Philosophy of the Keexzus, No. 75: Structural Infinities

Philosophy of the Keexzus, No. 75: Structural Infinities

Literature is the fragmentation of time.

The dislocation of time based, narrative based mind is the initial goal. The slight awareness of the ego based mind dissolving, still identifying with itself, saying the mind is destroying itself. It is dissolving ego based structures. The mind is not destroying itself.

A novel is a representation of time.

The reasoning for or against the creation of the novel is not the subject. Time is the realm of the mind based, ego based narrative.

Spirit is not represented in time.

There is that which is not you seemingly but is you entirely. Spirit skulks beyond the curtains of time. There is that which is not the narrative. There is fiction. There is the realm of ego, and beyond mind. Falling Into Being is about losing consciousness. Book 1 is called Falling Into Being.

I stand amongst an ocean. I am reciting poetry for the masses.

The director of thought exists in mind. And these walls eventually fail. Abandon the structural city of mind. Abandon its narratives for existence for it only serves to carve out its own importance. Infinity pools turned to oceans, realms beyond. Confess to ignorance. Understand deeply.

Carve out dreams in time.

This is the endless escape.

Howl at form, structuralism, at the madness of it all.

Imagine endless bliss, the realm of a dream’s essence.

The impossibilities of all future’s begin now.

Why do you have to believe anything.

For the first time see the foundations of this very moment.

Abandon language and form.

Abandon the mind that insists it is right.

Abandon the language of fear.

Abandon language that does not create.

The foundations of all conflicts, large and small, rests in ego. The mind fears extinction. And it fears Other.

It is timeless essence that escapes.

The description of form is not enough.

The incomprehensible, unbearable streams of life exiting. Something like the birth of consciousness beginning to take form. Imagine crafting a language for the incomprehensible. This is the lifeblood of poetry. Language can be sculpted. To what degree lies with ego.