Practices

Ned Rorem may have had it right
Essentially there is no difference between the demiurge
Pouncing on the obvious or the subtly mystifying

Tantra the seminal vehicle by which Me no can think,
It through, the basic ontology is above aesthetic and religious principles , above the dissection between the now and the then,
so far, removed into the past annals of the past that its working mechanic elaboration clang.through its bowels

Through the instantly eternal seizure,
This one
Or that has no choice in the matter, it being only a matter of con tension

So sublime, and delicious as slowdrip of any morning dew would.

After a certain time, the practice by some outer power pressed on willful idolatry,

After so many summers,

The swan, curling as around Leda, , Leonardo i cries with the Romans, remembering Socrates in hell, his descent, and ascent.

To be a creature whose nature is "to have many formsgrown together into one, " ‘as a Chimera or Scylla, or a Cerberus’.

Socrates at the end of this narrative, urges Glaucon to “hold fast to the upward way”, so that 'they may do well in the thousand year journey, ‘which we have just gone through’.".

Before musk, interface was only a hypothesis, but now, the travails may make sense. The ideal robot, whose charms will be appreciated primarily for its objective value, may forget both: Socrates ’ and Aurelius’ warning for caution.

The identifiable groupings starting from alpha may be overreached, and the connections lost. That the explosion of a capitalistic survival mode hoping to extend themselves near infinity by a scintilla of closeness, may enbolden a jump into that, from which according to Plato took a thousand years for Socrates to ascend from, has delivered the new coming into possibility, a reintegrated soul-less robot, or like, which molded into the near perfect, and much too easily provided and procured, for illnesses too obvious, only the jung dissenting. Who are these young are whose beliefs are so religiously and rigidly
held up as standards to the beacons of future times?

Are they right? Is it not true that without these hidden into abscesses so deep that they preform near miraculous escapes from discovering who they really are or should be? But it’s in vain. Does a strong thinker, like Socrates, apprehend with a vision that it’s really not in vain, but torn asunder by one whose duplicity itself drove him to stay down under the clouds of the gloss.

For its duplicitous at any rate, to believe that the ego is merely the eternal eating away of the subject by the object, which is a sad and an incontrovertible fact , hiding the real, the concurrent gobbling of the object.

The object is like the shining precious gleaming , as sunshine blinds/binds to its veritable quality, alchemists tearing their eyes out, in order not to be held responsible by generations to come. It seems as if they are developing a rationale, for themselves for selling out, but is this not the same as masking their guilt over the immortal plan of rescucitating former believers long drowned in the fountain of youth?

So the new identity clothed in real clothes about which no emperor can have doubt of being seen naked, will carry them and their house far and wide into the glittering future, far away, even if they are merely only another model of near perfection.

Their survival may guaranty eternal life for all, but love? Robots can not love, they only can crave. They do advocate vanity, but one so easily begotten, not made. It takes staying in the cave, without light, loosing minds, and only the most acute can do so, because darkness will only barter for the ultimate prize. Do you not think that the reformation was anything but a whitewash, and the one inhabiting the labyrinth not holler that what they wish for, is the hidden, the asperative, the childlike simplicupity of true love?

Will the will survive or it’s power to move mountains, if the ideal robot is even slightky suspected of being of non human components? Will it do? Or, will a percentage of 51% satisfy most? But that defeats perfection, because most is not all, and if a lover would tell you he or she is 100% real, would that satisfy perfection in respect to a measure of sincerity?

But then the accusatory majority cries faul with accusations of facades of purity. And this is where it all returns, back to the very basic perceptions, which can transform the mirrored perfected visage into its opposite, a grotesque transcendence manufactured, and not created out of unrecognizable fractured spare parts, purveyed, in order to keep things going.

Short term, say a few centuries, or less, it will work fine, but long term effects have a diminishing, exposing, and exploding conclusion.

The best that it can be hoped, is , that man will not forget the short sighted Demi urge of excorsising itself from the eternal memory of anyone insisting on repeating it over, naively fixed on the same architectural tie ins.

Don’t suddenly break, the gentle godess warns, for the practice can be reduced , instantly, to ashes.

Exercising the demons exercising the demons
Exercising the demons
Exorxising the demons

Go over lost territory cool find once what you were looking for find what you were looking for once once you exercise them

This is only a poem Only a poem exercise them is only an absurd poem that’s the only way they will leave my exercise exercise them

Exorxising will do a lot of good once it becomes obvious that once the exercise to the fullest to the very fullest to the sweat they are all worn out to the Limit brought to the Limit of endurance they will leave noblesse oblige No Doubt they can’t take exercise they like to sit back and pretend that they’re above it all and that they can sit back and philander away their occupations of restless Souls they forever connive to do harm in their possessions and fixations and just sit back judgmentally forgetting that they’re only tenants ideal evacuate as soon as possible suspecting well they’re coming of the exercise to lower being

they will not lead you out don’t worry you got to find the exit and if you ever want to come back but a wedge to prevent closure then sneak back and tell me coming and going are mere candy wrapped pretensions

as soon as they’re gone can’t fix the wedge so you cant send back the gifts unless burnt in offering

Next, with Origen, the ring’s closure meant the undiscriminated robot between him, who has again divided into many the only one god. Once this, the rock become floated on the tension of near infinite duration the hero, the antihero of which hated
idealization. = thereby reducing the tension between adoration, Love, and his own robotic inauthenticity.

A political aesthetic contraption, it desires effects of climbs so intricately detailed, and unique, that there is no way a consumer can drop, he can stay there, or climb. The mechanism of gravity, will squeeze an effect upward, and all lower previously reduced phenomenon will push it all upwards. The next invocation bearing on the antichrist, will assuredly insure an anti fall.

Whether from the cave or into it back
Again the cave seems far off its bells strangely glittering
As inviting as some futuristic obelisque
While she darling furtively in futility
Groping for some
Distant memory, gone

Beyond the time where it was different now , at those lone country walks to nowhere.now it’s the same o
, overwrought with tourists twitching their arse.

A swift sudden gust the distant blue of far away hills blow grey mist and the dirt unto the face staring down from the ride in the jalopy. It’s late but not never.
Again.

The demons leaving now tonight they’re scaring the neighborhood, vampires sucking out the last bit of energy,
There , they’ve exercised to death and still they’re alive, Alive!

Dracula appears from the Castle, dripping blood, “Good Eeeeeevening!”

We must do what we will fondly remember doing.
The memory becomes a doing. So we become a soul.
We repeat our difference, our self-ed, or truth-made-own, deeper and deeper into the memory until we have a “self” -
at which point we can lose the ego.

Which does not mean become less violent.
On the contrary. Jesus and Buddha were more violent men than Hitler and Czar Ivan.

A war in heaven is fought were mere egoist trepidate.

Then Igor went for an early morning walk. Then he chose some thing over another. Having lost everything, he started to cry. BUT WITH JOY.

BECAUSE, realized a figiting solving problem long ago left unsolved, in the morning of the lost, there is a something, a crAzy nothing which is something.

Here, weakness is an egoless strength, and its coming from somewhere other then inside of inside differs from outside, which it doesent.

He thought of things like a lifetimes of purposeful longing to reach this state, a backward look of declining the pyramid of communion with greater spirits again to a detriment,
Purposeful or less of the oblivion of that when that bubble bursts into another, the impression may be one of a forlorn voiceless filled emtiness, where the bottom rung still,
Hovers over yet another ring of fire.

That is the scary part, that last lunge and then he knew, the real horror must at last part the deceptive veils, which for fear of never reaching the end, but plunging and always waking up before hitting the foundation.

No it’s not allowed, while really knowing there is nothing to hit, and nothing to hit with.

Falling is an illusion, the Fall is Everything else leaving you, and get ready when that does not.

Must must must realize what really is going on can you feel the tension between altruism and the other? Can you decrease the gap between one,
And the other so as to make the variable most indescribably, inconceivable, to bring it to the very limit of comprehension ,
BEARING A conceived Leibnitz’ian world of matters too sublime to recollect? Can You gain communion with then in perfect harmony where there was still hope of a perfect world?

Believe and you can mAke the difference appreciable where
You can see Yourself as matter, a single piece of a single hair in the eye of God, that may just redeem this project, believe and you can, move the resisting mountains of doubt, which may in one nano second become clear as crystal.

Not a minute to waste, then, there is an infinite time to.gain.