Art like this tries to transmute depressive emotions into awe:
While I can still write, I will use the time to remind humans of the first noble truth – the truth of suffering or base unsatisfactoriness of existence.
If you believe that the word “suffering” doesn’t point to the most crucial aspect of existence, then you and I don’t get along.
Suffering is the most real thing and it should not exist in actuality, in anticipation, or in memory.
The fact that it exists refutes the benevolence of existence. Since existence can’t be forgiven for its intrinsic insult, the state of being must be revoked.
Unfortunately, it seems that what humans call “death” doesn’t lead to cessation. If brains were ontological units, fundamentally closed and omnipresent like integers, then the conversation would be very different. But brains are entropic objects. They change, and can be split and recombined.
The brain is therefore probably not equivalent to the soul/consciousness. Consciousness is primary and from it are constructed material worlds.
Besides all my personal transformative observations of the signs, the phenomenon of synchronicity also seems to be a point in favor of mind before matter. Wallace and Darwin, Newton and Leibniz… the events in existence simply aren’t random. It’s not about taking my word for it or that of McKenna. We can believe the evidence once it happens to us in such a way that it becomes personally irrefutable.
I hypothesize that existence is of a dual nature, one side that is reproducible and one side that is not. Much of the synchronicity phenomena seems to belong to the unreproducible side of existence. Schizophrenia and psychedelics may be ways of gaining this hidden knowledge that cannot then be easily translated to the world of matter and money and sports and “history.” By its very nature the “down to Earth” world contains mostly reproducible phenomena which serve to constrain the intrinsic freedom of the mind. Dream walkers who can successfully communicate the message from beyond to the worldly are the chosen ones.
I was in the presence of someone with schizophrenia, a young man named Bobby, and I must admit that he intimidated me with his superior intelligence to the point of leaving me speechless. He understood me and even seemed to have brought me there with him through the power of his own thought. For a day I even confused him with Jesus; I was just waiting for him to say it. With his deep knowledge of me and of the world in few words, I would have believed him. Yet his speech was nonsensical and perhaps even unintelligible to the common man. Because I am caught somewhere between that world and this one, I could understand his brilliance.
We both understood synchronicity, the self-fulfilling nature of mind, and the fabrication of worlds through language.
I asked him why he didn’t let others know.
With a kind of deep wisdom in his eyes and perfect simplicity, he said “I can’t.”
He understood that it was not him who could bridge the worlds but that it was me.