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Do you want fact or fiction? Should I first, perhaps, try and distinguish between the two, because more often than not, I can’t. Some will tell us with extreme certainty that this world that we see, or rather, perceive, is merely an illusion. It is common fact that man only uses a minute percentage of his brain. Aldous Huxley once stated that man was a being capable of enormous perception and could at greatest capacity, perceive all happening in the universe. He went on to state that the prime function of man’s central nervous system was to actually block out these perceptions deemed ‘unnecessary’ to survival, so that man wasn’t in a constant state of schizophrenia. That is what, in mine and many others’ opinions of the madness is, an overpowering awareness. The problem is that the average human mind, further dulled by an anti-perceptive society, often cannot handle a sudden influx of cosmic sight. It was said that to hear the voice of god would drive one to madness or death. Joan of Arc is a fine example of just this. It was at this horrible point that I knew that he was I, because in a second, a pulse-stopping second, I saw it. I saw it through his eyes. The vast hordes of lizards being spawned from the soul-pits. They would carry the carcasses of battle-beaten warriors to these pits. The blood of the defeated would drip down the brimstone cavern walls. Hordes upon hordes of lizard men. At my beck. At my wanting. At my call. Whenever I summoned. Mine. That was all that selfish bastard wanted; he wanted it to be his and his alone.
Fact or fiction, what do you want, dear reader? Do you have a firm grasp on these two words in all possible definitions? Is your definition of what is fact something that can be proved by science or logic? Something of solidity and concrete? It is interesting to think that all objects are not really solid at all. They are merely molecules bouncing off one another; vibrating waves of light registered to our eyes which we give what ever label the present society sees fit. It is interesting to think that all things are comprised of a great deal of ‘space’. But what is in that space? Wise man of many indigenous cultures claimed that they could travel into this space as well as their own. They would go there to seek out answers and universal truths. To be connected to the all of things.
‘Power of flight and power of earth, joined together with the power of fire: this I must forever remember.’ This chant brought my blind guide to me almost instantly. He was shorter than I remembered. He grabbed ahold of me, telling me he would take me there. We went through the forest. We then stopped as I saw a rainbow serpent’s tail tear trough the clouds, opening the sky. Colored umbrellas descended down, acting as a lift. We climbed up through a portal that resembled a lava lamp. When we surfaced, we walked across a bubbly surface. On the other side, I saw a fat, sluggish-looking caterpillar lounging on a stained-glass floor. He introduced himself as God. I laughed at him, stating I did not believe his words. He then challenged me, asking why he couldn’t be God, stating it was all based on my perception. He went on to state that these entities of ‘perception’ and ‘free will’ were his gifts to mankind. He proceeded to take us through another haole in the sky. When we came through, I watched in awe as he transformed himself into a grand and magnificent butterfly. A fine monarch, indeed! He then invited me to feel my own power, stating that I was ‘transforming’ as he did. He let me bask in his warmth as the colors from his wings covered the arena of space in time. He said to me, “ I have a thousand faces and a million eyes. Spanning countless galaxies, I am inconceivable in greatness. I am inside each and every living thing.”
He showed me how small and at the same time, how vast I really was. Universes in universes. He showed me how he was all encompassing, stretching across the heavens, covering all galaxies he made. He then shrank to the size of an actual butterfly and flew into my hand. He told me of the beauty of creation, that he was imprinted deep in the genetic structure of every living being. He resided in the space.
To see God is a beautiful thing if you are ready to do it. I wake up with the hopes of going back to this point at some time, but rather in a state of physical godliness; enlightenment. I feel tired as of late, though, worn and disconnected. As much as I have learned and experienced about the true nature of reality and spirit, I still fall into trappings and vices of flesh. I am often hard on myself, but I soon realize that is not what is need. I dream of one day, ascending into the heavens in the manner of Jesus, Buddha, the Yellow Emperor, and the Great Shamans of old. I yearn to take my place among the souls of the enlightened, becoming a member of the celestial watchers. This is a dream for the future that is only a fabrication in much of a similar way to the past. For now, I can see only the madness as a way out of the drudgery. The madness that is seen as living death, but is truly the uncensored voice of God.
Fact or fiction, what do you want, dear reader? Do you have a firm grasp on these two words in all possible definitions? Is your definition of what is fact something that can be proved by science or logic? Something of solidity and concrete? It is interesting to think that all objects are not really solid at all. They are merely molecules bouncing off one another; vibrating waves of light registered to our eyes which we give what ever label the present society sees fit. It is interesting to think that all things are comprised of a great deal of ‘space’. But what is in that space? Wise man of many indigenous cultures claimed that they could travel into this space as well as their own. They would go there to seek out answers and universal truths. To be connected to the all of things.
‘Power of flight and power of earth, joined together with the power of fire: this I must forever remember.’ This chant brought my blind guide to me almost instantly. He was shorter than I remembered. He grabbed ahold of me, telling me he would take me there. We went through the forest. We then stopped as I saw a rainbow serpent’s tail tear trough the clouds, opening the sky. Colored umbrellas descended down, acting as a lift. We climbed up through a portal that resembled a lava lamp. When we surfaced, we walked across a bubbly surface. On the other side, I saw a fat, sluggish-looking caterpillar lounging on a stained-glass floor. He introduced himself as God. I laughed at him, stating I did not believe his words. He then challenged me, asking why he couldn’t be God, stating it was all based on my perception. He went on to state that these entities of ‘perception’ and ‘free will’ were his gifts to mankind. He proceeded to take us through another haole in the sky. When we came through, I watched in awe as he transformed himself into a grand and magnificent butterfly. A fine monarch, indeed! He then invited me to feel my own power, stating that I was ‘transforming’ as he did. He let me bask in his warmth as the colors from his wings covered the arena of space in time. He said to me, “ I have a thousand faces and a million eyes. Spanning countless galaxies, I am inconceivable in greatness. I am inside each and every living thing.”
He showed me how small and at the same time, how vast I really was. Universes in universes. He showed me how he was all encompassing, stretching across the heavens, covering all galaxies he made. He then shrank to the size of an actual butterfly and flew into my hand. He told me of the beauty of creation, that he was imprinted deep in the genetic structure of every living being. He resided in the space.
To see God is a beautiful thing if you are ready to do it. I wake up with the hopes of going back to this point at some time, but rather in a state of physical godliness; enlightenment. I feel tired as of late, though, worn and disconnected. As much as I have learned and experienced about the true nature of reality and spirit, I still fall into trappings and vices of flesh. I am often hard on myself, but I soon realize that is not what is need. I dream of one day, ascending into the heavens in the manner of Jesus, Buddha, the Yellow Emperor, and the Great Shamans of old. I yearn to take my place among the souls of the enlightened, becoming a member of the celestial watchers. This is a dream for the future that is only a fabrication in much of a similar way to the past. For now, I can see only the madness as a way out of the drudgery. The madness that is seen as living death, but is truly the uncensored voice of God.
