Many thanks to www.planetmike.com for the more-than-real illusion
I thought there might be someone waiting out here where the ...burden of creation is embraced by those of us who long for the exit wound to reopen. I thought that there might be someone in this realm of elsewhere, this graveyard of epithets and epitaphs, that there might be some haunt who does not cringe when cold concrete fingers search through spinal fluid, search for warmth and room to curl up and die. Some haunt who, if I am not too battered and bruised, not too blackened to risk my outstretched, feeble hand, will not beat me back once again; I thought I might seek into the darkness, here, with my last failing hope to find only that which is destined to die; that which is too fragile, too frail, too fuckin’ fleeting to grasp, hold, and perhaps, too cold…
I just thought…
Ein Sof: The boundless or infinite, The Kabbalah point of emanation: “Anything visible and anything that can be grasped by thought, is bounded. Anything bounded is finite. The boundless is called Ein Sof, Infinite. It is absolute undifferentiation in perfect changeless oneness. It is the essence of everything hidden and revealed, and it itself remains concealed. You can compare Ein Sof to a candle from which hundreds of millions of other candles are kindled” D.C. Matt, The Essential Kabbalah.
Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and cried incessantly:“I seek God! I seek God!” He provoked much laughter…
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. Wither is God?” he cried; “I will tell you we have killed him—you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and went out, “I have come too early,” he said then; “my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way…This deed is still more distant from them than the most distant stars—and yet they have done it themselves...What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?” Friedrich Nietzsche, Die Fröhliche Wissenschaft, 1887.
“Living just for dying, dying just for you” Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, Black Sabbath.
I'd rather speak the truth out my ass than spew shit out my mouth.
Many thanks to www.planetmike.com for the more-than-real illusion
