The I that has a beginning will have an end.
Posted 10 May 2020 - 12:20 PM
If we are not what we think and believe, what does that leave?
Posted 10 May 2020 - 01:06 PM
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Posted 28 June 2020 - 03:07 AM
I remembered something interesting tonight from my childhood. I guess, I'll put it here. I grew up in a trailer park. The trailer park my dad would eventually die in. For my entire life, he'd lived there. Or at least all of the life I remember. My brother was homosexual and I'd picked up a lot of a homophobic insecurity on account of my upbringing... turns out my mom and dad shared in those insecurities, on account of their lives. That's the strange thing about being human. Where do our feelings come from. Your earliest childhood is mostly forgotten. Children absorb a language, they absorb so much more. They create a personality, is that right? I guess so.
I remembered this odd coming-of-age night. I was in this trailer park, hanging out with my friends. I went to a friend's uncle's. I remember standing outside and his uncle told me, when I talked to him, that I was someone that would be that old man at the corner one day, the one with all the cats. Huh? I guess I was a bit odd, enough so that he decided I was destined to be that man with the cats... Seems a bit like an asshole.
I hadn't drunk alcohol yet in my life then. I find myself in a darkened room with other teenagers. Somehow I drink about 9 shots. Then, the night skipped, though I hadn't realized it skipped. I notice I never got drunk... Black out drunk, I guess... I never felt drunk even slightly. I remember there being lots of insecurity around and about homosexuality. Such a strange night, where this group of people started telling me that'd I'd been odd... someone told me I'd went outside and acted like a dog running around the tree.
Not quite sure about that night. One of the weirder times.
In any case, first thing to disappear when I'd started on mushrooms was insecurity around homosexuality. Then, layers of fear. Fear of death, fear of life, fear of self-destruction, in death, in life, in school, fear of the dark, fear of hell... I've noticed too that I quite like the beauty of bent and blended genders. To what end do mushrooms take me?
For a time, both with mushrooms and with ayahuasca, I knew a state of mind where the world seemed divinely conspiring. The actors sort of smiled... they knew as I did, at the time, that it was just a play. But, to what end does knowing that take me? I still very much approve of what Ramana had said when asked what God's purpose is... he said, "God has no purpose. What is, is." I might be paraphrasing, since I haven't located that quotation since the day I saw it and liked it. What is, is. Seen in the light of realizing one's non-existence, in the light of one's eternal existence, what is, is. "Who will answer for my pain?" appears non-sensical. "What is my purpose?" If God merely is, and is content to be. What could my purpose be, other than that? I am.
Edited by Guy1298, 28 June 2020 - 03:08 AM.
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Posted 28 June 2020 - 09:24 AM
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Posted 28 June 2020 - 10:10 AM
I don't think much of the "world" out there understands contentment, and perhaps more, being contented with feeling discontent. All the expressions are unique. Even Anthony Hopkins saying something, bringing all that weight of a skillfully contrived character, can't trap what are infinite parameters inside a formula of one-size-fits-all. If one can't be satisfied with what is, being what is, one might be missing quite a lot. What seems to be, I suppose there we can seem to do some work, though isn't it really play?
What's the next semi-serious bullshitter got to say?
Sorry, just playing forum.
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Posted 29 June 2020 - 10:27 AM
Watching the series Westworld and while it has its moments of questionable acting Hopkins performances are worth putting up with the other less profound performances. In this scene he explains the nature of consciousness. Your recollection of your youth and realization as the source of some long held beliefs reminded me of this scene
That show is awesome. It's what really got me thinking more introspectively about what consciousness means, and how it is tied to our memories
Like how does our mind know the difference between a memory that is from a dream and one that is from reality? In the end the both become only memories to us
Not sure how, but it knows
Edited by flashingrooster, 29 June 2020 - 10:31 AM.
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Posted 01 July 2020 - 03:46 PM
It's really important to not trust your mind. I've said that before, but... it's clearer today.
There are thoughts and ideas that go unseen, believed in, worshipped, impulsively given confidence... it's those ideas and thoughts that are really fucking us. Without them, presence is clear... what I am, what I can and cannot do, simple, easy.
Without seeing that, it seems I clumsily create a self-idea to become which is working against a world it has little to no power over. Seems reasonable that that self-idea is fucked. But, don't tell that to the self-idea... he's responsible for EVERYTHING...
Mistaking the transient for the eternal. Mistaking dream for reality.
Easily he comes to feel like a victim of life, not knowing that his true nature is victimless, at peace, regardless of a momentary, but unfortunate, fiction.
And it's completely normal to be he. That's why I'd much prefer to be mad...
Edited by Guy1298, 01 July 2020 - 03:52 PM.
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