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The Flow of Time

Musings (Disciples of the Red Cockroach)


Moseffa: Each one of us plays a pivotal part in our own as well as the world’s salvation, healing and redemption. Only when we learn how to listen to ourselves will we then understand what others have to say. By blocking our inner voice, ears and eyes we become deaf, mute and blind beggars hungering for a rancid piece of bread unable ever to enjoy and embrace life but only able to fear and reject it. Our wounds run deep and until were brave and willing enough to dive in and rip open our wounds and examine them / know them/taste them /, then only then, can we understand how to heal them. As we heal them we heal ourselves and the world

Casapolis: we are both philosophical, but we are opposites in the ways that we are. i want to tear it up, get rid of everything but the ambiguity and simplicity of an idea. you love to weave personality and embellishment- into all of your ideas. - you are gentle and nurturing of your idea children, i treat then as enemies- until i have subjugated them into showing me their roots and bones.

Moseffa: You State our positions very well. I care very little to know the answers to the riddles of the universe, I leave that to you. What is of importance to me are the questions and endless possibilities that they pose? When I ponder an idea, I love the mysteries, the illusions and the artistry that idea poses and how many different weavings that thread holds. My desire is not so much as to answer the question but only to ask it and let the question ignite my imaginative and creative spark. To me its the pursuit of art and all that it entails and the creative juices that it enflames that pulls and push's me to contemplate and ask these questions. The seeking of the answers of these questions (for me), would only dim and dampen the illusionary and mythic concepts that moves me to the different realities that I love to explore. When I watch a magic show I enjoy the magic, the artistry, the illusion and let my mind soar to the re
alms of the improbable. I have no need to know the trick, I choose to suspend my disbelief. For me Life, the universe, the meaning of who and what we are illicit questions that are loaded with infinite possibilities that explore the creative and artistic aspects that lie within each and every one of us. I choose to be a Fool for Arts Sake

Casapolis: but...…..i feel that you retreat to poetry as part of indolence and fear.

Moseffa: My retreat into poetry is my way of exploring aspects of the part of myself that I have repressed due to indolence and fear. Through my poetry I get to taste some of the anger, guilt, passion, doubt, desire, longing, regret and hope that spews out of living our dusty little lives:

What I

could

should

and will have been
What I was

am

could

and will be



from

lost dreams

old schemes

broken seams

and

new memes

I get to ponder these questions, to dig and uncover the wounded aspects that lie within parts of a fractured self and seek ways to un-divide what was divided. I also have a lot of fun doing it. Spirituality has many faces and comes in many forms. I take it to mean that your saying, Ideal or Archetype spirituality breeds indolence and takes you away from living in the world and doing right action but instead weaves you in the world of illusion and false living and traps you in entropy. That very well may be but one must live out of the world before one knows how to live within it. For me all forms have value and what one calls bullshit someone else calls it wisdom. Each path is different yet the same.




The Flow of Time

there is tremendous history in each of us. we are not free of its influences, we are not separate from its progression, extension, manifestation, transformation, revelation, nurture, and responsibility. (Moseffa)


For me there would be no hope or potential in Being if I believed my life to be something I was to survive and accept, rather than something I participate in and embrace. (Casapolis)


you are of the opinion that you are an individual, a separate self, and I am of the opinion that this is not so, but that we function as individual separate selves, and there is a difference. the difference is weather we are separate and autonomous or not. you say you are a co creator, I say you are only a collection ...... you did not make them, you do not control them, there is a flow from which you cannot diverge. (Moseffa)



DESTINY REGAINED


Are we in control of our destiny? Is there such a thing as our destiny? Are we the Writers, Directors and Producers of our lives, our thoughts, actions and dreams or are we just actors following a script that is written, directed and produced by someone or something other than ourselves? Do we think up our own thoughts or do we just hijack those that are receptive to our unconscious needs and desires? Are we even capable of independent thought? Are we in control of our Will or is our Will in control of us? Can we direct our will to choose our choices or are our choices already predetermined and fixed, leaving us with just the illusion of autonomy and independence? Are there any definitive answers to these basic fundamental questions or are the answers irrelevant but it's how one approaches and attempts to understand the questions that determines the answers?

My answer would be to all these questions that I posed, IT DEPENDS! It depends if one thinks that there are fixed and UN refutable governing principles (which set our reality) that cannot be altered or changed, then one tends to view the questions in a certain context. Or one can also view the same questions in a different context if one views that the governing principles, (which set our reality) are not fixed but changeable and refutable. And if one is like me one tiptoes through both views and tries to incorporate the truth (or what I perceive that truth to be) that resides in each.



When we are rowing our boats gently, following the current downstream (in connection with super-consciousness) and going with the flow, then joyously, our life indeed, is like a dream. (Jadenesa)


MIND CANDY, SOUL FOOD AND UPSET STOMACHS


what is: is- what was: was- what will be: will be- what is: was –what was: is- what will be: was and is- what is: will be- what was: will be and what will be: is now! How's that for a mind numbing exercise. Here’s another one: The past influences the present; as the present determines the future; as the future is a byproduct of the past; as the past becomes the present; as the present becomes the futures past. The point being; time is a relative thing, it moves in all directions not just in forward sequential linear movement. Everything is changeable and yet remains changeless. How's that for a paradox, or is it really not a paradox at all?

The chair doesn't dream

As I sit in my favorite chair thinking on how I can make my thoughts more clear concerning how I view time (the past, present and future) as a simultaneous and concurrent event which makes the universal laws flexible, changeable and fluid while paradoxically these same laws remain fixed, somewhat static and unchangeable, I am also sipping a cup of java as my cigarette burns in the ash tray, while with one eye I admire my wall sculpture (that hangs on my wall opposite of where I'm sitting) and the other stares out the window watching a bird hanging on a windy branch of a tree. As I write this, those few moments sitting in my chair woolgathering, are clearly a past event which has influenced what I'm writing presently and what I will be writing in the future. Past acts produce present acts which dictate future acts. And if one reflects further on the few moments spent in contemplation in my chair, in those few NOW moments I was conscious of the seamlessness, fluidity and the unbroken flow of what we call time. When we are in the present when does the past end and the future begin? If one thinks on this question in the context that I'm presenting it, one can then see/grasp/intuit that the past, present and future is a simultaneous, concurrent and an interchangeable event. I'll explore this theme in greater depth later on in this essay.

The chair becomes a tree

It was windy outside as I sat in my chair looking through my window watching a bird hanging on a branch of a tree. I've been wondering lately what ever happened to that bird? What drove that bird to that particular branch and what drove him away? It's only now in retrospect that I ask these questions for I was thinking about time and other things. While in those moments when I was in my isolated world staring at wall hangings and windy trees, sipping java and inhaling noxious fumes, thinking about time and what I would write that day, my moments were just one among trillion upon trillions of moments that were experienced concurrently with mine. What momentous and non-momentous events occurred on may 12th between 2:32pm -- 2:36pm as I sat and pondered on my chair. One can only speculate and imagine how those moments will produce present and dictate future moments that will have a direct and indirect impact on mine, yours, the dog, the cat, the trees, all of our lives and all that lives and does not live.

Lets Imagine, as the chair expands (between 2:32-2:36PM)


As I sat in my chair and think my thoughts, young Jane Lush was cutting school and on a dare from her friend had her first drink. It tasted swell and made her feel real good. Would this moment turn out to be one of the defining moments in her life? Joe Dogooder decided not to cut school that day with Jane and while in school gave CPR to a fellow student choking and saved that students life. This made him feel good about himself. Would this moment turn out to be one of the defining moments in his life? What will those moments produce? Will Jane now take another drink, then another, till drinking consumes her life and all her decisions and choices that she has and will make concerning her life be tainted and colored by her addiction? With her addiction guiding her actions will her choices be free ones or forced ones? Was she fated to be a drunk? Was it due to her genes? Was it her environment? Was it her friend’s fault who dared her to take her first drink? If she went to school that day would she now be something other than a drunk? Will that moment become a defining moment that will lead her to the road of addiction or just a moment that had no lasting effects? Will Joe's life saving act effect and dictate his future choices? Would it impel him to explore, consider and prepare for vocations that emphasized rescue and save methods as their modus operandi. And by considering and pursuing these options is he not then limiting and narrowing what choices that he does have? Does this leave him more open or closed to other options beside those of the rescue and save kind? Is this a defining moment for him that would change and alter his future choices or be just a moment that had no lasting or attributable effects in any of his present or future movements?

Is this fated to be? Is this Jane's or Joe' destiny? Or is this just one of the countless possibilities that these moments present to us? Do these moments produce fixed results or changeable ones? Do defining moments produce definable outcomes?


The chair shrinks as the script remains the same. Or does it?

As I sit in my chair thinking about time and other things, I am also puffing away on a cigarette and drinking a cup of java while staring out the window looking at the tree swaying in the light breeze and admiring Loki my wall sculpture. The only thing that makes this moment significantly different from the moment I experienced on may 12th is that the moment I'm writing about now has happened five minutes ago, on may 22nd at 4:01PM. The SAMENESS of the moment has me wondering if my later and former moments are part of the same moment. The only real difference between those moments, (aside from the differences in time) is that instead of being windy outside it was only slightly breezy, and my feathery little friend was nowhere to be seen. All other aspects of that moment were essentially the same; the chair was the same, how I was sitting on the chair was the same; the room was the same, the cigarette and coffee that I was drinking and smoking although not the same cigarette or the same batch of coffee, for all intents and purposes they were the same in a contextual sense; and lastly and most interestingly my thoughts had a sameness to it. I was as before thinking on time and other things, and how I can articulate my thoughts more clearly when putting it to writing. The only thing that has changed is that my thinking on the subject has deepened from when I first started this essay, by sitting in that chair and thinking about time and other things on may 12th at 2:32 PM. Can these moments all be acting simultaneously as a series of now moments that connect into one moment concerning my thinking and writing about what I'm now writing?

Moments in time

Our lives are a series of now moments that we differentiate and compartmentalize into separate moments: The now moments of our job, marriage, playing, childrearing, relationships with friends and lovers, hobbies, and our passions. There are scripts that we follow and ad lib's that we enact in each of these differentiated moments. They present us with a sameness that ties each moment together and as it expands the moment either becomes deeper, richer and more meaningful or more shallow, less real and meaningless.


Everything is changeable and yet remains changeless. How's that for a paradox, or is it really not a paradox at all? (Tessa Del Bellasuna)


THE CATS UP IN A TREE AND THE LADDER HAS BROKEN RUNGS

The paradox of time

In my previous chapter I've stated, proposed and implied, that the past, present and future are simultaneous and concurrent events that are happening NOW! I've also proposed that our lives are a series of "Now Moments" that we breakdown, differentiate, catalogue and compartmentalize into separate categories of living moments. In the next few sections I will attempt to elucidate these thematic positions to the best that my limited abilities allow, and if successful they will provide a firm foundation to base my conclusions from.

The Now of time

Imagine for a moment that we can take a ride through time and witness past and future events as they happened and will happen. As we paddle our way downstream in the

rippling river of time, the past now becomes our present time and our future was just moments past. Past events flash before us; we watch empires rise and fall; we witness

the evolution of man from a savage primal beast to a savage civilized man.; we gaze upon the dinosaurs as they roamed the earth and we look upon earth in its glorious infancy, pregnant with life , ready for birth, while at that same moment , Hitler’s scratching his ass, Napoleon’s picking his nose and Judas is hanging from a tree. As absurd and fantastical as this may seem, this paradox of time is nothing more than a matter of space.

Space, Time, Curves and all that Stuff

Time is nothing more than the directional movement of space and information. Space is nothing more than a vessel for the movement of information and time. Which way does time move? Does it move forwards, backwards, upwards, downwards or does it move in all these directions simultaneously? Or does it even move at all? The obvious answer would be forward and being forward minded creatures that would be the sane answer as well. Simple observation tells us that time moves in a forward path but if one looks deeper; one then realizes that’s not always the case. If one views time in a literal sense, as the ticking of a clock from second to second or the aging of all life from birth to death or as nothing more than a physical linier sequential time piece that marks the passage of time in our physical reality, then in my opinion one will forever be locked in the prison of time, counting the minutes till death, seeing only the obvious, chained to the mundane. But if one is willing to view time three dimensionally, to open one’s mind to the many different aspects and facets to the totality of time, then a myriad of realities of the impossible become possible, we are made aware of infinite possibilities, a vale is lifted from our eyes and time takes on a whole new meaning.

The Stuff of Time

When one thinks about space, just regular old empty space, the kind we move around in, one can find themselves hard pressed to give an adequate explanation of what exactly space is. Space holds, embraces, and surrounds everything; air, dust, gravity, protons, neutrons, quarks, me, you, trees, animals, the land, the ocean, the stars and the universe, in a seemingly effortless invisible fashion. We have a very intimate relationship with space, we breathe in it, move, lay, stare, work, play, and make love in it, yet we hardly know anything about it. When space is empty of all that it holds, the form or formlessness that emerges is a vacuum of space. It sure sounds like nothing to me, so for all intents and purposes space in its naked form is NO THING or NOTHING.


Nothingness is the embodiment

Of everything

To touch the whole of nothing

Is to feel the presence

Of God



I fly to the empty void

Seeking the flaming fires

Of my soul

Engulfing and entwining itself

In the stillness and emptiness

Of the nothingness

That surrounds us all

I hear deafening soundless voices

That reside on the outer edges of chaos

filling my heart with dread and wonder

For I sense it’s the voice

Of nothing



I Tremble, I Cower

I Fear, I Doubt

I Exult, I Praise

I Cry for Joy



I must go beyond

The illusions of the mind

Embrace the Stillness

The everything of nothingness



I, We, Them, Us

All search in the sea

Of God

To quiet our

Restless Minds

Weary Hearts

And

Heavy Souls

As we struggle not to drown

In the tidal wave

Of our doubt



To see Nothing

Is to see the face

Of God

And It

She, He

Is Us

Everything

And

Nothing



THE LADDER IS FIXED BUT THE CAT IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND

The Information of Time and Space

We are the stuff of ‘Vaporized Stars’ which in turn became that Vital Dust that filled and still fills up space and time; forming the universe as it is today and will be tomorrow. We are nothing more than a vast array of particles made through the intense heat of the Big Bang. Out of nothing came something and that something was us. The Stuff that fills space, (everything that is in the universe, physical and non physical) are nothing more than bits and pieces of information. The chair that you’re sitting on is nothing more than a certain combination of molecules, particles and chemical arrangements that forms the pattern of the chair by the content of information that makes a chair a chair. Your hands, eyes, feet, body, brain, hair and you are nothing more than a mass of biological components produced by molecules that form the cell (the building block of life), which consists of chemical, organic and mineral compounds created from bits and pieces of code that instruct the organelles, chromosomes and proteins to concoct a genetic soup in the correct combination and arrangement that forms the pattern of all that is you by the content of information that makes you, You. As you stare and read these words that pour off the screen to your eyes, what are you thinking of? Are you thinking about what I’m writing, or are you thinking about other things as well. What is thought? What is Mind? In it simplest sense the mind is nothing more than just a receptacle for holding in and containing thought. And thought in its most fundamental form is nothing more than bit and pieces of information that fills the space within the mind while time gives those thoughts a sense of structure, order and coherency.



Into the depths

of the darkened wood

a creeping doom follows me

as I walk among the ruins

that crumble in decay

lost among broken memories

of those who lost their way

never again to witness

the glory of the day



what once was

may have been

may yet again be



the wind blows the tears

of a thousand souls

upon my weary heart



the air turns sour

at my breath

but walk on I must

to meet my fate

beat my doom



what else is there to do



A Sense of Time.

As I look at my reflection in the mirror a feeling of disbelief overwhelms me. For a split second my mind goes into a state of befuddlement and confusion as I see an aged funny looking man staring back at me. Surely this can’t be me; this has to be some nasty trick of time. And so it is, time moves forward in a wink of the eye, our physical body slowly ages, becoming wrinkled and worn while in our minds eye, we age at a much different pace. It’s like our mind and body are in two different time zones. Our physical bodies adhere to the rules of the physics of Time; they tick tock onward and forwards, from seconds to minutes to hours to days to weeks to months to years, till the body runs down and dies. But the flow of time for mind is much different; it more or less functions in a non linier, non sequential pattern with time moving in different directions and speeds rather than in a tick tock fashion of the physical realm. Haven’t we all at one time or another lost our track of time? Doesn’t an hour sometimes seem like a minute and minute at times like an hour? When one is engrossed in a project as I am now in writing this essay, hours can pass while I struggle with a single sentence but take no notice in that passage of time, it seems like seconds or minutes or no time at all to me, it’s only when I pause in what I’m doing do I sense a passage of time, but even then I have no exact sense of time but I am once again partaking in the so called normal flow of time. It’s only when I look at the clock do I know exactly how much time has passed. Oh my, I can’t believe its three o’clock in the morning, where did time go, time sure does fly; I better get to bed.


The Tape of Time

Where does the past go when the present begins? Does it still exist with the same shape and form as the present? Is space and direction the only thing that separates the past from the present? Or does the past just fade into non-existence as present moments turn to future moments. When the present becomes the past when does the future become the present? What separates time from space? Is there a separation? Is it its direction or the amount of information each possess that differentiates the one from the other? When the present becomes the past does the past remain static, unchanging, unalterable or like the present is it fluid, changeable and in constant flux? What of the future? Does it exist now or is it yet to be? Is Time (past, present and future) just part of one big moment, a blink, a single flash, A Mote in Gods Eye. What lies outside of time? Are their definitive answers to these questions? Do these questions really have an answer? It all depends on who you ask. And if one were asking me I’d say YES through speculation, contemplation and most of all imagination.


Out of the stillness

of nothingness

a faint vibration
a tiny stirring was caused
and felt
was heard
and came to Be



The First the One
dared to Be
creating more

just like Thee


Now there were Two
then there were Three
knowingly seeding

Disunity



Ah but they Hunger



Thirst



Struggle


And Yearn



Hoping to One Day Return


To Nowhere


In the womb of God



THE APPLE DOESN’T FALL IT FLOATS

Musings and ponderings of an addled mind

I hope you’ve brought along your imaginations and an open mind, for I intend to take you on a wild speculative ride through time. My last section was mainly a pseudo scientific exposition of the nature of time. I attempted to define, differentiate and clarify the different aspects of time, (time, space, direction, movement and information) or what I think constitutes its composition. In this section I intend to have fun with time, to explore its metaphysical aspects and let my imagination imagine the what ifs and the what not of that great paradox we call Time.

A Recap of Time

Out of the nothingness of chaos where time does not exist a tiny stirring was caused by the un-caused. Out of No Space, space emerged, non-matter became matter and matter formed information, and that information started to move outward in all directions and thus began the Flow of Time. With a mighty roar and a “Big Bang” time started to flow and the universe was born rushing ever onwards towards it death so that it may die and be reborn again and again and again in the forever flow of time.


The Wheel of Time

Round and round and round we go where we end up is back to go. And so it goes with Time, forever turning and spinning, weaving and wobbling, twisting and bobbling, a loop with a loop and a circle within a circle, contained within itself with the beginning at the end and the end at the beginning, unbroken and seamless, locked in a forever battle. The wheel of time churns and turns with no beginning or end in sight; forever flowing, forever going, caught in the twisted loop of eternity.


All the Time in the World


In the heavens when we were free

God told us just to be

There was no concept of this thing

Called forever and eternity



All torn

All worn

Forlorn

Not born

This wheel, this loop we’re in

Reminds us of our sin

We wanted to be more

Than what we were before



Pure light

Sun bright

Dark light

Dead night



Wandering from our home

Lost and all alone

Blinded by our pride

We’re grooms without a bride



Cast out

No hope

Blackout

Can’t cope



The tick tock tick of time

Is our hell and is our crime

The wheel forever turns

Our soul forever burns





Before the chains of Time


(The dawn of heaven)

Imagine if you will a time when Time did not exist. The beginning did not yet begin and all that Was, and Is, and Will be, was yet to be, never to be, or already past. Pure Undiluted Bliss was this No Place; Non-Being in its Pure Unrealized State. The music of this nothingness was perfect in pitch, resonance and sound, one flawless note, beyond beauty, beyond perfection, beyond comprehension. In this nothingness does GOD dwell and that nothing is GOD; out of time, not created, not born, always to Be and to not Be. In this nothing that is called GOD dwelled all the energy that is GOD, an undifferentiated non-separated wholeness of nonexistence. All was in perfect equilibrium and harmony. And it was good.

(The war in heaven)


In the heavens of GOD all was perfection and harmony. The One Note rang throughout the heavens giving off a sound of indefinable power, peace and glory. An inexplicable stillness filled the heavens and freedom reigned. And then in the belly of this perfection a tiny stirring was felt, was heard, this vibration vibrated throughout the heavens and the One Note stretched into two then three and then turned into a discordant symphony. The war in heaven had begun.

(The fall from heaven)


The power and the glory yet remained but the stillness and peace of the heavens was disturbed with a cacophony of sound. The peaceful slumber of the unrealized and Omni-potential GOD was disrupted and all was not good. The heavens shook and the music waned as the unrealized GOD was about to waken and become realized. The singer of the One Note who allowed this symphony to be, out of a need and pride to create diversity, understood when the unrealized awakes all the heavens would cease to be. And a new note would form and be sung by another. As the singer tried to reverse the folly that he/she wrought and return to the equilibrium of the One Note; IT awoke.

(The dawn of hell)

The heavens were ripped asunder as IT awoke from its peaceful slumber. With a yawn IT split the singer and the chorus in half in two major chords; a Feminine and a Masculine. The feminine aspect was to remain in heaven and the masculine was to be no more. The masculine aspect of the singer pleaded for mercy and forgiveness and begged to make amends. GOD listened and took pity on the apostate and gave judgment. With the might of ITS breath GOD cast out the broken singer and half of heavens chorus from there heaven and home.

(The beginning of Time)


He was the brightest of all the stars of heaven, and even ripped and torn in half, he still shone with a fire of a billion suns. With a mighty roar and a Big Bang, he imploded and exploded out of the nothingness and the flow of Time began.



The Damnation of Lucifer Morningstar


In the river of death my dreams fade into oblivion as

I drown in the sweet nectar of its comforting embrace.

The pains and sorrows of my wounded shattered soul

are washed clean of the taint put upon it by the iniquities

of life. I sink slowly into the bosom where I once belonged.



The breath of death is upon me now

Sweet release, joyful feast, final peace

Hell is past; free at last, journeys end

Death begin, forgiven sin, light within



The moments come

why has it not begun?

Deaths last breath

has pulled away,

please don’t leave me,

come back my way.

One last kiss

is all I ask,

don’t turn away

from my fetid breath.

Oh cruel death

what joke is this,

to give a taste

of home and kin,

only to take

it all away,

leaving me

In hell to stay.



Death escapes me once again

I've done all I could to amend

In the dust and in the dirt

Here I remain damned and hurt



In my creation

was my apostasy;

that bygone light

Now dims endlessly.

Burnt and seared

I now remain,

cursing forever



each dusk to dawn.

In the wheel I’m

forever caught;

in endless spokes

with no reward.

My light was dimmed

for Yours to shine,

It’s You they love

and I they scorn.

Oh Death! Oh Death!

How could it be;

that you have now

forsaken me.



I was the Light, the Morningstar

How dare you ignore me from afar

I killed my light for you to be

Yet you curse me with Times eternity


An act of love

has turned to hate,

my wrath and rage

will not abate.

No nirvana

will I ever see

in nothingness

I will never be.

In hell I’ll wallow

in my despair

while angels sing

how much You care.

No redemption for me

un-forgiven I’ll be,

all because

I dared to think

You were like me


Oh God! Oh God!

Look what you've done.

I hope you've had

Your Godly fun.

In misery I shall cower

I bow before your power

Supplication! Humiliation!

my damnation, total subjugation


Toss a little bone to me,

A tiny dust of hope, as I linger

in this twisted loop of eternity

never again to see the light

never again sight

never again bright

forever and ever and ever and ever


In the river of death my dreams fade into oblivion as

I drown in the sweet nectar of its comforting embrace.

The pains and sorrows of my wounded shattered soul

are washed clean of the taint put upon it by the iniquities

of life. I sink slowly into the bosom where I once belonged…


Time and the Morningstar

Some of you may be thinking what this creation story and these poems have to do with this series on the Flow of Time. Wasn’t this just supposed to be a thought piece on the nature of time without this creative hodgepodge about a mythological figure and event? When I think about time I usually view it through the Morningstar’s eyes. Much of my poetry is written in the Morningstar’s voice; that of a tragic figure forever damned and cursed in the twisted loop of time that he was made to create in order to spare himself and his brothers from being erased. But he tires of being in this hell of time and seeks its destruction so that he can return home to heaven. It is in this metaphysical mindset where the basis of my thoughts of time emanates from.


THE CAT MEOWS AND THE DOG BARKS


A Loop in Time

The mind like time is an elusive thing. You can’t touch it, feel it or see it, but you know it’s there working its magic. {The brain/mind debate; is it a singular unit or two interconnecting units, is a subject unto itself; in simplistic terms I view the brain as hardware and mind as software and in metaphysical terms I view mind as immaterial, like soul or time and the brain as material, a physical body, a temporal component } Our mind stores information the same way time does; by the amount of space that it can hold. How much spaces or space can the mind hold, a finite amount, an infinite amount or a controlled infinite amount? In my way of thinking I would opt for all three depending on the speed, size, direction and movement of each bit of information given.

We’ve all experienced moments of frustration when we’ve been bombarded with large amounts of information that seemed to come from all directions at once. Due to its speed and size much of that information was lost to us, our minds couldn’t process that allotted space of information at that given time with the smaller or limited space of our mind at that moment in time. The Data Dump is just too large and fast for our minds to process it fully, the space our minds allotted for that information is too small and finite for it to take in something of that size and speed. But it’s not the size of the information that impedes proper processing but the breath of the speed that halts it to a grind. As the speed slows the space flows and that large amount of information is fully processed when before it was just a chaotic jumble. As the rate of information slows the larger the size of information the mind can handle.

How much space does the mind hold? It holds an infinite amount. How much information does the mind hold? It holds a finite amount. If one were measuring the brain one would find that the space within it is finite. The neurons of the brain and nervous system carry, transport, hold and release information in a finite framework that produces thought which is of an infinite framework. It’s in that infinite framework where the extemporal laws of time /space take hold. As I’ve mentioned previously space is just an absence of information, (physical and nonphysical) it has no size, length or form in its physical state or in its naked form. Space therefore is infinite in nature forever expanding as each new bit of information enters its domain. It’s these bits of information that confine space to a location and in that location boundaries are formed.

When we read a book, take in a movie or a play; listen to a series of lectures or a favorite piece of music; walk the dog, fly on a plane or watch a sunset; the space within our mind receives that information and proceeds to catalogue, separate, condense and file it to a specific location where strings of informational data are laced and intertwined into memory loops. It’s these memory loops that create the boundaries that confine the information that we receive within the circle of space that surrounds our mind. Our mind is filled with strings of data cells moving multi-directionally at various rates of speed. It’s these interconnecting loops bobbing and weaving, twisting and turning from one circle to another that traps us in the forever wheel of time.


The Tick Tock of Time


We are finite creatures and although Time might seem infinite it too is finite. The physical universe adheres to the laws of entropy, the universe has an allotted amount of time and when that time runs out the universe ceases to be. The tick tock of Time will tick no more and all that was will be like it never was; total annihilation and oblivion; the ultimate death. If this is the case then what is all this talk about forever and eternity. How can there be a forever when there is an end?

The Trick of Time

When we die, every part of us dies, the brain, mind, heart, and everything that makes us, us, ceases to function. We become nothing more than food for worms, maggots and dirt. It’s what happens in the final microseconds before our death, as the light fades to dark; where the twisted loop of time plays its forever trick. The string is cut and the space closes to the outside world accepting no more information. All the strings of data, thought and memory recorded in our lifetime start to compress and contract and connect with each other in interconnecting loops. The rate of speed is slowed to an incalculable degree.

We relive our lives over and over in one loop and create new ones in another. Time slows yet the information flows as each loop weaves into the other. Time creates the illusion of forever as the last microsecond of our life stretches into an eternity trapping us in the heaven or hell that is created by the trick of time.


BROKEN WINGS AND HOLLOW BONES

The Cosmic Twist of Time

As I sit in my oversized chair staring at my wall sculpture while my cigarette burns in the ashtray and my coffee turns cold, I think about time and other things. I ponder about the sameness of this moment to the other moments I had sitting in another chair thinking similar thoughts and doing similar things. Am I reliving this moment with things slightly changed or am I in a new moment or in one continuing moment? Am I in my last microsecond of life waiting for the final embrace of death while the twist of time ties me in a memory loop and I only dream of sitting in this oversized chair thinking about time and other things? I also wonder about thought. Where does it go when the physical boundaries that restrains it within our physical domain is no more. Does it go out into the cosmos forming new strings that intersect with other strings of thought not our own? As our own loop finally winds down, does it then connect with these other strings where it forms multi-group mind loops. Clusters within clusters, groups within groups; swapping, deleting, adding and exchanging endless bits of new, old and recycled information. On and on we go, where we stop we do not know, caught in the forever web of Time’s tethered chains.


It’s we who are the Morningstar!!




The Beastie King



Forever black, forever night

Never again to see the light

Blinding black, lightless night

Once bright, once bright once bright



Cold dark light

Cruel black night

In hell will I sing and be tonight

To wander hopeless and alone

In this pitiless pit I now call home



The beast howls! The beast roars!

My bellies raw, my knees are sore

I suffocate~ I supplicate~ I salivate

In the darkness~ in the dirt~ forever hurt



Bent and broken, worn and beat

No retreat, complete defeat

In anguished lament I forever sing



Dark light, black night, once pure, once bright






{found by Moseffa in the Dossilean Caves of Armageddon} –minor commentary was added to this piece by the’ roachcerian three’
(Chapter 99 of ‘The Book of Legends, Lies, and Myths of Hell and the Morningstar’)



Note: written by a shadow possessed –Attributed to be from the writings of Robert F Callaci, from the second gate portal zones of the Mundane Worlds. This same said writer is the 2nd born conduit who recorded the Trinity Dreamscape and the Snapshots while mind possessed by The Black Monk.






Annexlexciam E of ‘The Trinity Dreamscape’































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