Noumenon
09-13-2012, 02:14 AM
The following is a manuscript I worked on for a little while about a year ago, not really having a plot in mind but simply following the workings of my mind at the time. Consider it a bizarre stream-of-consciousness, or whatever, but I would like to see what is considered of my style, structure and thought put into the work, for there is a lot of that. Quite dense, I know, however I've been trying to get somebody worth while to read my writing, give some advice or just discuss the ideas presented within, if said person finds interest. In short, I'm trying to see whether I'm crazy or not. Alas, here it is:
I AM NO MORE.
Three days ago I started walking, and now I am still-- without direction or purpose, I am simply traveling whatever path I fall upon... Though, in a sense, it is now only through the paths of memory. There were reasons, I suppose, as there is for anything else when humans are involved, and it seems natural to begin this soliloquy with those rather than raving my madness into this immediatly. You see, at one point or another in my life I had finally become far too disassociated with society, with the countless other humans surrounding me, that I came to the conclusion of impulsively taking that divine step; the severing of the umbilical cord, as I call it; the separation from the collective I made manifest. It was not an action entirely of my own accord, in a sense, but it was as if uncontrolled, a thing which had to be done if not for my own sanity, for the sanctity of others. I mean this in a most literal way.
My mind is a cesspool of complex, interlocking streams of emotion and thought, intertwining with each other in immaculate formation, taken breathlessly by the potent significance of everything and anything in existence, yet at the same time reveling in the ultimate insignificance of everything and anything. A ridiculous concept, I understand now of course, but through it I found myself walking about in a trance, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the society I lived within simply because I couldn't bring myself to care, and not even caring that I was being so ridiculous by not caring. And what happens to a member of society that ceases to abide by it? This realization, you must understand, is one of powerful influence and through it I disfigured, mutilated, and cast aside any sense of objective morality or even existence of other minds, of glorious revelation, of the ability to know, of the existence of knowledge, of anything to my impersonal and introverted universe.
Of course, with an idea such as this consuming your thoughts and being in total, one cannot continue to coexist in a community of devout believers of meaning, when within me there was no meaning whatsoever. Relationships and social affairs were muddled in the whirlwind of my desolation, deformed into obscurity, made confusing not for myself, but for those whom had attached to me in my struggling years of civilized life. While I was only affected by the ill-logic of it all, these people --my friends and family and acquaintances-- would translate my obscurity into personal, emotional dramas. What I understood as an estrangement from the world, they took for an estrangement from myself. Due to this estrangement I would refuse to communicate with anybody not out of malice, but simply from a hopelessness in making them understand which took hold, gripping with vicious hatred, cutting off circulation. I was wandering a maze with no exit, I knew this, and through this I knew that I couldn't keep up this sick facade, this foolish pipe dream, any longer. I either saw a radical change of lifestyle as necessary, or to the noose I should find my only salvation. I decided then that I'd be better off on my own.
I began my walk with nothing save for a satchel of provisions, thus including the journal I'm writing this in, a pen, some water, and a bag of rice. Not much at all, but I wasn't concerned with preparation-- it was an act of rash impulse spawned from the bottom of desperation, an escape from the society in which I am alien. I abandoned all those I knew, all those who loved and believed in me, without even the slightest indication of farewell or sympathy; I left all those who had made my life their concern without any concern of my own... no matter! What truly matters save for what resides within the cavity of my skull anyway? I was acting off of a suicidal hysteria, but I felt no fear behind death-- I embraced it. I craved it as an escape, as something I could rely on, an option ever-present despite all what may happen. With this to fall back on, I saw no reason not to do whatever I wanted to do.
So three days then had I been walking aimlessly, experiencing life in its most unbiased form, in the supreme comfort of my solitude. Alone, detached, free from identity! Anonymous now, I could watch, and analyze, unbiased of the second-hand knowledge fed to me before. On the first day I wandered the streets of the city of my birth and tried my best, however vainly, to comprehend the lives of those inhabiting this urban cluster, yet what I saw brought my unstable mind to cringing depression. Filth-- wasted lives rotting in suburban boxes, wasted potential rotting in corporate towers. Unknowing symbols of their own destruction, they are the suppression of their own race incarnate, sprawled out before me like a testament of all my fears. An industrial gully-hole ravaged to grime, slowly mutating those masked and naked in the city's womb.
I must admit I had hope in the beginning. I thought that perhaps it was simply the particular community, simply the culture I lived within, the culture which I belonged to, that disgusted me. I thought that perhaps life abound is equal with my standards; maybe out there, wherever that may be, people operate in ways bearable for me. The potential of the human being, the inner spirit, I had confidence within. Besides, I thought, there must be others like me! I still, of course, had doubts lingering deep within the most realistic of logic my mind created, but I saw it as an excuse to get out there into the world and, regardless as to whether or not my hopes are realized, I'll have at least experienced something rather than succumbing to the noose from sheer hopelessness... Or rather I'll have at least experienced something before succumbing to the noose-- that swaying, inevitable noose waiting patiently for me...
I've learned that to know things, to possess real truths and convictions, one must experience them for themselves, first-hand, without fear or concern for the future. The system humans have created steals the rapture of pure experience from those unfortunate majority born within, and this is why I detest our modern lifestyle to such a venomous degree. You see, I've connected this modernization of the world with the defect of most human beings who live within it; we have fallen victim to the severe manipulation of technology, principles and values, of over-abundance, and our very own emotional appeals, enacted by a greedy, sinful higher class which, despite its terrible error, remains confident that their actions benefit rather than destroy people's lives. This damned society of ours, with its endless guidelines, behavior norms, objective thinking, and enormous influence, molds a sinister mask over the naturally beautiful face of the human being, severing the individual's true, actual lust for life which he or she is meant-- the killing of our passions and the abduction of our daring, our will, to fight back.
It tames us and preaches morals which raise a wall between thought and action, between desire and attainment, and those born wherein are raised only knowing this wall alone, not knowing of the glorious potential which lies beyond and, at most, only having a faint, nearly transparent mirage of what might exist out there. We human beings are suppressed by our own creation, that being civilization, and, despite the warnings of those few who can focus on that mirage, we fail to comprehend how exactly we are subtly devolving, becoming less and less the resilient and creative species we began as and more akin to a snail hiding in its shell. When, for whatever reason, the shell is removed the snail is frail, weak, and unaccustomed to the true world around it, at this point preferring its shell from a simple, animal fear of the unknown. Today's human plays the same role, the shell being our carefully constructed society, government, and civilization, and the snail being us.
I came to these conclusions through frantic observations made from within that shell, and once I had fully come to understand it, I hated it. It disgusted me, it sent me into whirling depressions spawned from the knowledge of our disease, from the potential in each and every one of us that this disease shrinks and hides, and from the fruitlessness of anything I could do about it! I had to leave, I had to abandon those who loved and cared for me simply because I could not love and care for them back anymore-- I couldn't bare their love, for love is real to everybody, even me. I knew that there was only one thing that I could truly love and feel at home within, and that was nature. The wild, untainted earth which birthed our race called to me. I could feel it beckoning my yearning soul and I followed. In nature I could be like a child, I could see myself as clear as a mirror, and now (could I really say the word 'now'?) I see that is all I really wanted: myself.
It was two days ago now that I left the urban cesspool of my upbringing. Without destination, I started walking north and eventually came upon great, enigmatic deserts stretching for miles on end, baking in the sun's burning, golden rays which cut through the cloudless sky like slivers of divine light. Upbringings of stone stood far into the distance, maintaining the appearance of a liquid from the translucent heat rays which rose from burning sands-- peeking over the horizon, these far-off mountains seemed to be beckoning me, luring my curious soul into their raw, desolate grasp. I felt as if destined towards these ancient Stone Gods, yet at the same time I shuddered when I thought of their empty canyons of silence, miles away from anybody and everybody, holding secrets deep within blackened caverns which I could only fail to comprehend.
And then, at the peak of my obscure fear, a faint, piercing screech, unlike anything I'd ever heard, echoed at a distance from the direction of this foreboding range of earthly folds, and at the sound of it I felt an overwhelming hopeless desperation, like some sudden fever, consume me for just a moment. It was as if some quick lightening burst of all the hate and desperation I've felt in my life, all these lingering fears and prophecies which destroy any trace of hope, shot through my entire being in the manner of a couple seconds; despite it's brief nature, I instantly felt the need to smash my skull into the ground repetitively until I could no longer think. It passed soon thereafter and I, shaken and fatigued, walked forward, trying my greatest to expel and ignore this strange intensity and animal fear spawned from those upbringings of stone and its distant screams. Soon enough I was able to disregard all that and focus on nature, as I intended.
This desert had proven itself in its surreal, haunting beauty as well as its darkness-- vast rolling dunes stretched for miles on end, immense mountain ranges of red and brown stone eroded into detailed, impeccable formations of glorious design far in the distance reduced me to a state of breathlessness; a new horizon seemed to of risen, laying waste to the self-alienation of before and completely disregarding that feverish despair which strangled me moments ago. A sense of adventure filled me with the knowledge that I could now follow whatever path I choose, I could go any such direction and know everywhere I go something is out there that I haven't discovered, something I haven't experienced. It was exhilarating, I hardly knew what to do with myself! I went skipping about in glee looking at everything with such an interest and love, such captivation in the things that I normally would ignore; the black and gray asphalt of lonely desert streets, the pulsating heat waves rising from burning sands, the exhausted and silent workers of the land, trying their greatest to retain a position in the brutal society I had detached from-- all of this I now saw with a new perception, one of ecstasy and euphoria from the idea of being so unrestricted, so free! My freedom had renewed hope within me, this sudden independence reignited my shrinking lust for life, it saved me from the suckling grips of depression and apathy. I had been regenerated with that significance which was void from my consciousness when I was lurking in the canals of civilization-- I loved it!
On the last day of my exile, upon the attainment of certain understandings, I drifted out into the unforgiving desert, compelled towards the distant mountains which had tempted and frightened me so. I had no supplies, no means of survival-- I didn't care about any of that anymore. I wanted experience, I wanted to feel the raw grasp of life, the bare, natural, primal self, even if it meant facing that fear which lay in the distance. These sensations of glorious life and eternal harmony propelled my body through the baking dunes, possessed by an unreal, incredible passion spawned from the pits of my actual humanity. As the mighty glowing Sun began its decent towards the western edge of the world I found myself surrounded by massive upbringings of age-old stone, shaped and formed over countless centuries into what it was before me. As I had arrived, all my fear dissipated into scattered fragments of true thoughts, leaving only that giddy, unexplainable curiosity which reminded me so much of childhood.
These canyons stood proudly through night and day, rain and drought, through the vast chronicles of the land's eternal history and beyond; I envied these stones. They called to me as I called back, we shared our lives in vivid detail-- every moment, every second and recollection, to all of it the rocks listened, for hours upon hours from my hysteric tongue, and in return they told me of their existence: it was silence, not a noise or signal, simply nothing as they were themselves, nothing. I pondered for a long time facing these stones, and then, as if uncontrolled and guided by some divine will, I wandered into the dark mystery of nothing-- to walk amongst the statues of the void, surrounded by the essence of emptiness! As I left the vast open dunes that faint screech echoed once more throughout the sands. At the sound of it, which seemed so nostalgic, I began to shudder. I didn't want to believe in the fear, but it was as if it were teasing me, reminding me through this distant call that it remained, lingering in the background, waiting for the best moment to strike. Despite all this, I continued forth.
I dug into towering complexes of mysterious canyon, hearing that distant screeching ringing through my ears, and eventually came across many obscure entryways about the stone into hidden caves placed sporadic throughout these canyon walls, honeycombing the crust of the earth. My curiosity, my sense of wild, feral adventure lured me and into twisting and winding caverns I dwelt, digging into the innards of the earth, the dank and black confines of Mother Nature's veins, searching for truth, or something, anything! If I were to die in here, I concluded, I would not be in complaint; this life, even with my renewed freedom, had brought me only restlessness and distraction, as that screeching proved to me, only depression in comparison with the Mind at Large, with the universal One, with the essence of these stones. I didn't mind a bit if some massive boulder were to crush my frail being against the skin of the earth, or perhaps if I were to get lost and slowly starve alone; if it were to happen, it was going to happen all along, for it was happening then.
You see, whomever may be reading, that this new-found freedom had revived what faith was sucked from my spirit during my marination in society. I left the city with the knowledge of the absence of meaning, however now, when I had finally cut the cord, meaning, that distant familiarity, returned to me. I was confident in the unity of the universe, I felt like no matter what things would be alright and natural, even if I were to die-- I had betrayed what sent me here, but I didn't care as long as it filled the void. Nothing seemed to matter at this point, nothing could phase me yet all I could do was love it, embrace it, for it is I and I am it. It all made sense to me now, as if some shroud I'd been underneath for decades finally was thrown aside, revealing a Kingdom, a utopia of the mind! With all these rapturous thoughts possessing my mind I continued my decent in what some would call a spiritual delirium, though I can only understand this now, after it all had happened.
The darkness of these humid caves began getting to me, putting my estranged human corpse into somewhat of a haze, yet I strove forth. Why? I can't answer that. I couldn't even stop myself at the point, I was frantic with glorious excitement on the brink of that final revaluation, embraced by the immaculate significance of this ancient rock surrounding me, letting it consume me and take my chaotic being into its ever-forgiving hands-- ah, my mother, my eternal, undying Mother Nature! I felt, I... feel... like a child nestled within his mother's breast. The cave walls around me begin to close in with a dark, ominous air. I can hear the breath of the rock vibrating off of it, never moving, never being, yet still illuminated with energy. What is that energy, I wonder, who does it belong to? It belongs to these stones, I remind myself, these ancient stones... I suddenly find that I can no longer feel anything, in particular, except for a indescribable euphoria and other-worldliness, as if I were watching my body from afar, observing helplessly and yet utterly captivated. My legs continue moving automatically, as do my arms and entire body-- I can't control myself anymore, I can only watch with a curious wonderment as to what will happen next.
The previously pitch blackness is now receding mechanically, an entire spectrum of deep purples and blues and greens form out of nowhere and encompass the stalagmites and damp cave walls with a highly profound presence. The rock formations themselves begin to crawl about, morphing with one another, multiplying, repeating, twisting into wild, abstract patterns and curves. The perspective of things has been mutilated now, depth and balance within this nightmarish tomb have been annihilated; distances have ceased to make any sense whatsoever. There no longer remains any rationality in my mind as all this is happening, but I feel as if it is real, as if this were meant to happen all along-- the climax of my quest. I feel as if I am transcending, I feel as if I am leaving my body, I feel as if I no longer have to bare this dreaded foreground, this blinding mask preventing me from viewing the entirety of things, because it is finally being removed from my consciousness.
This fills me with joy and a sense of peace, but still a question remains; why? Why is this happening to me now, of all times? Could it be this understanding, this enlightenment of mine, which is causing all of it? And then, as my distant physical manifestation continues to crawl down this surreal cavern, I notice that I am no longer breathing, that I haven't been for awhile, and gradually I realize how what I once took for my body crawling was actually something wicked, was actually the convulsions and agonizing struggle of someone in their death throes! I can't feel the blood rushing through my veins, nor can I measure any heart beat of my accord. I realize now that I am, in fact, dying. Suddenly all is explained, suddenly it all makes sense-- how foolish I was, how blind of the actuality of my existence!
And so it is on the eve of the last day of my pilgrimage that I, myself, son of my mother, my physical manifestation, had died. My body ceases to move and lies motionless on the cold stone beneath, suffocating, writhing in physical pain, however my mind, my essence, is elsewhere, void of comprehension, completely en-captivated with what I am suddenly experiencing.
I seem to no longer have placement, but rather I feel as if I existed within everything, as if I were experiencing everything at once, but I somehow retain focus of a particular sight. I now see before me a vast scape of gnarled stairways and ledges floating amongst blackened voids, each leading its own individual path and direction, repeating seemingly without end, ceaseless and infinite. A sensation of confusion overtakes me, and then anger-- fear-- love-- sadness-- and then, finally, I am completely void of emotion or sensation, and only thought remains. For a moment I have a chance to comprehend what I am observing, and a sudden realization strikes me as I stare docile at the endlessness stretched perpetually before me-- each and every path, despite their twisting and chaotic nature, all lead towards the same point! I don't understand how I know this so clearly, or even what its significance is, but I don't seem to care. It all makes sense now, all of it makes sense!
I find myself now walking along one of these stairways mindlessly, yet I find meaning in it, as if it was meant to happen without me knowing why. I don't know where I am walking, or if I am still I, but something inside of me knows I will be led to the point, the nexus of it, the central equilibrium of this immeasurable complex. I can't move my eyeballs, but in my peripherals I can vaguely perceive movement along the millions of other stairways all around me; enigmatic and mysterious shades, only seen as shadows, walk along each path as I walk now and I feel like they too are in my situation. They too are simply observing, watching with a suspended curiosity what is happening to our estranged consciousnesses. Are they human? Are they more than that? Questions rack my bizarre state as I try with enormous effort to formulate some sort of answer, but my mind refuses me the process of intelligent thought. I find that I can only observe and speculate, that the abilities to reason and comprehend have been stolen from me ruthlessly, without remorse.
Eons seem to pass as I mechanically walk along this stairway, expressionless and not fully part of myself, until, from far in the distance, a brilliant, divine and golden shine becomes apparent to my debauched senses. A sensation, entirely unfamiliar and incredible, comes to me now. It is one of very large, incomprehensible nature, but entirely natural and meant to be, again bringing that unmistakable feeling of nostalgia, perhaps even Deja Vu, into my fervent thoughts. Instantly thereafter the notion comes that what I am feeling currently is the entirely unique indication of existential transformation, something which happens upon birth, and again upon death. Something very significant is about to happen, but I'm ready though, I'm finally ready for what is awaiting me on the other side. The glow becomes more and more potent by the minute, and suddenly I am drenched in it, soaked in its beatific glory. Glorious rapture! Celestial all-mighty, supreme spirit! Oh Universe, take me in thy arms and love me!
I am no longer part of my body as it is disintegrated by the light-- I watch it divide and reduce until it is no more, yet still I remain thinking, conscious somehow. A dizzying feeling overcomes what remains of my consciousness as depth is stretched to unbelievable lengths in all directions. I am reminiscent to a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon, blind and virgin to the new world presented and the new form in which it inhabits. I am overjoyed with this for it is finally happening, what I had dreampt of and prophesied and obsessed over, I am finally becoming One with the universe and everything! It must be, for what else could explain all this? The essence of the light surrounding me blinds my vision, despite me not having eyeballs anymore, and I am shown a innumerable cascade of colors-- every possible hue is radiating before me in fluid design, to the most incomprehensible detail. Only figments of my thoughts and sensations remain to feel the godly bliss brought on by all this.
Things seemed to be progressing towards a blissful transition, a peaceful passage into the afterlife, and then occurred a cataclysm. O evil and repulsive, infernal hell! That maddening, inhuman screech suddenly pierces my hearing with the abrupt essence of cracking ice; this sound is the most abhorrent, the most vile and wicked and fiendish of anything I've ever heard, and along with it comes all the hopelessness, the desperation, and the hatred, the utter hatred, of my life! At that very moment everything that is horrible and twisted about my life, this world, this situation and this mind, pierced into the very core of my being; at that very moment, that moment of rebirth, that moment of death, I finally confronted that lingering darkness. Tidal waves of stinging, boiling pain and horror twist my transitioning spirit into madness! Terrible, hysteric torture comes from this noise and as it echos eternally across the realm my perception, at one point beautiful and blessed with color and verging on the brink of transcendence, all at once is compressed into a spec of nothing and ceases to exist.
The screeching is no more, for now I do not hear sound or feel vibration. All my senses seem to of been severed, yet still I remain thinking. Utter emptiness surrounds me indefinably. Unknowing of what to do next, I wait. I expect something to happen, something to continue this divine process and finish my transcendence, yet nothing comes. I wait for centuries, for millennium upon millennium, but still nothing comes. My mind races with thousands of questions, and billions of answers, but the truth escapes it. That screech... Had I hear it before? Overwhelming sensations of horror and fear and loathing and madness and regret and pain and anger all simultaneously writhe my dissociated mind into some mutated, unreal frenzy. I try to cry out in agony and despair, but no voice follows my will; no body or physical matter reacts to my convulsions; no eyes shed my tears.
I have been in this emptiness for an eternity now, and do I accept it as death? Perhaps... perhaps my physical life did end that night, all that time ago, within the womb of the Earth. Is this what I wanted, what I fantasized about in dreams and imagination? Could this possibly be death? What a torture-- what a pathetic martyrdom! All this time I expected I would escape it all and become a part of everything in perfect harmony, as if death itself were the universe manifest-- O how little did I see that I was part of everything in perfect harmony in life, that my existence, despite all its hells and tortures, was already experiencing the transcendence I blindly was searching for. I am, or rather I was, the universe manifest, all I needed to do was believe it. My human brain created the beauty of the physical world I lived and I wasted it, ruined it with my foolish, youthful idealism, my innocent excitement, my intimate obsession over solely my own existence, over myself. I thought in death I would become everything, but now I realize with solemn accuracy that I have become nothing... nothing, like the rocks which witnessed my death-- nothing, like the sands of desert dunes rolling above-- nothing, except for myself.
I Am No More!
I AM NO MORE.
Three days ago I started walking, and now I am still-- without direction or purpose, I am simply traveling whatever path I fall upon... Though, in a sense, it is now only through the paths of memory. There were reasons, I suppose, as there is for anything else when humans are involved, and it seems natural to begin this soliloquy with those rather than raving my madness into this immediatly. You see, at one point or another in my life I had finally become far too disassociated with society, with the countless other humans surrounding me, that I came to the conclusion of impulsively taking that divine step; the severing of the umbilical cord, as I call it; the separation from the collective I made manifest. It was not an action entirely of my own accord, in a sense, but it was as if uncontrolled, a thing which had to be done if not for my own sanity, for the sanctity of others. I mean this in a most literal way.
My mind is a cesspool of complex, interlocking streams of emotion and thought, intertwining with each other in immaculate formation, taken breathlessly by the potent significance of everything and anything in existence, yet at the same time reveling in the ultimate insignificance of everything and anything. A ridiculous concept, I understand now of course, but through it I found myself walking about in a trance, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the society I lived within simply because I couldn't bring myself to care, and not even caring that I was being so ridiculous by not caring. And what happens to a member of society that ceases to abide by it? This realization, you must understand, is one of powerful influence and through it I disfigured, mutilated, and cast aside any sense of objective morality or even existence of other minds, of glorious revelation, of the ability to know, of the existence of knowledge, of anything to my impersonal and introverted universe.
Of course, with an idea such as this consuming your thoughts and being in total, one cannot continue to coexist in a community of devout believers of meaning, when within me there was no meaning whatsoever. Relationships and social affairs were muddled in the whirlwind of my desolation, deformed into obscurity, made confusing not for myself, but for those whom had attached to me in my struggling years of civilized life. While I was only affected by the ill-logic of it all, these people --my friends and family and acquaintances-- would translate my obscurity into personal, emotional dramas. What I understood as an estrangement from the world, they took for an estrangement from myself. Due to this estrangement I would refuse to communicate with anybody not out of malice, but simply from a hopelessness in making them understand which took hold, gripping with vicious hatred, cutting off circulation. I was wandering a maze with no exit, I knew this, and through this I knew that I couldn't keep up this sick facade, this foolish pipe dream, any longer. I either saw a radical change of lifestyle as necessary, or to the noose I should find my only salvation. I decided then that I'd be better off on my own.
I began my walk with nothing save for a satchel of provisions, thus including the journal I'm writing this in, a pen, some water, and a bag of rice. Not much at all, but I wasn't concerned with preparation-- it was an act of rash impulse spawned from the bottom of desperation, an escape from the society in which I am alien. I abandoned all those I knew, all those who loved and believed in me, without even the slightest indication of farewell or sympathy; I left all those who had made my life their concern without any concern of my own... no matter! What truly matters save for what resides within the cavity of my skull anyway? I was acting off of a suicidal hysteria, but I felt no fear behind death-- I embraced it. I craved it as an escape, as something I could rely on, an option ever-present despite all what may happen. With this to fall back on, I saw no reason not to do whatever I wanted to do.
So three days then had I been walking aimlessly, experiencing life in its most unbiased form, in the supreme comfort of my solitude. Alone, detached, free from identity! Anonymous now, I could watch, and analyze, unbiased of the second-hand knowledge fed to me before. On the first day I wandered the streets of the city of my birth and tried my best, however vainly, to comprehend the lives of those inhabiting this urban cluster, yet what I saw brought my unstable mind to cringing depression. Filth-- wasted lives rotting in suburban boxes, wasted potential rotting in corporate towers. Unknowing symbols of their own destruction, they are the suppression of their own race incarnate, sprawled out before me like a testament of all my fears. An industrial gully-hole ravaged to grime, slowly mutating those masked and naked in the city's womb.
I must admit I had hope in the beginning. I thought that perhaps it was simply the particular community, simply the culture I lived within, the culture which I belonged to, that disgusted me. I thought that perhaps life abound is equal with my standards; maybe out there, wherever that may be, people operate in ways bearable for me. The potential of the human being, the inner spirit, I had confidence within. Besides, I thought, there must be others like me! I still, of course, had doubts lingering deep within the most realistic of logic my mind created, but I saw it as an excuse to get out there into the world and, regardless as to whether or not my hopes are realized, I'll have at least experienced something rather than succumbing to the noose from sheer hopelessness... Or rather I'll have at least experienced something before succumbing to the noose-- that swaying, inevitable noose waiting patiently for me...
I've learned that to know things, to possess real truths and convictions, one must experience them for themselves, first-hand, without fear or concern for the future. The system humans have created steals the rapture of pure experience from those unfortunate majority born within, and this is why I detest our modern lifestyle to such a venomous degree. You see, I've connected this modernization of the world with the defect of most human beings who live within it; we have fallen victim to the severe manipulation of technology, principles and values, of over-abundance, and our very own emotional appeals, enacted by a greedy, sinful higher class which, despite its terrible error, remains confident that their actions benefit rather than destroy people's lives. This damned society of ours, with its endless guidelines, behavior norms, objective thinking, and enormous influence, molds a sinister mask over the naturally beautiful face of the human being, severing the individual's true, actual lust for life which he or she is meant-- the killing of our passions and the abduction of our daring, our will, to fight back.
It tames us and preaches morals which raise a wall between thought and action, between desire and attainment, and those born wherein are raised only knowing this wall alone, not knowing of the glorious potential which lies beyond and, at most, only having a faint, nearly transparent mirage of what might exist out there. We human beings are suppressed by our own creation, that being civilization, and, despite the warnings of those few who can focus on that mirage, we fail to comprehend how exactly we are subtly devolving, becoming less and less the resilient and creative species we began as and more akin to a snail hiding in its shell. When, for whatever reason, the shell is removed the snail is frail, weak, and unaccustomed to the true world around it, at this point preferring its shell from a simple, animal fear of the unknown. Today's human plays the same role, the shell being our carefully constructed society, government, and civilization, and the snail being us.
I came to these conclusions through frantic observations made from within that shell, and once I had fully come to understand it, I hated it. It disgusted me, it sent me into whirling depressions spawned from the knowledge of our disease, from the potential in each and every one of us that this disease shrinks and hides, and from the fruitlessness of anything I could do about it! I had to leave, I had to abandon those who loved and cared for me simply because I could not love and care for them back anymore-- I couldn't bare their love, for love is real to everybody, even me. I knew that there was only one thing that I could truly love and feel at home within, and that was nature. The wild, untainted earth which birthed our race called to me. I could feel it beckoning my yearning soul and I followed. In nature I could be like a child, I could see myself as clear as a mirror, and now (could I really say the word 'now'?) I see that is all I really wanted: myself.
It was two days ago now that I left the urban cesspool of my upbringing. Without destination, I started walking north and eventually came upon great, enigmatic deserts stretching for miles on end, baking in the sun's burning, golden rays which cut through the cloudless sky like slivers of divine light. Upbringings of stone stood far into the distance, maintaining the appearance of a liquid from the translucent heat rays which rose from burning sands-- peeking over the horizon, these far-off mountains seemed to be beckoning me, luring my curious soul into their raw, desolate grasp. I felt as if destined towards these ancient Stone Gods, yet at the same time I shuddered when I thought of their empty canyons of silence, miles away from anybody and everybody, holding secrets deep within blackened caverns which I could only fail to comprehend.
And then, at the peak of my obscure fear, a faint, piercing screech, unlike anything I'd ever heard, echoed at a distance from the direction of this foreboding range of earthly folds, and at the sound of it I felt an overwhelming hopeless desperation, like some sudden fever, consume me for just a moment. It was as if some quick lightening burst of all the hate and desperation I've felt in my life, all these lingering fears and prophecies which destroy any trace of hope, shot through my entire being in the manner of a couple seconds; despite it's brief nature, I instantly felt the need to smash my skull into the ground repetitively until I could no longer think. It passed soon thereafter and I, shaken and fatigued, walked forward, trying my greatest to expel and ignore this strange intensity and animal fear spawned from those upbringings of stone and its distant screams. Soon enough I was able to disregard all that and focus on nature, as I intended.
This desert had proven itself in its surreal, haunting beauty as well as its darkness-- vast rolling dunes stretched for miles on end, immense mountain ranges of red and brown stone eroded into detailed, impeccable formations of glorious design far in the distance reduced me to a state of breathlessness; a new horizon seemed to of risen, laying waste to the self-alienation of before and completely disregarding that feverish despair which strangled me moments ago. A sense of adventure filled me with the knowledge that I could now follow whatever path I choose, I could go any such direction and know everywhere I go something is out there that I haven't discovered, something I haven't experienced. It was exhilarating, I hardly knew what to do with myself! I went skipping about in glee looking at everything with such an interest and love, such captivation in the things that I normally would ignore; the black and gray asphalt of lonely desert streets, the pulsating heat waves rising from burning sands, the exhausted and silent workers of the land, trying their greatest to retain a position in the brutal society I had detached from-- all of this I now saw with a new perception, one of ecstasy and euphoria from the idea of being so unrestricted, so free! My freedom had renewed hope within me, this sudden independence reignited my shrinking lust for life, it saved me from the suckling grips of depression and apathy. I had been regenerated with that significance which was void from my consciousness when I was lurking in the canals of civilization-- I loved it!
On the last day of my exile, upon the attainment of certain understandings, I drifted out into the unforgiving desert, compelled towards the distant mountains which had tempted and frightened me so. I had no supplies, no means of survival-- I didn't care about any of that anymore. I wanted experience, I wanted to feel the raw grasp of life, the bare, natural, primal self, even if it meant facing that fear which lay in the distance. These sensations of glorious life and eternal harmony propelled my body through the baking dunes, possessed by an unreal, incredible passion spawned from the pits of my actual humanity. As the mighty glowing Sun began its decent towards the western edge of the world I found myself surrounded by massive upbringings of age-old stone, shaped and formed over countless centuries into what it was before me. As I had arrived, all my fear dissipated into scattered fragments of true thoughts, leaving only that giddy, unexplainable curiosity which reminded me so much of childhood.
These canyons stood proudly through night and day, rain and drought, through the vast chronicles of the land's eternal history and beyond; I envied these stones. They called to me as I called back, we shared our lives in vivid detail-- every moment, every second and recollection, to all of it the rocks listened, for hours upon hours from my hysteric tongue, and in return they told me of their existence: it was silence, not a noise or signal, simply nothing as they were themselves, nothing. I pondered for a long time facing these stones, and then, as if uncontrolled and guided by some divine will, I wandered into the dark mystery of nothing-- to walk amongst the statues of the void, surrounded by the essence of emptiness! As I left the vast open dunes that faint screech echoed once more throughout the sands. At the sound of it, which seemed so nostalgic, I began to shudder. I didn't want to believe in the fear, but it was as if it were teasing me, reminding me through this distant call that it remained, lingering in the background, waiting for the best moment to strike. Despite all this, I continued forth.
I dug into towering complexes of mysterious canyon, hearing that distant screeching ringing through my ears, and eventually came across many obscure entryways about the stone into hidden caves placed sporadic throughout these canyon walls, honeycombing the crust of the earth. My curiosity, my sense of wild, feral adventure lured me and into twisting and winding caverns I dwelt, digging into the innards of the earth, the dank and black confines of Mother Nature's veins, searching for truth, or something, anything! If I were to die in here, I concluded, I would not be in complaint; this life, even with my renewed freedom, had brought me only restlessness and distraction, as that screeching proved to me, only depression in comparison with the Mind at Large, with the universal One, with the essence of these stones. I didn't mind a bit if some massive boulder were to crush my frail being against the skin of the earth, or perhaps if I were to get lost and slowly starve alone; if it were to happen, it was going to happen all along, for it was happening then.
You see, whomever may be reading, that this new-found freedom had revived what faith was sucked from my spirit during my marination in society. I left the city with the knowledge of the absence of meaning, however now, when I had finally cut the cord, meaning, that distant familiarity, returned to me. I was confident in the unity of the universe, I felt like no matter what things would be alright and natural, even if I were to die-- I had betrayed what sent me here, but I didn't care as long as it filled the void. Nothing seemed to matter at this point, nothing could phase me yet all I could do was love it, embrace it, for it is I and I am it. It all made sense to me now, as if some shroud I'd been underneath for decades finally was thrown aside, revealing a Kingdom, a utopia of the mind! With all these rapturous thoughts possessing my mind I continued my decent in what some would call a spiritual delirium, though I can only understand this now, after it all had happened.
The darkness of these humid caves began getting to me, putting my estranged human corpse into somewhat of a haze, yet I strove forth. Why? I can't answer that. I couldn't even stop myself at the point, I was frantic with glorious excitement on the brink of that final revaluation, embraced by the immaculate significance of this ancient rock surrounding me, letting it consume me and take my chaotic being into its ever-forgiving hands-- ah, my mother, my eternal, undying Mother Nature! I felt, I... feel... like a child nestled within his mother's breast. The cave walls around me begin to close in with a dark, ominous air. I can hear the breath of the rock vibrating off of it, never moving, never being, yet still illuminated with energy. What is that energy, I wonder, who does it belong to? It belongs to these stones, I remind myself, these ancient stones... I suddenly find that I can no longer feel anything, in particular, except for a indescribable euphoria and other-worldliness, as if I were watching my body from afar, observing helplessly and yet utterly captivated. My legs continue moving automatically, as do my arms and entire body-- I can't control myself anymore, I can only watch with a curious wonderment as to what will happen next.
The previously pitch blackness is now receding mechanically, an entire spectrum of deep purples and blues and greens form out of nowhere and encompass the stalagmites and damp cave walls with a highly profound presence. The rock formations themselves begin to crawl about, morphing with one another, multiplying, repeating, twisting into wild, abstract patterns and curves. The perspective of things has been mutilated now, depth and balance within this nightmarish tomb have been annihilated; distances have ceased to make any sense whatsoever. There no longer remains any rationality in my mind as all this is happening, but I feel as if it is real, as if this were meant to happen all along-- the climax of my quest. I feel as if I am transcending, I feel as if I am leaving my body, I feel as if I no longer have to bare this dreaded foreground, this blinding mask preventing me from viewing the entirety of things, because it is finally being removed from my consciousness.
This fills me with joy and a sense of peace, but still a question remains; why? Why is this happening to me now, of all times? Could it be this understanding, this enlightenment of mine, which is causing all of it? And then, as my distant physical manifestation continues to crawl down this surreal cavern, I notice that I am no longer breathing, that I haven't been for awhile, and gradually I realize how what I once took for my body crawling was actually something wicked, was actually the convulsions and agonizing struggle of someone in their death throes! I can't feel the blood rushing through my veins, nor can I measure any heart beat of my accord. I realize now that I am, in fact, dying. Suddenly all is explained, suddenly it all makes sense-- how foolish I was, how blind of the actuality of my existence!
And so it is on the eve of the last day of my pilgrimage that I, myself, son of my mother, my physical manifestation, had died. My body ceases to move and lies motionless on the cold stone beneath, suffocating, writhing in physical pain, however my mind, my essence, is elsewhere, void of comprehension, completely en-captivated with what I am suddenly experiencing.
I seem to no longer have placement, but rather I feel as if I existed within everything, as if I were experiencing everything at once, but I somehow retain focus of a particular sight. I now see before me a vast scape of gnarled stairways and ledges floating amongst blackened voids, each leading its own individual path and direction, repeating seemingly without end, ceaseless and infinite. A sensation of confusion overtakes me, and then anger-- fear-- love-- sadness-- and then, finally, I am completely void of emotion or sensation, and only thought remains. For a moment I have a chance to comprehend what I am observing, and a sudden realization strikes me as I stare docile at the endlessness stretched perpetually before me-- each and every path, despite their twisting and chaotic nature, all lead towards the same point! I don't understand how I know this so clearly, or even what its significance is, but I don't seem to care. It all makes sense now, all of it makes sense!
I find myself now walking along one of these stairways mindlessly, yet I find meaning in it, as if it was meant to happen without me knowing why. I don't know where I am walking, or if I am still I, but something inside of me knows I will be led to the point, the nexus of it, the central equilibrium of this immeasurable complex. I can't move my eyeballs, but in my peripherals I can vaguely perceive movement along the millions of other stairways all around me; enigmatic and mysterious shades, only seen as shadows, walk along each path as I walk now and I feel like they too are in my situation. They too are simply observing, watching with a suspended curiosity what is happening to our estranged consciousnesses. Are they human? Are they more than that? Questions rack my bizarre state as I try with enormous effort to formulate some sort of answer, but my mind refuses me the process of intelligent thought. I find that I can only observe and speculate, that the abilities to reason and comprehend have been stolen from me ruthlessly, without remorse.
Eons seem to pass as I mechanically walk along this stairway, expressionless and not fully part of myself, until, from far in the distance, a brilliant, divine and golden shine becomes apparent to my debauched senses. A sensation, entirely unfamiliar and incredible, comes to me now. It is one of very large, incomprehensible nature, but entirely natural and meant to be, again bringing that unmistakable feeling of nostalgia, perhaps even Deja Vu, into my fervent thoughts. Instantly thereafter the notion comes that what I am feeling currently is the entirely unique indication of existential transformation, something which happens upon birth, and again upon death. Something very significant is about to happen, but I'm ready though, I'm finally ready for what is awaiting me on the other side. The glow becomes more and more potent by the minute, and suddenly I am drenched in it, soaked in its beatific glory. Glorious rapture! Celestial all-mighty, supreme spirit! Oh Universe, take me in thy arms and love me!
I am no longer part of my body as it is disintegrated by the light-- I watch it divide and reduce until it is no more, yet still I remain thinking, conscious somehow. A dizzying feeling overcomes what remains of my consciousness as depth is stretched to unbelievable lengths in all directions. I am reminiscent to a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon, blind and virgin to the new world presented and the new form in which it inhabits. I am overjoyed with this for it is finally happening, what I had dreampt of and prophesied and obsessed over, I am finally becoming One with the universe and everything! It must be, for what else could explain all this? The essence of the light surrounding me blinds my vision, despite me not having eyeballs anymore, and I am shown a innumerable cascade of colors-- every possible hue is radiating before me in fluid design, to the most incomprehensible detail. Only figments of my thoughts and sensations remain to feel the godly bliss brought on by all this.
Things seemed to be progressing towards a blissful transition, a peaceful passage into the afterlife, and then occurred a cataclysm. O evil and repulsive, infernal hell! That maddening, inhuman screech suddenly pierces my hearing with the abrupt essence of cracking ice; this sound is the most abhorrent, the most vile and wicked and fiendish of anything I've ever heard, and along with it comes all the hopelessness, the desperation, and the hatred, the utter hatred, of my life! At that very moment everything that is horrible and twisted about my life, this world, this situation and this mind, pierced into the very core of my being; at that very moment, that moment of rebirth, that moment of death, I finally confronted that lingering darkness. Tidal waves of stinging, boiling pain and horror twist my transitioning spirit into madness! Terrible, hysteric torture comes from this noise and as it echos eternally across the realm my perception, at one point beautiful and blessed with color and verging on the brink of transcendence, all at once is compressed into a spec of nothing and ceases to exist.
The screeching is no more, for now I do not hear sound or feel vibration. All my senses seem to of been severed, yet still I remain thinking. Utter emptiness surrounds me indefinably. Unknowing of what to do next, I wait. I expect something to happen, something to continue this divine process and finish my transcendence, yet nothing comes. I wait for centuries, for millennium upon millennium, but still nothing comes. My mind races with thousands of questions, and billions of answers, but the truth escapes it. That screech... Had I hear it before? Overwhelming sensations of horror and fear and loathing and madness and regret and pain and anger all simultaneously writhe my dissociated mind into some mutated, unreal frenzy. I try to cry out in agony and despair, but no voice follows my will; no body or physical matter reacts to my convulsions; no eyes shed my tears.
I have been in this emptiness for an eternity now, and do I accept it as death? Perhaps... perhaps my physical life did end that night, all that time ago, within the womb of the Earth. Is this what I wanted, what I fantasized about in dreams and imagination? Could this possibly be death? What a torture-- what a pathetic martyrdom! All this time I expected I would escape it all and become a part of everything in perfect harmony, as if death itself were the universe manifest-- O how little did I see that I was part of everything in perfect harmony in life, that my existence, despite all its hells and tortures, was already experiencing the transcendence I blindly was searching for. I am, or rather I was, the universe manifest, all I needed to do was believe it. My human brain created the beauty of the physical world I lived and I wasted it, ruined it with my foolish, youthful idealism, my innocent excitement, my intimate obsession over solely my own existence, over myself. I thought in death I would become everything, but now I realize with solemn accuracy that I have become nothing... nothing, like the rocks which witnessed my death-- nothing, like the sands of desert dunes rolling above-- nothing, except for myself.
I Am No More!