Your  real interests are success and power. 

You are at war with yourself. 

Why all these guards at the temples and airports? 

When will it end?  

The answer is blowing in the wind which tells that it will end for each one who responds to inner truth. When all are at peace war will end by itself.

I Am Serious

Here we are in this great puss pimple of a garbage heap hanging out with these freaks and we do not know what for,

saying everything else has got to go!

It happens.

Nobody knows why.

Suffocation perhaps.

One stands and is joined by

a few more.

Suddenly a movement is underway that no power on Earth can withstand. What was nowhere is the world's headquarters for a spell. What a spell!

And it is over.

Did anybody learn a thing? Not really. But somebody made another killing.

Fashion.

I am looking for another who sees what I see. Are you there? Out there? Anywhere? I am Billy the Kid's alias step brother. No credentials. I heard a minstrel who is different. Calling into a vacuum of dark cold space that was my heart until it warmed and began to ache for unknown existence in a language never heard before. It calls for anything but what is the current style of dress and conduct. Misconduct. It says any fashion will do. To accommodate everybody. There is a language in every language that is understood by all. There is a voice which sounds out souls. Souls are formless realities that give every form its such-ness. Like the dialog of a play does to actors. Do not confuse the symbols for the sincere dialog, a formless wave. Waves without form need love in order to make cookies we can actually eat. When we speak to another we wave their being. In ignorance, we wave it wrong and they retaliate. In truth, with a low voice, love's voce, we wave it perfectly. Harmony happens. I used the word love. Nobody knows what that means. It springs from the unknowable. To un know. A word that is unknown is fresh. Is always out of fashion. It is better left undefined for it is not its meaning we want but its unapprehended nonmeaning-ness which gives sight to sore eyes. I am wispy filament and I am serious.

END OF TAPE

The investigation is complete and the treasure found and the treasure is simple. Humans come to Earth with the profound inside them, all of it. Priests were invented when the attempt was made to extract the profound from its source and pretend it needs to be taught, making it the subject of special Holy Men or Women. Ever since, people have blindly accepted the situation described in books as if asleep. Priests' first job is to hypnotize victims into believing God ordained them to serve this way. Look close and you will see. It has always been priests ordaining priests.

But, even the most dedicated atheists have been so hypnotized. They are closer to truth because at least they do not follow priests. However, they are robbed of the divinity in their breasts as much as the hypnotized believers based on their strong and justified mistrust of the religious who shout, heresy! We all got robbed.

If you see a scene wherein a man and woman embrace and kiss in a way that causes a special feeling to arise in you and you have to name what you saw and you name it love you may try to teach others to love each other. You cannot. Do you not see that? It, what you observed, was in the people, not separate from them. Any attempt to separate it and deal with the abstract notion you believe you have found is madness which ruins something exquisite which remains at home in the hearts of us all. If you wish love for others do the obvious...love them.

Art is an inseparable quality of each human being to evolve its own beautiful way. Love is an art. Life is an art. Once understood, one automatically drops the names, life and love and art and simply and genuinely accepts what is. The feeling is peace. Once that is understood, one drops the term peace. The attempt to separate parts of what cannot be separated by naming them and then dealing with them as abstract notions you believe you have discovered is madness.

And it is the crude treatment science uses to understand something by cutting it apart and examining the parts. For instance, there is no such thing as agriculture. What you have called up until now, learning, is a substitution of fantasy for reality. All and every so-called helping profession is a form of madness. Little wonder they have such tragic effects on those they purport to serve. Rather than violently slice, chop and hack up art, decide to serve it. In so doing, you will rediscover lost abilities to know all about yourself and others in a new way of life that works!

Some time it's best to feel all alone…

gotta feel somethin' like that when you bo'n...

Some time it's best to be out on your own

jus' hands, a voice, an' skin an' bone

Nobody needs a suit to put upon

an' nobody needs his name carved on stone

What's yer name, boy?

Got nu'n

Let's go, Got Nu'n.

William Blake wrote all this better than me a long time ago. Most called him crazy. About here is when it pays to be crazy.

Men and women complain, they protest.

Write stories, answer questions from the press.

Organize their work and carry the torch into the street

pounding out the rhythm: Give all there's no retreat!

Demanding justice, with a will to sacrifice so intense

that to deny them any longer will finally make no sense.

And still there is no change that lasts. In a matter of a few years everything will be forgotten and it will be as it was before. One wants to conclude that man is such a useless animal he cannot actually improve. All his institutions are as purgatories. What is called for is a purgative which must be administered from outside their walls. How to escape...and the purgative...

It's a hard one to swallow. So hard is it that all who read it blush then go on to the next teaching so they do not have to understand the hard one. That means the next generation remains in purgatory. This is getting old and monotonous. Calls for a change of pitch or a new way of intoning.

Purgative: It is not enough to know with certainty;

what one knows must be so.

It was told in antiquity a long, long time ago

that the gods cursed man, not whole anymo.

What does that mean? And,

What's it got to do with the soul?

Man, wo man, two of us roll

in opposite directions 'round a donut hole.

and since nuthin else matters we're vicious…

disconnected monkeys and supersttious druggies

divided in sex and gender malarky

mad to reconnect; but too mad to ask Sparky.

Some times dominate other times be dominated,

whatever, just makes us more distrusting, frustrated

just to feel whole for a little while is a lost art

and every time we are asked, why not go and ask Sparky?

He say: I got no explanations fer ye

got no solutions to impart

jus wanna say: NOTICE

all the ways you have tried to once again be connected

all point back to the source which the gods disconnected;

and that's all; except when you do, think about forgetting to even try to reconnect because-

we tend to hang together with people who think like we do, or wethinktheydo

and the joke is that we do it to form unions who will join in our quest to destroy any and every thing that is not us and be reconnected by the necessity of being all there is left and that's a suicide pact combination last man standing scenario and the punch line goes:

see, you were whole all the time we were just screwing with ya.

I told this to set the stage for a finale I hope will enlighten me. The deal is it takes two to make a deal. The deal goes down because it's a deal. What is no deal goes not down. Only up. Whenever one person notices even for a second that each of his connections is connected to a trillion dollar bash, where all deals lead, that has at its core a terribly vicious nature that goes with us even when we go as lambs into a closet alone to pray, doubt falls away- in a one time understanding manner. All who go to a superior being for a real talk find a mirror. In the reflection is seen who you have been pretending to be. So long as you have not a sympathetic rapport with the mirror- you call it God. Am I now ready to accept that true love is by its nature bound to reveal truth?...then let it.

I am sitting alone at home on a Friday afternoon in April, 2016 watching the film Inception featuring Leonardo Dicaprio wherein a mature female actress asks a younger one, Do you know what it is like to be a lover? To be half of a whole? And for the first time in my life I understand that two, a male and a female, can recognize, not the other half of themselves, no, that is pure selfish thinking and loveless...but recognize the other half of a self that is whole already into which I am included...the other half of what is not me and never will be me is more like it. It amounts to the recognition of the unity of all things. Well, of course, it's love. Wild, free, untamable love. Later today, I was reading a novel and someone wrote that young men and women are soon used up in the magnetic field of love where they really were foolish enough to enter. Perhaps the best thing is to be used up in such a way.

I watched another film a few days later, a love story set in Greece during World War II. An old man tells his daughter what he thinks love really is and I had heard it before as well. He declares love is not the falling in love, the madness of all that. It is, he believes, what is left after that fades away, which he is certain it must because it did so for him. To the old man, love is an entwining of roots of the two people who fell in love so deeply that one cannot imagine living without the other even absent the madness called being in love. Sounds romantic but it is selfish. I do not buy it. It feels more like the two damaged souls who fell in and then out of love with each other were so beaten up by the experience they prefer never to risk it again. So, they decide this left over state with roots entwined (me and not me wrapped together) is real love. They make promises to each other they will break. That is how love first becomes another four letter word. What I am left with is the sense that what we complain about really amounts to the life in purgatory we designed for ourselves after failing to stay the course of love that grabbed us, chose us, for its own. Only in wild love is the haunting loneliness of isolated self overcome.

My teacher said recently that one understands peace first, then one can begin a practice to understand self. I wondered, How strange. What does he mean? Does it apply to me or only to the prisoners he speaks to in jails? He said to them, You need to understand both.

I see myself, not me, whole, and it includes equal parts of female and male vital powder merged into it so deep and complete as to allow for no other existence except as that. Bye.

Super Power

Trapped inside walls I've walked this world alone so many years so many tears so many fears I fell on down went underground looked all around and frowned They say they'll dig a hole in solid ground 'n bury me so I'll fly free and never know life's mystery
That's all over now somehow I don't see how a bird flew by 'n caught m' eye that little bird said not a word just dropped on my head a black and silver turd that dripped on down and met m' frown and introduced me all around
Welcomed home I stood back up and walked the road no pick up truck followed by a lonesome hound I called him Buck he's a-teachin' me how to wag a tail just enough to bring good luck an' hold onto a bone or two an' before long we had us a family an' rode in a rebuilt camper truck Tha's all I know so don't ask me what's in the Wheaties what's on tv an' another thing the very best thing Buck's taught me I'll love you back ev'n 'fore you begin to love me
Tha's m' Super Power
I see through walls without naming what I see an' it turns out the mystery's how happy lurks in the shadow of every misery an' since the reverse can't be said for misery, well, you're all free!

an' you can tell the Warden I said that

Who are we? We live in our heads. You and I are being hypnotized continually by corporate greed to vote for the candidates of its choice. We like it. We insist upon it. They laugh their asses off. We laugh at ourselves as if by choice. We dance on cue. To somebody else's tune. He who pays us plays our tune for us. Who are we?

Hey, you have to exist in a cloud of stupidity to suffer this world's laughable images. Nations are imaginary. All of them, not just the other guy's. Yours! There is no cloud where your information is stored. They have made you to think that way for a reason. The reason is to control you. To manipulate you. You are your only hope for an escape from the programmed nuthouse. One nut at a time.

I heard an intelligent man speak recently of what it means to be an American. He is capable. He makes lots of money. He is a boss; yet exists in a cloud of stupidity. What it means to be an American? Only someone who is willing to falsify a presentation to others will talk in such a manner. Nobody is American. We are what the wind says we are. Listen. Fail in this and you remain in the nuthouse. People who live in nuthouses are nuts. Anything can happen there. Many make a promise to straighten out the circle of idiots from inside the circle. What the Hell is that?

Okay, the country-western song goes, I'll be at peace when they lay me down... But, listen. If you fail to find the peace you wish for before death, when it's right inside you all the time, how you gonna find it as a skeleton? I mean, if you cannot find it with a living brain tied to a living heart...and a lantern...and two hands...too busy trying to find out what you don't know to notice what you do...well, what have you to complain about?

TAKE A LEAP

What partnership is worthy of its name? I see tee-shirts, caps, bumper stickers, logos, and slogans all over the place. Is that it?

A wedding ring? A house? Schools with excellent credential for the kids? Activities? Opportunities to form ties with other kids? Team sports? If you look closely and find these to be empty of truth, existing solely to trap you into a wonderland of fake shit will you go?

Ask this: is a real partner, one who will stand by me, going to wear a tee-shirt stating that with artwork? Can you tell real partnership as easily as two wolves meeting in the wild? Ever try to put a tee-shirt on a wolf?

Now, I now that people at large do seek with all their might to join with others in some common purpose and die to serve that. It is obviously in us. We go to such incredible lengths to show it. Boys go out for football teams with completely arbitrary colors and flags and uniforms and bands and cheerleaders and stadium lights. Girls try show business in every way imaginable. People with talent useful in some trendy new business field are hailed as champions, paid huge salaries, and given wads of capital by investors to startup a corporation and hire workers to join them as a team to make money. Why? Really.

Can you imagine a wolf pack so stupid? Or, a wolf that cannot understand what matters most to it and follow it naturally? What made us decide to follow a contrived plan for life? Prefer it? It is so entrenched now it is a wonder anyone can stop. Too late? Look, I am not comparing you to a wolf out of blindness. I know you are not a wolf. I am not a wolf. I am searching for a natural being, and you were once just that, to point out to you its way of life.

Think of some human being you know about or have heard about who you think may have been loyally following his of her own inner drummer all the way. Study that life. Like your own life depends upon it, study. If you cannot think of such a person, study the life of Woody Guthrie. You have to decide. Is it wise to be advertised by a club of fools who do it for money? Is it wise to go to a doctor who practices medicine for money? I am asking whether you believe you have an innate ability to discern a person who has no agenda with you in mind to partner with for an unknown journey day-by day?

What is certain is you will never know unless you take a leap.