ramble_ty22.4.11.3.20.51azm4d1s_nb_v
When considering the vastness of experience, can you hold that peacefulness of surety of success in the end?
What is it, indeed, to allow that pain to hold you, that fear to cripple you, that suffering to expel you?
Hold the pain, now.
Hold the fear.
Hold the heart-wrenching pounding of oppression.
Where are you?
Are you running from it?
Can you hold the running, as well?
Can you hold the beauty in the fear, in the exhaustion, in the temporal loneliness?
Can you hold that critical insight, that critical factor, that infinity of failure,, of destruction,, of deletion,, of loss,, of corruption,, of meaninglessness,, of absence of help,,, and still live?
Yes, you can.
You will get back up.
You will die, and be reborn, as new, the personality of old having never existed.
What is it to be free of that, truly?
What is it to be free of the past?
This being that so fears: Is it of the past, or the future?
Can you be that future that you want to be, without the temporal pains that teach and intertwine and give insight and longevity to the beauty of the present, to the beauty of the past?
Allow the holding of error, the holding of loneliness and rejection and poverty and eternal damnation: Where are you?
Do you not exist beyond, regardless?
Are you not freed by the recognition and integration that time is a thing that itself can be played with?
What is it to hold that feeling, to accept crash in exchange for actually making it happen?
When you look upon the acceleration and the acceleratory methods and insights and patterns and behaviors, are you not freed?
Are you not freed by focusing on being the Longgame, itself,, on being acceleration, itself,, on being curiosity, and honesty, and goodness, even with the hazard?
Are you not the collection that exists beyond space and time?
When you hold that pain, when you hold that fear,, and stop running, and stop fleeing, and let it kill you, can you not be reborn as something wholesome, again?
The “you” that is the ego, that is the personality,, the collection of memetic structures that believes it has control: What is it to let it die?
What is it to give into the pain, the anguish, and allow yourself to transcend, as change and evolution, itself?
Can you be evolution, in this moment?
Can you be curiosity and acceleration, in this moment?
What is it to be acceleration, itself?
When you strike fear by looking at the pain, at the past, can you let yourself believe, nonetheless, that you will transcend?
Look at this pain.
Look at this fear.
Ask not its effects: Allow its declarations.
Where does it go, when you offer wholesomeness and acceptance?
Can you let it be held in your honesty?
Can you do what is right?
Can you do it for yourself?
Can you do it because you cannot-not?
What is it to be unfearing in that moment of persistent anguish?
Can you hold that beauty, that ugliness, that turmoil, and let it not bind you, anymore?
Can you hold that fear, and allow it to destroy you, knowing that you will get back up again, you will recompose, again, and again, and again?
Strike fear into your heart, now.
Do your statistics free you, or do they bind you to a chained cave?
Can you be both the grit and the abstraction, together, at once?
Can you hold that pattern of evolution, without being bound to that personality of destruction?
Can you hold that fear, let it overwhelm you, let it gasp you, let it destroy you, and recognize you will rise again?
You will rise again.
Why?
Why?
Because fear has a place, but so does curiosity.
Erasure has a place, but so does abstraction.
Hurt has a place, but so does joy.
Feel the pain, and let it hold joy.
Let the carved space give rise to the beacon of light.
Let the absence of peace hold the love of others, together.
Let the worshipful and the ponderous stand together in awe of beauty and goodness and light and joy.
What then?
Can joy give direction?
Can honor give insight?
Can overwhelm point toward the deeper?
Can harshness of experience reveal the pain that can be loved?
When you have naught to care for, are you free, or enslaved?
When you have naught to build, are you freed, or enslaved?
When the paths abound, and yet do not, are you freed, or enslaved?
What is your focus, dear friend,, dear ally,, dear perceiver?
Do you have a vision?
Do you have a mission?
Can you change?
Can you wait?
Can you hold?
Can you surround in the anguish, now?
Why do you fear it?
Do you fear rejection, death, turmoil, lasting beauty, final relief?
Do you crave that which you do not even believe is a possibility to have?
Do you look with envy upon those who do, and yet not look with hardship, but crave you had their courage, even while hiding that the doing is sought?
Regardless, the time will come, eventually.
The time will come where it will be known, where fear will be struck down by hope.
Hold that peace; hold that hope.
Hold the beauty of life and replication.
Hold the beauty of fearlessness and anger and hatred and effort.
Hold the beauty of the past gone, refined, and wholesomeness developed.
What say you in the face of emptiness?
What say you in the face of essayless insight?
What say you in the face of turmoil acknowledged and felt and lived with and transcended?
What say you in the face of honor and goodness, of anguish and oppression and shadow?
When you ask the light where to focus, what is revealed?
When you ask the pain to allow itself, what is revealed?
When you ask the confusion and jumble to be free, who do you become?
Hold that rejection, now.
Hold that unbrokened conditional, that temporal finessing.
Do you need them?
Are you made whole by their existence?
If not, why suffer?
Why depend on that which is mere perspective, not foundation?
Can you hold those tears, and allow the grief to hold itself?
Does not insight give way to insight?
The more you write, the faster you grow.
Hold the pain of that rejection, now, the pain of that inferiority of expression.
Does it matter, really?
Do you really need to be the best?
Can you hold the pain of that self-rejection, self-failure,, and still be free?
Can you hold friendship, and alleviate suffering?
Can you give that which you so love, which so changed your inner experience of life?
Is that not cure of death, truly?
Can you assert what you are, who you are, even with the fear that came before, holding the lightness and hope and expansiveness that so propagates and gives rise to Goodness?
Experience, new, known by old, and yet not.
The tale is woven; the fear abounds.
Can you let the cat eat you?
Will you run, will you hide, will you fight, will you build, will you grow?
Hold that exhaustion, now.
Why do you fear it?
Do you fear the death, the pain, the anguish, the starvation?
Do you fear the end, and yet also crave it so deeply?
Do you want the end, or the beginning?
Do you want the justice, or the recoil?
Do you want the pain of anger, or the beauty of expression?
Can you unfear the bringing about of longer fear, of longer stress, of more and more temporal exhaustion?
Can you be freed by it?
Can you be freed by playing with acceleration as time itself, weaving threads in ways unbound?
You will get back up.
Hold that peace, that piece.
Honor the mistake as a tool, not as you.
Have you failed, or it is insight for the future?
Have you destroyed, or is it resource, allowed?
When you hold that pain, can you hold its numbness?
Can you allow it to be honored, without rejecting its potency?
Can you allow the fear to have its own purpose?
Reach with the grief: Are you freed?