Autobiography of the Keexzus, no. 6: Cosmic Reality & the Endless Motion Picture

HISTORY is the TRANSCRIPTION of WORLD NARRATIVES.

IT is the TECTONIC SHIFTING of IDEOLOGY

RELATIVE to OUR HISTORY, RELATIVE to OUR TIME.

WE ARE BORN FREE, FREE FROM TIME. IT IS THROUGH CULTURAL PROGRAMMING THAT WE IDENTIFY W/ THE NARRATIVE RELATIVE TO OUR GEOGRAPHY.

IT is the INNER WORLD that SETS ONE FREE from the DELUSION of the OUTER WORLD. AND THIS AGAIN IS THE SCIENTIFIC MAGIC of MEDITATION.

IT is the intolerable silence of GOD that IS GOD.

As is the case, it is the realm of the mystical, the magical that often breaks through egoic walls. Behind EVERY transformation there has been endless pain. I have been fortunate to dis-identify with many things. I believe my mind is endlessly destroying itself, endlessly structuring and rewriting what it is to be alive. 

IF you’re reading THIS, I LOVE YOU.

There will come a time when violence, conflict, and war will become completely intolerable. There will come a time when the cosmic motion picture of this world will evolve past plays and narratives and histories that end in conflict. There will be a time when division, conflict, violence will become so intolerable, only the solution will remain: unbearable compassion.

There will be a time when collective ego and delusion will become intolerable.

There will be a time when laws and borders will not be necessary for compassion and love will make those identity markers intolerable. The world is the living, breathing event.

It is the 7 billion critics trying to amass interpretation of the living, breathing event. 

It is the endless cosmic motion picture. 

I write with a sense of urgency not knowing how much time I ever have on Earth. It is the crawling creature wandering into the abyss. My heart is bleeding throughout time. In the inner world, there is the endless peace of god.

It is within the inner space that one unearths that which had been unseen, unheard, incomprehensible. The creation of space without form. It was once thought monsters would be crucified, killed, hunted, but what if the sacred is found in the unknown. It is not that the unknown is or is not the fear one wills but perhaps an entrance into the Divine one would infinitely dread even more.

Find the space inside the narrative.

It is the collapse of binary thinking, structural language, and ego based assumption that falls way. 

It is the disintegration of time.

It is the falling away of narrative walls.

It is the time structure itself becoming free. It is the limitless freedom one had feared unbearable. It is the no space of language, of time, of form. It is the formless, timeless stillness.

It is god without flesh.

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