaos is our language; our own eccentric rhythms are unsynchronized to Cosmos—with a mildewed ear for the brassy cacophony of imaginary menageries dissonant to each other; and it all ends drooling over minutiae to discover oneself.
Our acceptances are our conclusions.
Existence is alogical to any 'logic' we know, so it is irrational to attempt to rationalize, except in cases of our own prejudices which inform our mentation.
If all phenomena are a fluxing unabsoluteness and are Absoluteness manifest, then is it surprising that we manufacture our ego that is neither-either but a weirder autism? Yet none remember having desired existence… but indisputably we have Ego, the only certainty we know. I mean by 'Ego', our individuality as distinct and separate from all else.
Within the sensorium is a transcriber, or a synthesizing faculty, using synonymous intangibles where association and experience fail: as the capacity of certain sounds to induce colour images, certain arabesque forms may find aesthetic truth.
All psychoses etc., have their origin in normality, they are not inherent but acquired; indeed at one stage, madness itself is a resolute choice—preferred. When we turn over the obverse of reality we must accept the reverse: autism may be just as satisfying as reality, because it has greater psycho-somatic parallelism. It becomes a faculty—a circularity: 'wish, suppositious deed'; a work of artistry, not of nature.
To reach out, clutch the transient 'thought' and remake it as our own is one form of genius.
Life loveth life as adventitious.
There is more truth in our erotic zones, than in the whole of religions and mathematics.
Truth is emergent and levels our necessities of direction (general or specialized). The function of truth is coherence, it indirectly forms our beliefs and values. We are all specimens of self-evident truth, i.e. audient and endemic as the intermediacy of pure Ego (informing agent) and empirical Ego (conative), conscience being the nexus (emotional value): all Knowledge is of one thing through another.
Within us all, and ever co-essential, is a prescient unknown informer who tones all experience as good and evil: therefore, whatever values or beliefs we hold, to transgress them is fatal.
Any fact or fiction has no difficulty in finding relatables as supporting evidence because everything has a 'point of connection' and a period of reality when instantly and simultaneous to time and place. Our difficulty is to re-evoke 'as now': so we accept semblance of (i.e. make-belief, religion or faith) as substitute of real belief (which needs no other reality than its own: what you cannot conceive as yourself is yourself (as another reality).
Abstract or concrete: if you suggest a wish to the thing you desire of, in their own manner, there will be a response: So, if I ask my mind in an appropriate manner for a definition of 'consciousness' I shall receive a true answer, although I may not be able to translate it: semantics are either remiss or insufficient to render the sequence of phonographs, but (without understanding) I would receive an emotional impact, like from a significant passage of music (of Bach or Mozart) thus inspire a kind of semantic rendering. (as true as possible)
If we seek escape from reality, then everything we do, will be as by proxy: There are more bogey men than real men.
Everything 'abstract' is unexclusively including, hence we know little of our latencies.
To realize of belief is from 'Thatness', to assert ourselves wholly 'as if That' within, we can only know ourselves by conceiving ourselves as outside ourselves: For nothing you can conceive will be beyond self: To see nullity—look within. We imagine our thinking & reasoning is within, whereas it only manifests through the body (the expressional means).
Hate in its various forms is the strongest emotion, far more potent and far easier to evoke than any other. Hence there are more people labouring to make the world worse than better. Until man re-assesses this 'value' not only as 'dominant inferiority', the repercussions of which are 'self'-defeating and pre-determined, his future will be a baleful aftermath.
We are not individuated so much by our material composition as by our purposeful functioning to redirect the Ids, to channel them by arbitrary means, as though self-willed.
We are all self-constructed Egos and necessarily concentric; whether altruistic or not is as may be.
O, Death, thou wouldst be the bringer of great gifts wert thou not a misnomer—'the end'. In some manner do all the weary speak.
If the Absolute relates to non-absolutes and all antitheses, then we lack only the 'conjunctionalism' for infinite inter-relatability and self-identity.
Being unnecessary to ourselves (as others), entails everyone becoming necessary for our survival.
When the denial of a proposition is incapable of being conceived, then the proposition is to be accepted as necessary or true: when you find such a proposition, there will be no necessity for it.
God is absolutely my own Idea: otherwise God cannot exist.
The greater the contrasts we encounter the greater our reality: Truth is all contrasting.
(Our) fictions constantly interacting create a co-essential supposition, seek blood, join memory's causatory chain, become as real as, or equal to, or better than, a stale reality.
Our imaginary excesses are the hylic of possibility.
If you act with ulterior motive or for evil, a thousand unseen hands will assist you, indeed the devil himself will attend if guised as altruistic. But if you act anonymously and virtuously, only God will help you (which is doubtful).
Wisdom is a stasis: Knowledge is like the 'snake of eternity', constantly eating itself and never finishing.
More bathos: connexity of all our bloody selves to Ego is a nightmare commanded by the overlooked, unobeyed latencies of return, essential for re-union.
Ego expands by that which evokes mutual effluxes; therefore look for the Theocentric in the Egocentric.
If God personalizes our deficiencies, then, we thus personify his?
Subject understanding object by 'as if' may become, with courage, an ingressive emotional experience giving mutual expression.
Falsehood, and all sham conceits, are the reflected memory of the de-related and forgotten event resurging, re-exhibiting for validation; for whatever you pretend, holds a misplaced Truth, i.e., inaccurately related time and place. This also is true of the future. Time here is long…
Of whom do we ask forgiveness when we hate ourselves?
Our urges are ever ubiquitous, affinities change, and Knowledge becomes redundant.
Never too old to learn, always too old to be taught.
If all realization is by our relatability to different co-existences, then making the more variable is one purpose of being.
The Life-force and the Ids have their logic, which does not preclude our having our own diversity of will. There is virtue in all non-conformity because it makes new forms.
Ecstasy is our out-span touching Reality. It is a potent generative instant having a surplus that, when synchronized, may be used abstractly to incarnate another wish.
There is honesty of purpose in virility.
We are ever ultimate and all ultimates ultimately sublimate in Auto-Ego.
I ask, what is conceivable when we cannot conceive even what we are conceiving?
The mocking Ape, the smiling God, both beckon and will endow.
Thrice did I slip backwards into strange forms of myself, and thrice did my Soul save me.
Much is realized that seldom can be expressed and when it might be told—dissolves.
Mind, body, ego and all things are formulated from desire; to desire forever…
Within the Alphabet lies all the arbitrary abracadabra of our knowledge.
The dominant difference between each of us, and between all of us and the animal kingdom is a degree of 'ability', of instinct become 'personal', arbitrary. Outstanding ability shows affective psychic union.
Art alone having the gift of tongues has universal understanding, hence to know its fundaments is the initial path to Wisdom and Knowledge.
However great your reach, whatever you touch, shall touch flesh.
We cannot love love too much when we find it.
There is a self-revelation by a simple cryptic symbol: the meaning of all meanings. Think well before you drain this Cup of intoxicating possibilities.
When our aspirations become as inexorable as affection, the mind will divulge techniques and media.
Heaven makes no moral laws, but gives us instincts towards rightness and virtue.
The danger of the dynamic mind is that it seeks all kinds and degrees of complexity: fundamentals are a lost purpose in this forest of detail.
Let us desire no better pantheon than the zoomorphic in which to find a place: better to venerate our animal ancestry (until fully human), then the least attainable and most unknowable will disclose our next step.
However incompatible discoveries may be they always conform to the processes of ultimate inductions from our inherent designing ability.
The mind has no known purpose except that which it surmises from previous conations; all our motives are thus related processes springing from a basic urge deep within us and manifesting as Self-love.
Thinking is an inverse reflection of emotional needs, its resultants being changed by some other immediacy.
Abortive and extreme metamorphoses occur when Man slips into excessive evil or good. There is that theurgy in Will when all desires focus into one meanness or greatness.
Reversion is often the road to perversion, and the disused or abused degenerates unless transposed to another purpose.
Love shall cease when copulation is abjured.
Things more excellent than themselves are expressed through Art when our selves are expressed in them.
The artist illumines unseen beauties and awakens us to the utility of beauty as pleasure of a more permanent kind.
We conceive from the whole until detail destroys.
To know the fundaments of Art is to know the path of all wisdom.
What does not exist Man will invent or imagine.
Much is realized and so seldom expressed that when it might be told it is already forgotten.
The self-glory of our forgiveness of ourselves and others—these are our failures.
Emotional depth can bestow originality of expression.
We find in Art experiences missed in life.
Art is the coinage whereby we exchange emotional experience for creative life.
All artistic creation is subjective truth in that it relates to lesser known experiences.
Insincerity is an easy form of escape.
One function of Art is to make something more like or unlike itself than it appears.
Of beauty there is no finality; it confirms our inner sense of perfection which changes less than we do.
Over-modesty permits the unworthy to seek our company.
Vicious circle: Fear as the offspring of fearing to face things.
Our near relatives are the greatest insurance against belief in ourselves.
When Art is wanting the beast is superior.
The one constancy in life is change, yet the becoming or going is seldom pleasant.
Birth and death begin, like everything else, before the event.
God is often a generalization of our ignorance and unfulfilment, as "God knows" and "In God's good time"—we forget that we are the Knowledge of God and his good time.
Anything is justified if superbly simulated; it becomes believable.
The body is so pregnant with beauty that we should be careful of our embellishments.
One thought fills vacuity, two would become actuality and infinite complexity.
Passion has no longevity whatever its object, and has direful awakening.
The threshold of the 'psychic' is the playground of the charlatan.
Only the inspired mind is licensed to symbolize and so co-relate the abstract to the particular or general.
Again and again this "I am God" doctrine has never provided much evidence, except of power lent for purposes other than our own. It soon stinks, translating into its reverse form; our exteriorizations and extroversions are un-godly, and to become 'ourselves' we must become unlike them. Gods 'realize' not by negation of others nor by seeing others as inferior, they always see themselves as immense.
Man cannot be surpassed until he manifests all his suppressions. Having fulfilled all evil he still possesses great potentialities.
Any 'thing' is a quantum of everything.
A fact is a figment of a truism, therefore all facts are inconclusive. Fictions are devices to explain the indefinables; our whole systematic coherence is so forged.
I am incessantly active on a wonderful job—of finding out what I am doing, and what it means. I can always read into it something other than I did mean; never the meaning of my meaning, or the whole meaning. Then we wonder whether anything has any more meaning than anything else!
How do we know any damned thing? Chaos is our language; our own eccentric rhythms are unsynchronized to Cosmos—with a mildewed ear for the brassy cacophony of imaginary menageries dissonant to each other; and it all ends drooling over minutiae to discover oneself.
Our acceptances are our conclusions.
Existence is alogical to any 'logic' we know, so it is irrational to attempt to rationalize, except in cases of our own prejudices which inform our mentation.
If all phenomena are a fluxing unabsoluteness and are Absoluteness manifest, then is it surprising that we manufacture our ego that is neither-either but a weirder autism? Yet none remember having desired existence… but indisputably we have Ego, the only certainty we know. I mean by 'Ego', our individuality as distinct and separate from all else.
Within the sensorium is a transcriber, or a synthesizing faculty, using synonymous intangibles where association and experience fail: as the capacity of certain sounds to induce colour images, certain arabesque forms may find aesthetic truth.
All psychoses etc., have their origin in normality, they are not inherent but acquired; indeed at one stage, madness itself is a resolute choice—preferred. When we turn over the obverse of reality we must accept the reverse: autism may be just as satisfying as reality, because it has greater psycho-somatic parallelism. It becomes a faculty—a circularity: 'wish, suppositious deed'; a work of artistry, not of nature.
To reach out, clutch the transient 'thought' and remake it as our own is one form of genius.
Life loveth life as adventitious.
There is more truth in our erotic zones, than in the whole of religions and mathematics.
Truth is emergent and levels our necessities of direction (general or specialized). The function of truth is coherence, it indirectly forms our beliefs and values. We are all specimens of self-evident truth, i.e. audient and endemic as the intermediacy of pure Ego (informing agent) and empirical Ego (conative), conscience being the nexus (emotional value): all Knowledge is of one thing through another.
Within us all, and ever co-essential, is a prescient unknown informer who tones all experience as good and evil: therefore, whatever values or beliefs we hold, to transgress them is fatal.
Any fact or fiction has no difficulty in finding relatables as supporting evidence because everything has a 'point of connection' and a period of reality when instantly and simultaneous to time and place. Our difficulty is to re-evoke 'as now': so we accept semblance of (i.e. make-belief, religion or faith) as substitute of real belief (which needs no other reality than its own: what you cannot conceive as yourself is yourself (as another reality).
Abstract or concrete: if you suggest a wish to the thing you desire of, in their own manner, there will be a response: So, if I ask my mind in an appropriate manner for a definition of 'consciousness' I shall receive a true answer, although I may not be able to translate it: semantics are either remiss or insufficient to render the sequence of phonographs, but (without understanding) I would receive an emotional impact, like from a significant passage of music (of Bach or Mozart) thus inspire a kind of semantic rendering. (as true as possible)
If we seek escape from reality, then everything we do, will be as by proxy: There are more bogey men than real men.
Everything 'abstract' is unexclusively including, hence we know little of our latencies.
To realize of belief is from 'Thatness', to assert ourselves wholly 'as if That' within, we can only know ourselves by conceiving ourselves as outside ourselves: For nothing you can conceive will be beyond self: To see nullity—look within. We imagine our thinking & reasoning is within, whereas it only manifests through the body (the expressional means).
Hate in its various forms is the strongest emotion, far more potent and far easier to evoke than any other. Hence there are more people labouring to make the world worse than better. Until man re-assesses this 'value' not only as 'dominant inferiority', the repercussions of which are 'self'-defeating and pre-determined, his future will be a baleful aftermath.
We are not individuated so much by our material composition as by our purposeful functioning to redirect the Ids, to channel them by arbitrary means, as though self-willed.
We are all self-constructed Egos and necessarily concentric; whether altruistic or not is as may be.
O, Death, thou wouldst be the bringer of great gifts wert thou not a misnomer—'the end'. In some manner do all the weary speak.
If the Absolute relates to non-absolutes and all antitheses, then we lack only the 'conjunctionalism' for infinite inter-relatability and self-identity.
Being unnecessary to ourselves (as others), entails everyone becoming necessary for our survival.
When the denial of a proposition is incapable of being conceived, then the proposition is to be accepted as necessary or true: when you find such a proposition, there will be no necessity for it.
God is absolutely my own Idea: otherwise God cannot exist.
The greater the contrasts we encounter the greater our reality: Truth is all contrasting.
(Our) fictions constantly interacting create a co-essential supposition, seek blood, join memory's causatory chain, become as real as, or equal to, or better than, a stale reality.
Our imaginary excesses are the hylic of possibility.
If you act with ulterior motive or for evil, a thousand unseen hands will assist you, indeed the devil himself will attend if guised as altruistic. But if you act anonymously and virtuously, only God will help you (which is doubtful).
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