It is the collective narrative we seek to enhance through unconscious action.
It is the myth of time.
I begin to withdraw from time.
I pray to an unknown god.
I cry for an end to time.
I search for an end to pain.
As I scrawl on walls, on floors, as my own heart breaks over the wandering emptiness of the fleeting object, I cry out to an unknown god. As we scrawl on walls, the identification with time loosens. This is the creature Keexzus transcribing the walls of time. These are fragments that will be sutured together in time. It is the pain of time. It is the aloneness on the cross that crucifies the heart and placates the mind with the infinite space. It is the loss of material identification that stimulates spiritual growth. It is the fall that is freeing, liberating.
As time slows to a crawl and reality ultimately stops, the cosmic delusion of time and narrative time also fall away. It is the personal shift that will equate to self-realization. As we tilt and shift the ideological perception of mind, we move from the horizontal realm toward the vertical realm of time. In the horizontal realm, we identify with the cosmic motion picture. As narrative needs time to explore the depths of mind and its ideological roots.
The condition of the perception and indeed architecture of the filter itself is sculpted over the duration of narrative time which takes place on the horizontal realm. It is the ideological filter that tilts the balance of narrative reason for the living, breathing ideological subject. It is not uncommon to unearth what had been in plain sight yet so carefully and blindly hidden. It is the infinite stillness of this space that will create the needed polar shift. We must reach the zero point of ideology, of narrative, of thought structure…
for this… we must find the vertical dimension of time… now… for
Love is the extinction of time.