metaphysics

By: Jack Tupac Pennington The structure of life is the comparison of life and death, light and darkness, extreme and nothingness; the forgetfulness of having thought at one moment. Damage inflicted on one ’ s self is projected in a day to day, second to second basis of experience caught in rage against the spirit. The spirit, the unknown darkness, of answers and questions is separated by logic in a socially equipped individual. The animal spirit is in the pity of human unconsciousness uncontrollable fury. which is wrapped away in an Good and evil are forces that hide human insight and are walls that devise the path of enlighten. Thought is but a mere conclusion to ones instinct. Forgetfulness is yet another tool, in the human psyche that reminds the universal time of its expectancy. Mind and spirit is too complex for man to learn how to use it; the enemy is the self searching for an unreachable bliss. Philosophy is a mind state that helps man find a momentary escape from the world’ s undying hate. Communication is nothing but a humans dying need for temptation. Understanding a feeling far greater than the material plan, a perception beyond love and yet still all of the above. Listening briskly to attempts of lands men describing their discontent with the way money swayed the everlasting truths to their peoples. How can man stoop to the level of an animal, only with the very means that sets him apart from his ancestor the animal kingdom. The truth is in contact with what was, and lies falling on present deaf ears of survival instead of denial. Tears of hidden passion washed away on treasure hidden in the dark blue seas of battle. Boarders have been melting into thin lines of power without ever touching sanity of the soul. Politics is like a ballroom of fools who want everything for nothing in return. This is the end of it all but I can’ t tell which way up is down and this is the beginning of no stress found in the round part of your heart and I can’ t help you find the path. The things in the brain make us think we are sane but in fact that is pureness of it all that’ s when humans fall. Things are what they are but the human soul is ever changing and appearing whole, or is it all just a game. Where would all the game be without the so called shame that falls out when you look in the mirror and who knew we could be so sinister. Better when and if so many conditions that fix your premonitions of past killed by the truth of dumb dumbs who hold glue in their mouth while spitting out profanities. The whole mind set is falling out of powerful mind bluffs. Holding cards in hand the troubled say they can’ t fix it and they don’ t want to understand. Power is just another part of the great Babylon tower built by the Romans... The eagle gets swallowed by a billion ants jumping out of dark suits. Money is not the path to our humanly pursuits... We dying but everybody keeps lying saying just maybe. Work is done with your hands but every man who sweats of course in his heart understands. Sand ridden mountains with spills of heat falling from the opposite horizon, seas waving and crashing down around the sides of fallen slopes, shores of beauty far more important than the grains of sand that make them all together. The sun falling at the seconds of sight the appearance of time falling into drops of ocean water crashing upon ears and hearts before the end of the start. The dark faces and round traces of sensuality taking rationalities place, the furthering of the soul finding itself in a real place where there is face on the planet of every horizon and a different kind of light just before you shut your eyes and realize the things are nothing like the cousin of death is to our dreams. At the summit of the real, complexity is not stressed neither is it sitting with your mind, placed in a place of pace or the beat of the heart. It is as to compete in many races only to make your stand and try to understand the real part is in your heart. Sun and blazing heat from the traces of so many different places leave us dealing with our own eternal cases... Placement in mind is not the placement of one person upon the planet. It is but the state that one feels or knows upon showing interest in his or her surroundings. Enlightment is but the gesture of the becoming of such notions as one dissolves the understanding of being of becoming. The transformation of the human mind is his understanding of his environment, the adaptation of what he considers vital to survive and prosper in his world. The world doesn’ t rotate around ones head, but is internalized in a thought of his action towards his peers or outer realization of stance. The planet offers us yet as a virus a cure to this never ending explanation of what will happen to our mind. It is infinite knowledge and information twisted in our understanding which makes it impossible for us to come to one conclusion about any one facet of our lives. There remains a constant that keeps us from actually finding an end to what we have already started. Ends exist because we measure all things around us, but life is not a straight line neither does it contain any sort, thereof. Points never connect, for they are considered the anomaly of how all is connected in our eye of thought. Content in our every thought therefore is reflected upon something very different from what we actually perceive with our conscious minds. The unconsciousness therefore reacts in feelings that bring the human race ever so farther and farther from any one complete understanding. Time Outside The Formal Line Man and woman alike share this world, and perhaps their sharing of it all is different but same. Woman has her name imprinted upon the planet as a symbolism deep within her womb. It is there, where man begins his concise order of where things are and to be placed and now everything and everybody should be properly sorted. Woman has no sorts about her that of which makes her an impressive creature to make love with. She is a beast that cannot be tamed for an eternity neither is she tame when she appears that she is so. Her so called conflict is none at all than only that she survives within the reaches of what she loves and bears to be. Unconditional touch, unconditional love is the pureness of a being or any state of being. She is a poet without diction, neither does she bother with mans hands that try to grab the very essence of life but simply fades away in his naive attempt to do so. So does woman effect man in his struggle to obtain that which complements mans destruction and so called belief? In fact man has many a story created for such moments of his existence. Goddesses. Perhaps, even the Greeks portrayed this everlasting drama in their own religion of Gods and The drama of life was and is ever held in a fairy-tale of belief. Zeus with his mighty power of lightning yet holds true for mans existences even today. Lives can be destroyed with a mere bolt of fiery attitude swayed in the mighty hands and mouths of the so called “ Gods” of politics. Yet, the so called Goddesses merely withhold an imagery of how they can change the direction of man in order to believe in such tyrants as men who portray their power as “ Godly” . The inhabitants of the planet do not prey in their light but have decided there is no one correct way to evolve past it all. They bow their heads and continue sleeping as the “ Gods” dream for them. The nature of this drama is withheld in some awkwardness and feat impounded upon the hearts of humanity. We are comfortable to be led, but we are not satisfied when we arrive. We complain and criticize by word of mouth but we dare not raise our hands in action against the “ Gods” , for an action against the “ Gods” in such belief is considered blasphemy. It is seen in such light as man fears himself or waits that another man take it, yet, on another level where so called “ crusades” take place in order to replace war as a holy purpose. What is love in this light, but mere stupidity and nothing but a word used as a justification of hate. Such justifications enable men to make truths from the light of belief. It seems that belief is overrated. It’ s left in some realm of what has been created in the hearts of humans whom seek to create a higher grade of consciousness. I do respect those beings, but all the stories they are retold in different perspectives. Each story told with metaphor recounting the building blocks of something held untrue or true to ones’ measurement of death. consciousness. Time continues only because man perceives it to be a He uses this vice to coax the Condition is masses into a belief that is existential. If we cannot take part in this basic belief then we do not exist. properly stated and any one man whom does not uphold to the consequences of this circle is a mere example of what falsehood should represent. Representation is a form but we are not allowed to interpret it for our most humanistic possessions have been robbed of us in order to sustain the great existential machine. Choice of this offer have not extended, for within the programmed style of the machine, our senses are turned off in order to sustain the logic of how each cog connects and turns the great machine. Parts can be added but in effect the machine does not evolve.