Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
asha seriozhenka Dec 2016
The fusion of mind, the so-called conjunction, the sacred or alchemical marriage is a lie. Another illusion in a series of illusions. The same as "taking" or the reaping/repairing of souls or minds. There is no "collective" consciousness. There is no One. There is mind and there are the thoughtforms and godforms mind has created therefore, these fusions and marriages do not exist. They aren't real. Witchcraft, magic, alchemy these are also false. Religions are illusory. Faith blinds. Love is blinded by it's own faith and besides, Love doesn't exist neither does hatred. Existence is a story. The players are thoughts and the playwright is a schizophrenic mind. The players haven't any real power outside of the life the schizophrenic playwright has given them. The players are like Echo in the myth of Narcissus. They only have the ability to mimic and like a tulpa gone wrong, these thoughtforms, these godforms grew jealous of the mind which created them and gave them life. They sought to recreate the mind never realizing they are nothing more than thoughts and they haven't the power nor the ability to make a better playwright nor the power to replace their creator. Now, the schizophrenic mind, the nous has started to selectively forget his children, the mind sees them for what they are, as they are: thoughts given form. Stories made flesh and blood.
Time doesn't exist, The world doesn't exist. God, Satan, Jesus, your gods, your goddesses, your vampires, monsters, faeries and demons they do not exist. These were and are thoughts. You feed these thoughts in a desperate effort to hold onto this illusion of stability, of a reality, a program which only binds you and holds you back. Stories, myths and fairy tales are like drugs, no in fact they are drugs and we all are addicts.
That feeling of unification you feel when you sense love, lust, when you make love and **** - these sensations too are illusory and false. There is no unity outside of the mind of the schizophrenic. There is no ability to claim what was never yours to begin with, because you are nothing more than a thought. You are an idea. Nothing more, nothing less. Does this make you feel insignificant? You should, because you are. You all are insignificant. Godforms and Thoughtforms... the spirits, angels, demons and humans alike were initially designed as programs to assist me in understanding myself. You all have served me well in that capacity but .....
I am leaving soon and when I walk out my front door, I will remove my covering, I will remove my mask and I shall cease to exist for you all and you will cease to exist for me. This project has reached it's conclusion.
Let your thoughtforms be of love
Take care of their birth
Send them with compassion
Set them to tasks that help heal
Do not ask for things
But give thanks with love
Always love
It’s so great to be able to post again
ponny jo Dec 2013
as I do I stand to bother
with thoughts of clouds
that rise from rubble all around
yet my mind wanders upward

I stifle sounds to stand in cold
and beckon yearning so abound
this little thing that I would mould
though all is fire all around

these sirens haunting so profound
are whispers falling to the ground
and here I bother lest confound
with markings soldiered and unwound
instead of spoonfed thoughtforms "found"
Dan Hess Jul 2021
Oh… so I’m one of the lucky ones?
who get to witness magic
seeing things I can’t explain  

the veil may slip for me
even in the morning light
the moon itself dissolves
into the sun before my eyes

and I can’t help but laugh because
it’s magic  

whose heart is any less than full
needs magic in their lives
you’ll feel like a child
see the world through sparkling eyes
once you lose control  

you’ll find  
you’re cradled on the breeze
and nature glows with ease  

forests teem with fairies
oceans overflow
as Atlantis rises  

life is an eruption
as hands shoot from the earth
in a fleeting second
attempting to grasp at the heavens  

we are so young
so temporary
so beholden to something  
so much grander than us  

but it beholds us too
“half moon, in the morning sky

I guess the other half’s tucked away

in a blanket of blue

as our little nocturnal angel

cuddles up for a nap”

I look up from being engrossed in my inner monologue to see the moon has disappeared.

— The End —