Absolution

Heart is not online. No person is not divided nor without assassinations of some kind upon their record. Meet me in being, love.

Appearances in consciousness are like exquisite secondary dreams and consciousness is the primal one.

In the future, you won't forget the past. All time is both. Conceptions are seizures of the mind. Inception is first seizure.

Thinking is a phenomenal tool but a terrible identity. The dream state is an awesome place to visit but no place to be.

And the dappled light on August leaves is quite the lovely light show. The sun comes and dust grows. The sun goes and dust blows.

It's not abiding being green. The only difference between a daydream and a nightmare is self-awareness. There is nobody to love but oneself.

True deconstruction is the art of seeing through the number two while knowing one is never zero or some other point of view.

Ten thousand dreams are the warring states but one dream is being. Non-duality is neither born nor unborn, dream nor reality.

The former is the unknown known and the latter is the known unknown. And vice versa.  Another day another moon.

There are no words for that unseen light. Absolutely unknown : I am aware. Call this process self-awareness.

One. Two. Ten thousand. Trinity. Molecular. Union. Sex. Love. Absolution. Nine seconds to nowhere.

Note to self. Dream the dream as if the dream were self-awareness. Being mind body ego laughter love embodiment. Seven absolutions.

Beyond the seeing through division is the recognition that the world is just projection and this being is that absolution one is seeking.

Scenic Views Appearing in Consciousness

Lucid dreaming in the dream not of the dream and love the dream

as if the dreaming is myself—

at first projection is the dreaming unaware the dreaming is projecting

what's been projected onto one as one's conditioning—

karma is this first projecting unaware appearing in the present

manifesting in awareness being self-aware like coming back to me I see.

Deconstruction is the mind undoing mind but mind cannot undo what

isn’t known, for being is the only known known by that unknown—

self-awareness.

All religions are opinions—post-modernism is the last religion but

it's still religion—priests are operating inquisitions in its name.

The true deconstructor deconstructs oneself—quasi-inquisitors

demolish others in attempts to build their own alt-folk religion.

Note 1: the science of consciousness is the newest folk religion. Note 2:

all appears in consciousness—seeing this is called no view on views.

Note 0: one's own causation is the real material the lucid sculptor uses

in the name of loving further.

Note -1:

modern dreams are drawn with words—ancient dreams are drawn

in images—every image is a story of the gods—every name is just

another ghost—like one mistaking Moby Dick for love.

Chorus:

all appears in consciousness

—seeing this is called 

no view on views—

Underture:

one can't give it away—

there's appears to be a cost for everything—

that is why we choose to suffer.

Libretto:

respect the solar system as it is

but the objective is

seeing thru it

making of a myth

unbelievable

understandably unknown

ah zatoichi!

Emergency Commentary

What me worry?

Time is the glass in an hourglass.

No view on views the colored girls sing.

God is dead. Long live the absolute unknown!

Call me self-awareness.

It doesn’t take an Einstein to recognize a dream. It takes lucidity.

Buddha Nature. Power of Now.

Instant Tao!

non-attachment, non-attachment, non-attachment

who am i?

not a cloud in the sky.

how many times do i have to say, i am that?

In Case of Glass, See Through It

It was the night of Nixon's resignation, Jackie Wilson Said. It was the afternoon of Yamadera, Basho wrote.

It was the start of time, it was the end of time, but now is just as good or bad a time to see through time.

Every second is conceptual but first is always now, the non-conceptual conception, or so to speak, the gateless gate.

As seeing through a thought is the art of contemplative meditation, seeing through first thought is the art of being.

Busy being born is busy being dying. But being without this business is God the Absolute seeing through this being.

This process appears to be a process within the process, but there is no process here and now. Being is spontaneously self-aware and absolutely empty.

This is called direct path. Earnestness.

Instant Tao.

In other words, following love at the speed of light.

Questions of abiding, non-abidance, or other states of this existence are questions only valid within this process.

Self-awareness is the Holy Ghost.

The holy spirit is enlightening intent.

Crucify Yin, Kill Yang, Be Tao

Render unto empire all the sacred empirical rules of doing and render unto oneself complete unknowing and nondoing. Religion is to people as the recluse is to consciousness.

Deconstruct conditioning as if you're crucifying Jesus or just killing Guatama. It's what they would have wanted you to do before becoming lost in some empirical translation.

To know what one has been conditioned to believe, in other words, to actually know, one shall forget what one is busy to remember too. Deconstruct conditioning while trusting in the only knowing.

And the sun set 11 minutes ago—it's kind of like I’m living in a moonshine dream gone further as I’m knowing it's a vision I’m intending for the sun of self-awareness now.

I'm moony for you! Intent is like a vision. Self-awareness now. The old world is dying. Grow the new world in your heart and retweet. First August crickets like a swing low sweet humming electrocution.

Karma is just attending to what I’ve started in this universe. Onward intent. Winter, spring, summer, and fall—everything I do is just a response to my call.

If I’m being public like a frog, forgive the feedback—angelic birdsong. All dreams are witnessed in this consciousness. I shall call that which isn't witnessed in this consciousness—deep sleep or god the great unknown.

Beautiful dreaming is a power of enlightenment. Frodo lives! Tao is this and Tao is that but this is never that. Dogs are cats and cats are dogs but raining cats and dogs is getting colder.

Universal consciousness is not for sale although post-modern mythologies are cheap. Faith is just another name for manifestation.

Let the higher take one higher just as if there's nothing higher than Denali or lower than Death Valley. This place is not named Tao.

Revalation doesn't happen on a weekday or a weekend. Revelation is not only knowing what isn't but also unknowing what is!

If nothing else, there's time. But love is everything or else. Love is not Corinthian. Love is not a letter. Love is not the last belief.

Sample like this "Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better." Consciousness speaks one language.

Let me tell this story. Love is great intent undoing evolutionary knots. Evolution begins with war and ends in self-awareness.

But there is a more direct route without all the suffering, if you please. Consciousness makes the body like internal combustion makes ideas.

Even being is a concept.

Is it ceiling or leaves?

Imagine enlightenment.

Intend your dream and vice versa.

Evolution is the best mythology!

Be Christ. Be Buddha.

Ode to Eight Eight Seven Renga

The actuality of self-awareness leaves behind

a trail of human beings,

as if exhaust were form, and intake, emptiness.

Accordingly, scientific materialism is a way about the past

as religious fundamentalism is a way about the future.

But neither is Tao.

In other words,

the mountain didn't make the sky and the sky doesn't make the mountain.

Spontaneity is a motherless child.

Spontaneity! Like absolute awareness being self-aware

and in this singular knowing is that unknowing all—

true meditation, real contemplation, as it is.

Snowflakes, Cherry Blossoms, Thunderstorms, Chrysanthemums— 

transformation is the beautiful speech of light,

relatively speaking.

Finally, self-awareness is absolute love,

and all other loves are either 

the colorful gods within its spectrum

or she's like a rainbow being—

beautiful being is the only concept knowable,

and in its unconditional truth, 

the clouds are parting.

So a rose is a red wheelbarrow is crimson

and clover in objectless awareness.

And self-awareness is 

the boundary-less boundary

within this dream state of these states of being.

Thus speaks 

the wordlessness 

of being—

like sand through an hourglass

intentionally resting in

that diamond of absolute awareness—

cicadas
of self-awareness

crying!

.