The Unborn Self: The Supreme Subject

candle burning

Jolly well done isn’t it sad to see the bloom in a half made process through the concrete that guards the machinelike structures of the entire insentience. I have come to the very end of the search, and see that the search is itself a necessary illusion to be played out. It is necessary for the person to believe himself to be separate and then to go on a journey inwardly to discover his true nature. How are we here now? It is by the grace of the supreme subject.

The love that comes through the channelled streams of eternity flower down raindrops on my forehead as I dance through the long night of despair. I see the turmoil within and have transcended that peculiar power. I am disappeared in that which is what it is. It is always what it is, always present and always perfect. What is it? It cannot be said, for it is there before every utterance and it is there prior every thought and sensation. Nameless, formless, shapeless, colourless, odourless, meaningless, sizeless. It is none and it is all. All are being witnessed and seen in it. It has no inherent qualities. It is simply existence itself. It will never die, for it is never born. Only that which is subject to change and time can perish, but that which is beyond is beyond.

Three birds loving each other endlessly as they sing their loving songs outside the gates of a great colourful garden, they are strong and healthy living and dancing with the winds and symphonies of life.

We are none but these creatures crawling through the night as the moonlight touches our backs when we walk that great walk. From the point to the edge, we are one who are fled from the ecology of souls that have been in carnage for thirty three million years. We cannot see that which is seeing for it is prior to all perception, however we can recognize its absolute subjectivity. When the dance has been ended, and the music has stopped, all shall return to silence and it shall never be lit again. We are now in the dance, but this too shall end. Love that which is unending and love will set you free. Jesus was wrong as he was noble in nature but naïve in hope. The truth cannot be grasped by the mind as it contorts and twists everything into shapes and form to categorize.

The Weeping Philosopher

Am I contradictory? Hell, I never intended to be!

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