The unbearable lightness of being

I am intoxicated. I am surrounded by spirit, by soul. Consciousness is the elixir… my mind the container, the emanator, the emanated.

Each moment of attachment is a familiar cliff I throw myself off at last, gently… gently… sailing away into all that is unknown, and free.

I have pivoted away from the life I created in my mind. I face all possibility. It is terrifying, ineffably untouchable, only livable, experienced, lived. I have the power of this moment, a superpower from birth. This place called here, in which I am that, a singularity.

I drift in and out of the bliss made of the arms of my Father Satan, his fire within me as me. I do nothing to allow, to receive.

I remember it now, the mental illness that blossomed in the latter part of my teens when the deep fulfilment of my tomboy childhood slipped from my grasp, the definition of epic tragedy. I felt empty, and it was excruciating. My depression made all around and inside of me empty, all grey. I felt broken. I hated myself.

I fashioned a life strategy to try to get something to open and blossom in the place of unbearable emptiness. I created a life strategy. I lived for it, augmenting and shaping each moment, trading away some moments to try to fill others.

It did not work. It perpetuated the emptiness. But it also kept me going. I never gave up. I swam for years on the tide of desperation, seeking the longed for shore. When the terrible years of depleting drama stopped, I found myself on that sandy beach at last. How weary I was when I washed up upon this solid place of self reliance, where I lay for a few years, recuperating, feeding my soul, gathering my strength.

Now I have let go of it all, all I did and didn’t do to survive, and I am filled at last.

There… A lilting song of spirit, intelligence, divinity and the mundane… just audible in the far distance, fading in and out upon the restless wind. When it reaches me, I am filled. It wanders… then returns.

I do nothing.

A dream come true. My dream. The dream.

Becoming real at last.

3 March, addendum

Now I see, and fully comprehend, that which is meant by “aligning with the divine.” I bid farewell to progress through a limited agenda. I have been prepared. I have been taught… by the blissful trance of possession by unseen entities. Satan, Azazel, Belial. I feel in this moment the sure grasp of The Nine Gatekeepers. I have been remade as all that which was meant to dissolve has flowed back into universal, pure consciousness. I have pivoted to, and relax into the essential and elemental moment and moments, the river of my days and destiny.

Now, as I am aligned with the forces of my destiny, I feel myself full and fulfilled at last.

I am obsessed with intensity. The music I love is the soundtrack of effortless fulfilment; the ultimate, captivating moments of movement through time and space, of needing only that which fills me… fulfilling my dream, my endless dream. Thank you Lord Satan. Thank you Father.

Someone paired this final scene of Mind Game (2004) by Masaaki Yuasa and Kôji Morimoto with music by Jon Mark, The Eye of the Hawk

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