Saturday, November 20, 2010

The Flooded Heart&Upward Transit(way old)

Converted roughly from diary to blog (wont make sense till you enter my head)

Something in a white blue dream, for the one who would liberate me is not me but in turn is my self.
I run away from what I was yesterday, through and through I search the skies for a glimpse of the majesty which I need to find still… Night melts into burning day and I grow old worn out and decayed.
In my youth I left it all behind, all that was sacred profane or even divine. Now it seeks to be with me once more. How long this fight shall be? I just could not know….
Sometimes I feel blessed or even a bit elated, that my life reflected something simple… far from being planned or thought about. Just a small experience of a wonderful divination
These moments are all the cause for the flooding of my heart. An outpouring of joy which remains unnoticed to all. The fire moves now moves inwards and not outwards. It burns my cells and tissues, It draws the power from the internal fire, It burns everything down to the earth. It draws drive from the wind, and draws control from the stable water. Its movements is planned ether. It looks minute and yet its the size of a million suns, Its brilliance unparalleled.
Molten Lava is the one mouth and insanity remains always the other mouth. Its awkward assuredly but its firmly required.
The Upward Spiral/Transit:

The creation spirals downwards and hence the evolutionary movement is always upwards both in metaphysical and technical reality of a sense. The eternity is spent moving towards the state which is unparalleled. The state which is the true mother of all dichotomies and contradictions. Towards the enlightenment, the soul seeks its own creator. Its own mother… The molten sheath pours finally towards the first centre. The chakra of becoming…
There was intrinsic silence in the soul of the moon today as if the skies had cleared up so that she would speak, But she did… only to those who listened to her.
There is ecstatic fervour/flavour moving alongside the energy now. Some thought it was the wind which made her move, but did you know; the wind too radiated with her psychedelic colors.
Certainly the humans spoke, but never in the language which I could understand, but in an entirely different tone; their love was for something else. Sometimes I feel that the colors in this great world are too much for me. I wanted a bit of darkness, perhaps therefore causing such darkness to appear.
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Winds which remain tall, create an amazing sense in the alley ways of demise. They dont exist anywhere but in the shadow of our own souls.
Do you know what the soul is?
You could feel it when your skin itches deep from deep writhing in pain but you dont know how to remove the itch. As if there was no itch to begin with.
It is when reality cannot be described. Not because the real is not present. But there is no perceiver. The soul cannot be known; its just that my friend. Just that.
The words which are spoken or written are the soul too. The emotions and reactions are the soul. Even the soul is the Soul!
All selfish motivations are truly the soul.

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