I had my headphones on as I was leaving the car after getting home from work today, but somehow the sounds of birds pierced through my music. I stood outside my house for a while, leaning against my car with the music now playing in my pocket. Two blackbirds swooped down through the trees in the heat of a chase. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
I’ve always loved the absolute freedom and utter musicality that birds sing with—the way they speak their phrases, the way they use silence. It’s beautiful. They are blessed with the rhythm of nature, something I feel like I’ve lost with age. I want to find that inner spiritual rhythm again. Perhaps it’s buried within my dreams. I know it’s somewhere; nothing is ever truly lost.
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Substantial time is meaningful time; it is every moment in our life which we have been able to ascribe meaning to. The meanings are always liable to change, but nonetheless defined and certain. Substantial time is the world of the known—it is the limit.
Insubstantial time is time which escapes us on a regular basis. It is the idle hours where we wander from thought to thought without guidance. During these long hours, fragments of thoughts may come to us—wonderful, lovely, dreadful, repulsive thoughts—but we are never quite able to get them down on paper. In this way, insubstantial time is both the infinite highs and the infinite lows which we feel but can’t ascribe certain meaning to. Insubstantial time is where substantial time begins and ends.
Blur and focus.
One moment of singular focus and brilliance somewhere among the mesmerizing wash of colors, sounds, and feelings, like a dream that you can only remember one moment of. Somewhere is a torched memoir of the nostalgic past, or a pencil drawing of the earnest future—a desire that makes us breathe or makes us fade.
Blur and focus.
It’s how we live and remember.
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Each being possesses a unique internal clock that ticks to its own time. A large portion of an individual’s social experience is dictated by the pulsing aura that is emitted with every tick. Like two metronomes set to different tempos, two clocks may tick closely or disparately at any moment in time. The approximate distance between the two ticks determines how harmonious two beings are in relation to one another at a certain position in time.
It may be possible that two being’s clocks tick so distinctively that their relationship is generally harmonious only for three days and inharmonious for sixty years afterwards. Conversely, two being’s clocks can tick so similarly that they will experience harmony for sixty years, and disharmony for three days afterwards.
A peak in happiness occurs in relation to two beings when for one grand moment their clocks tick in unison. It is during this time that ideas and thoughts manifest themselves in forms beyond that which the mind can comprehend. The single, golden ringing of two clocks ticking in unison is the sound of the purest state of being, the purest state of love.
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Self-gradation, a lifelong process in which the self transforms over time to inflect different shades of selves, building upon itself like a pearl in a mollusk until a beautiful spectrum of colors is eventually conceived. Each person has their own unique spectrum consisting of varying hues and consistencies of color, otherwise known as the self.
They say that if two people share similar selves to a certain degree, the two could listen to and hear each other by making eye contact. For that moment, an eternity of understanding would connect their beings together to the Greater Sphere (the “Mind at Large”), and lead them to great prosperity.
Many people will describe their day as great or terrible. People also tend to use the phrase “ups and downs” to explain situations and happenings which, to them, are a collection of “goods and bads” or more precisely “positives and negatives.” To be honest, I find that this polarization of feelings—and to a broader extent the human experience—leaves much to be desired in the way of fleshing out an “objective perception” of the world around us (“objective perception” in this case meaning a perception of our universe that ideally resembles the ones talked about in most religions and spiritual teachings that focus on improving the Now, where a balance is found between all the natural forces of the universe).
I believe that in order to come closer to an “objective perception,” you must be willing to perceive things with added depth of motion—in other words left and right, up-left and right-down, and so on. Depth can be developed to up to three dimensions (any further will obscure our perception of the Normal World). There are many methods to achieve this, but I won’t list them here. You will know what they are when they come to you; it is written in the stones and in our very living.
To acknowledge the fact that days can also be described as okay or average, we must take into account the vast scientific experiments on atoms that prove that particles are always in motion, and thus in the same way a day is also always in motion and never simply okay or average.
I have a strange affinity to defective things, like my leaking black teapot, my old radio that slowly bends pitches, my holey lamp with the light bulb outlet sticking out, my childhood stuffed owl doll that has a horribly disproportionate face that you can only really notice in the mirror. Maybe it calms me to see the “imperfection” in these items, or maybe I am just so utterly disgusted by “perfection.”
I have always liked the number three because to me four is too “perfect”; four always seems to fail me, the fourth person always missing. Yeah. I work better in threes.
We live in a world that is marred by incessant imperfection—or at least that is what we are told. I think that discomforts me the most—not knowing the difference between perfection and imperfection, whether perfection and imperfection are simply illusions, whether or not either of the two even exist. I believe that this very thought is the root of all suffering, pain, confusion, and distrust.
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How strange would it be if we did not recognize the passage of time? Our languages would have no place for such concepts as past, present, and future, and there would be no reason to count days. The sun and moon cycle would simply be considered as the passage of the world between two realities—a mirror of light and darkness. The darkness would become the world of dreams when people fall asleep to the sun setting. The living spirit would travel through those rifts of the mind to those bizarre, fantastic places, where even the dead could walk among us, and we would embrace them, kiss them, love them. Upon waking we would be pushed through the rift back into a much more stable world, where we are pitted against nature in a desperate struggle to feel more. When we died, our gift would be eternal life in the darkness—the dream—where we would be able to love without restraint.
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If we think of sexuality as a capacity to love rather than a natural sex drive, we could say that heterosexuality comes from being rather disgusted by the things inherent to our sex (not ourselves—rather, the entire qualification of male/female), by our qualities as a male/female, by our chemical make-up. Homosexuality would then come from loving the things inherent to our sex, our qualities, our chemical make-up. Asexuality would be a disgust of both sexes and thus the human race in general; conversely, bisexuality would be the love of both sexes.
Pansexuality would be the love of individuals rather than people of a certain sex. I suppose you could say there is a little bit of pansexuality in all of us, as we do tend to love our friends, our comrades, our brothers, our sisters, our parents, etc.
Perhaps, then, the purest appreciation of the human race comes through omnisexuality: the love of the human race and all of its different qualities, regardless of sex. The word “omnisexual” is often used interchangably with the word “pansexual,” but here I am using it in a purer sense. The latin word “omni” means all—this is what I mean.
I do not know exactly where I am going with this, and it is flawed, wishful thinking at best. By textbook definition, sexuality is, of course, the capacity to have sexual responses to someone or something. Nonetheless, I find it interesting to contemplate in this way.
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