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Stranger Registered: 07/26/15 Posts: 3 Last seen: 6 years, 6 months |
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The fire burned bright and strong with the scent of cedar and pine wood, providing a Promethean Perch to the group so that philosophy may be spewed out and around and about. In the dark distance where the light didn't reach there was heard the sounds and sonatas of millions of wild animals desperately trying to get laid. Huddled around the flames, conversation flickered about the group while I stood still in huddled silence. My thoughts couldn't have been further away from the others; the acid was on the rise and conversation was becoming impossible for me to handle, comprehend, or create in any shape shifting form. My thoughts strayed to the dark mysterious unknown multiverse surrounding our warm glowing ball of burning safety. The known, comfortable world of the flickering flames of the Human safety net of society began to choke out my spirit with its fumes of normality. I was wont to experience that very essence of life itself, to venture forth into the wilderness and feast on the bread and butter of all philosophy. To sit around a fire and talk at such a moment would be utter blasphemy before my unchained soul. The wild wonder of the unknown world beckoned for me to join her and thus, excusing myself from the group, I ate a single Psilocybe Cubensis mushroom and ran off into the night, stick in hand, hell bent on finding myself and something special to share about myself in the process.
The moonlit forest glowed and echoed with a primordial ancient unspoken wisdom all around me. I stood upon a patch of white sand surrounded by the tall grass and taller trees of the Florida landscape. Above me the full moon in all her great glory, enshrined with a heavenly halo, illuminated all around and within me. Out of habit, I plugged my headphones deep into my ears and immersed myself into Jethro Tull's masterpiece, Thick As A Brick. Really don't mind if you sit this one out. My words but a whisper your deafness a SHOUT. I may make you feel but I can't make you think. Your sperm's in the gutter your love's in the sink. So you ride yourselves over the fields and You make all your animal deals and Your wise men don't know how it feels To be thick as a brick. The stick began twirling itself in puzzling patterns, loop-de-loops, infinity signs, whirlwinds and just so so so so so so much and many more movements around me. IT spun, swirled and twirled about and around my mortal coil. My mind wasn't conscious of what it was doing or what it would do next; it was guided by the hand of Ian Anderson's musical genius and not my mere thoughts. The cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea: the builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose and contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need. The young men of the household have all gone into service and are not to be expected for a year. The innocent young master - thoughts moving ever faster - has formed the plan to change the man he seems. And the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword. And the oldest of the family is moving with authority. Coming from across the sea, he challenges the son who puts him to the run. Eyes closed, stick still spinning, I beheld a perfect reflection of myself. It looked like a perfect reflection of who, what, where, why, when and how I am, another me viewed from the vantage point of an outsider. I could not believe the apparition before my eyes. I had seen many things so far in my short stay on this planet but never did I ever expect to see myself. I spoke to the self, but it did not respond. It just stayed still. I projected my thoughts out to the reflection behind closed eyes, but the reflection didn't move a muscle. It stayed there, solitary, not moving a muscle. No motion graced it as it stayed there in static silence. Suddenly, the screen cracked and the other self was erased over and out. The shards of the vision shattered before my very consciousness and all that remained were bright crystalline greenish-purple tesselations of triangles blinking on and off in rapid succession. I let out a great gasp as the reflection vanished and I felt a rift of inner emptiness open up in my heart. For but a mere moment I had beheld my perfect other in all its eternal glory but it was nothing more than a rouse, another passing thought which dissipated just like any other thought. I opened my eyes and beheld myself all alone in the midst of the moonlit forest, stick in hand, twirling it around in cyclical circular patterns which seemed to go on forever. That vision, which reminded me all-too-well of my disparate condition of being, of my insatiable desire to create an other such as myself, brought about a pain of separation from the rest of the world. I was a piece of the puzzle which wouldn't be content with himself until made whole. My egregious ego wouldn't let my attention rest until it beheld that reflection of self again in the physical world around and about me; it held my heart hostage at gunpoint, leaving me parched of happiness and hope for the future. Yet again I found myself thinking like a grown up. So! Come on ye childhood heroes! Won't you rise up from the pages of your comic-books your super crooks and show us all the way. Well! Make your will and testament. Won't you? Join your local government. We'll have Superman for president let Robin save the day. My stick, still moving ever faster, transformed from a toy to a tool with which I was to hammer and shape another self from the warm damp jaws of mother nature herself. The childish wonder of infinite novelty died down to a pile of ashes, cremated to a crisp by the flames of desire to fulfill the narcissistic ego-trip of projecting an image of self upon the world. I screamed, if not bellowed out aloud in my intense inner isolation. The trees closed in on me and a snake slithered through the sand a few meters away from me. So you ride yourselves over the fields and You make all your animal deals and Your wise men don't know how it feels To be thick as a brick. The song died down and faded to static sounding thought. Natural selection tightened her noose around my neck and I began to lose the will to breathe. I had to get out of there. Through the thicket I saw a field and, stick in hand, I ran through the thicket, stick waving every which way to spare my face the discomforting panicky chill which comes about from the surprise of coming face-to-face with a silky spider web. I galloped faster and harder, leaping and bounding through the forest until, like a a pin poking through a water balloon I burst out onto the field. The field extended all around me. Short dew-drenched grass coated the plain, dotted with oak trees. To my right was a bike trail and beyond that the road stood still, devoid of the wanton whistle of automobiles. To my left I saw tall grass and sage stretching far beyond the limits of my vision. The full moon, uncensored by the trees or streetlights, beamed down upon me and filled me with madness and inspiration. Led Zeppelin struck my ears with its red hot rhythm and ecstatic stick-assisted dance broke out of my being and as such was translated from one dimensional though to three dimensional action. Dance and dance and screaming, bellowing at the bright moon before me, I begged the inner child to come back, but it did not. Finding the reflection of self became the object of desire. Childish wonder was gone from my mind and thus I danced and screamed and spun harder and harder, dragging my thoughts away from such foolish fantasy with every ounce of active attention. Dance distracted the body but the mind wasn't going down so easily. Silence, no conscious thoughts echoed in my brain. I banished the desire to the land of ignorance and consumed myself with the stick dance. Stairway to Heaven sunk into my ears and I found myself drawn down a path made by a tractor of some sort which cut through the tall grass. I managed to reach the border between the short-ish grass of the field and the tall grass of the uncharted territory when the desire to dance yet again overran my mental faculties. The first note of the song suddenly liberated me from the thought-loop of creating my perfect other. The story of Led Zeppelin's greatest blessing upon humanity flowed through my mortal coil and through my stick like noetic lightning. Rosy red, neon yellowish aquamarine Fleur-de-lises spun around my stick and flew off into the heavens above, coating the sky in tryptaminic splendor. The fear of dying, of being alone faded away as the Allies struck a fever pitch in my brain and the peak annihilated the ego. I was zen, I was then, I was right here and now. Where the future would lead me I knew not where; all I knew was that all desire and needs would be fulfilled eventually. In the moonlit night I was meant to be here, alone under the maddening maw of mother moon, in perfect harmony with the natural world around and about and within me. There was no I. There was no me. There was all. And she's buying a Stairway to Heaven... Robert Plant's final words inspired me to thrust my spinning stick up to the heavens. It spun higher and higher up towards mother moon and, feeling at peace within, I closed my eyes and emitted a long and unabated OM.... When I opened my eyes all hell broke loose. I looked to my left, to my right, in front of me and behind me and, lo and behold, my stick was nowhere to be seen. Waves of panic and fear and shock and horror and despair crashed over my psyche as the universe tore me asunder from an integral part of my being, through which I found the will to express my truer inner self. Desperately I looked harder and all over around where she had left me but, under the moonlight my special stick was nowhere to be seen. My hands still spun asunder as if she was still in my grasp but now they flipped and flailed around like Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm-Flailing Tubemen without any rhyme or reason to their machinations. Without the stick to project thoughts through they ferociously flailed aimlessly around the surrounding space, without an inkling of purpose or rhyme or reason to guide them through the projections of deep thoughts flowing through them, begging to be written down. In a state of illogical desperation born out of such a shock to myself, I walked down the path through the tall grass with the delusion that perhaps the hand of fate had grabbed my special stick mid-spin and had chucked it into the tall grass as a creul joke against me. Alas, I found nothing further down the path. From out of nowhere a sharp sting shocked my foot. Little spikeballs, small sandspurs stabbed and stuck themselves into my bare feet. I howled out in shock and pain and horror and what in the hell had just stung me and, hobbling around, I ran my hand over my foot and plucked out the little bastards one by one until the sting made way for the one which was now stabbing through my soul. Shedding tears, I walked back the way I came and, standing on the spot where I had last seen the stick spin, I bellowed out to the mysterious moon: "CURSE you, universe! Cruel hand of fate which tears all good things apart at their seams! Yet again you have torn me asunder from myself! I guess that tormenting me with fiery fantasy of the illusion of making an other wasn't enough! Now you've seen fit to tear me apart from myself and here I stand, tattered and torn and alone! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW YOU MISERABLE JOKE OF A GOD?!?!? I HOPE YOU'RE GETTING A GOOD LAUGH FROM MY SUFFERING YOU SNIVELING SWINE! IF YOU'RE GOING TO TEAR ME ASUNDER YOU MIGHT AS WELL KILL ME NOW! I'D RATHER DIE THAN LIVE TO BE THE BUTT OF YOUR PRACTICAL JOKES!" Beneath me I tried to move my feed but couldn't. They were stuck. Shocked, I looked down to find them slowly sinking in quicksand. God was getting me good tonight. First my happiness, then my stick, NOW my feet. Hell no; she wasn't going to get my body. NO damn way. With each and every ounce of strength left I dragged my feet out of the sinking sands and ran to the bike trail next to the field. The makings of man seemed safe and sane by now-at least on the paved path I wouldn't be sucked down into the depths of divine hell. I checked my phone and was stabbed by surprise. It had been a grand total of three hours since this introspective nightmare had kicked off. A text from Joanna, one of the others whom I had abandoned before the hearth, read "Hey man, will you head back this way?" I felt the worry and fear hidden behind the words and sadness arose in my heart that somehow, someway my absence was stirring such unease about the group. Feeling the duty to inform the others that I was alive and well I set back to the campfire to assure the others of my ongoing survival. A break was well deserved from this soul-scathing introspective nightmare; hopefully the universe wouldn't rob me of the rest of my life along the way. Flashlight illuminating the forest floor I trod on, I made my way down to the campfire where the others lay. Walking up to the periphery of the finite warmth of the fire, I was greeted by Bear, a friend who towered tall over the others like a great grizzly ready to give a big ol' bear hug. "Hey man," Bear whispered to me, "How are things going? Are you alright?" "Yeah, I'm doing great! Can't keep conversation though-thoughts are flying and fluttering about me. Speaking makes little to no sense." Chuckling, Bear retorted "Hehe, that's quite alright. We were getting worried about you; we'd appreciate it if you checked back up with us more often just to let us know you're alive. Some were getting a bit worried about your absence." We walked back before the fire and I took my seat across from the semi-circle of others huddled around the warmth of their Promethean perch. "Greetings friend," warmly smiled the big nosed curly haired head of Elijah, our resident ayahuasquero and space-holder. "What have you learned?" For a moment I stood still in mindfucked silence. Words slithered out of my breath without taking form. My speech center was a bowl of clam chowder by this point and I struggled to give sound to any semblance of logical coherent thought still in my mind. "I'm still learning... friend... my brain is but a blank slate and the universe is still writing its will." I stared off into the warm glow of the flames. "Good," Elijah beamed down to me. "We were quite worried about you..." I looked around the others and felt a seeping foreboding feeling of unease creeping through the group. Joanna looked at me and sent her smile my way; slowly she was climbing out of her fearful state of mind which had arisen in my absence. The others stared off uneasily into the hearts of the flames and twiddled their thumbs and stamped the sand with the soles of their feet. I happened to notice that Mendel, a Brazilian gentleman with big bushy black eyes, was now missing. All around I couldn't help but feel that they were on a different level than myself. In my absence I could see that something special had happened to the group; the universe had decided to rob the others of a part of their unified whole as well. "What... what happened to Mendel?" I blankly and faintly half-heartedly said, soul still stuck in the life-licking fire. "Ah, he had a bit of a flare up, friend. He ate a bit too much cannabis and lost his mind. Without a word of warning he stood straight up in front of the flames, saying nothing, staying as still as a statue wobbling in the wind. Absolute terror rang through his eyes and tears began to flow down his frigid face. He then started screaming in Portuguese and jumping around like a hyena. Bear and I got a hold of the situation and brought him back in a brotherly embrace. He went a little too far off the deep end but he's doing better now. He's in the cabin right now and is taking a bit of a breather. He had us all shaken up for a bit, then Joanna got a bit scared about you missing and it sorta spread throughout us. It's alright though; we're glad you're back. If you can, please just check in with us from time to time-we were getting a little bit scared about you." "Of course, friend... I won't go away for as long next time..." the words mindlessly left my mouth, my attention was tranfixed on the flickering flames. Yet again I began to feel the heat of the fire burn away at my mortal coil. The fumes flooding my face were giving me double vision and I was struck by yet another wave of nausea and suffocation. Now was not the time to stand idly by the fire stuck in myself unable to communicate with others and only able to be. An owl in the dark depths from whence I had came was hooting my name. Mother Nature was calling me back to the field of philosophy to resume my studies of self under the full moon. "I am glad you all is well, friend... Alas, I must wander some more... will come back sooner than last time," I muttered through my muddied muddled mindfucked mentality. In unspoken unison the others nodded their approval. Nodding my thanks I got up and waddled away into the dark dream to seek out the stick of truth which had been so unfairly torn asunder from myself by the cruel hand of the fates. The hooting got louder and louder and stopped as the owl blasted off from her perch above me and flew three times around myself in still silence. I stood static staring into her eyes until she, with a fluttering of wings, glided off into the unknown darkness which my eyes couldn't see through. All alone yet again, I marched through the forest to the tune of chirping crickets back to the field of philosophy. The time read 1:34 AM and all clouds were gone from the sky as far as my eyes could perceive. The moon, shining a shade of brighter blueish-yello than I had seen in many months, was surrounded by a white angelic halo. That moon, that halo... That is no angel, I spoke to myself. That is the halo of the fallen angels themselves. Cursed moon, twisted hand of fate. Your schadenfreude humor is killing me dead! Why do you tear me asunder? What is your game you demented devil? Echoing from the moon I felt myself vibrate with shock waves of divine comedy. Unable to resist, I too caught the contagious laughter and burst out into marked hysterics. I lost the ability to stand and began rolling around in the grass, overflowing with humorous happiness. I laughed and laughed and laughed until I thought I was going to die, but then thought of how fantastically funny that was and broke out into laughing sobs instantaneously. If I died right then and there I couldn't have cared less-Dying of laughter is the best way to go. The laughter spread like the plague to all the other life forms around me. Soon every blade of grass around me, every tree within earshot was laughing uncontrollably at the pun of divine comedy. Every living life form, myself included, were all jokes who reached their punchline at the moment of death. Life is a joke and death is the punchline. Humor is what mitigates the final fear and all that remains once we realize how stupid it is to invest so much energy and was so much of our finite time in fear of the unknown. Living in fear of death is funny. Living with anger and fear and sadness upon being separated from my stick was funny. Living life stuck up on the small little sandspurs of dramas which stab through into the lowest parts of ourselves and distract us from the universal cosmic joke is funny. Life is fun and funny; suffering only exists when we sweat the small stuff and let it fog-up our vision with clouds of disappointment and desire. All anger, all sadness, all sorrow and suffering begin with SHOULD. "I should have made a cake. He should have been nicer to me. He should have given me five bucks for the bus. I should have said something to my Grandmother before she died." Shoulda coulda woulda. It doesn't matter until one thinks it does matter and decides to make what appears broken whole when really it was never broken in the first place. So what? I had lost my stick. I can't change that. The universe meant it to happen and I can't do anything to fix that but laugh at the cosmic comedian i'm being. HAhahahahahahahahahahahhahah. Listen to the crickets chirping, listen to the snakes slithering, to the Cyotes howling in the distance. They're laughing at the joke of a life they are all living and whoever laughs hardest will find a mate to help them create their other. Those who sweat the small stuff will wander and waddle amok around the wilderness with as much direction as a freshly-decapitated chicken, running aimlessly around the barn of being, blood spewing from its neck until the punchline goes right over its head and it dies without a chuckle to its name. I chuckled and laughed and hooted and hollared some more until, after some ungodly amount of time, I came out of the trance and tuned into Dark Side of the Moon. Around and around I spun under the moon, arms static and still slicing through the stagnant cool night air surrounding me. Ecstasy and joy and dance were about. Whenever I came out of the spin the world still swirled around me and, dizzy as a seasick sailor in the middle of a hurricane, I collapsed upon the damp and dewy grass and let loose a peal of laughter from my warm moist lips and kissed the sky. Utter divine ecstasy was all there was now. The stick could have mattered less. I let go of all negative egotistical attachment to what I thought was lost forever and assumed my role as the protagonist in my divine comedy without a single formula of reserve or attachment to such trivial things. Like a slave crossing the Mason Dixon line I felt the shackles of oxytocinergic attachment around my soul become undone and drop down to the ground beneath me. Like a child I found myself free from the drama of finding the self and let loose another hoot and holler at how funny I was and am still acting. Nothing is funnier than seeing a man stuck in a lie not knowing that the joke's just on him. All that you touch All that you see All that you taste All you feel All that you love All that you hate All you distrust All you save All that you give All that you deal All that you buy beg, borrow or steal All you create All you destroy All that you do All that you say All that you eat everyone you meet All that you slight everyone you fight All that is now All that is gone All that's to come And everything under the sun is in tune But the sun is eclipsed by the moon. There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it's all dark. The beating of the dying heart survived the lyrical cascade of David Gilmore and soon faded to static stillness. I looked at my phone and saw that the clock was inching close to 3 AM. I remembered how uncomfortable my last absence had made Joanna and the others feel and felt it to be the time to return to the fire. I had learned to laugh with life herself in merry unison and now it was time to share the love and light with the others beside the flickering flames. I walked back to the fire pit and took my seat beside the others. In lieu of the suffocating smoke I now smelled fresh warmth anew. The glow of the fire smothered all around and about me in a warm shade of orange and yellow. Smiling at Elijah and I spoke forth "All life is a joke. We are brought up into life and grow up when we take it too seriously. Happiness can't be felt, only sought after. Pursuing it is a joke and thinking it can be achieved is just as funny. We can't ever be truly happy, we can only hallucinate happiness and laugh at our ill-fated death-driven pursuit of it." My words faded away into the flickering flames, now in their death throes, and silence stood still in my static self. Elijah, with a sigh and a laugh, replied, with much thought in between words "Well, that's only part true. Happiness isn't some unachievable ideal we seek to find in the world but never find. That's not happiness. That's desire. The search for the next bigger hit, the biggest baddest greatest rush in the world, pure pleasure. Desire, my friend, not happiness. We are all naturally happy but aren't always aware of our natural state of happiness when we get caught up in the machinations of unquencheable desire for more and bigger and better things. Don't be the dreamer who observes all of life passing him idly by from an outsider's perspective. Be the dream he sees. You aren't the dreamer. You are the dream. Don't ever forget that, my friend. Stay happy as we all naturally are. Don't let yourself get dragged down by desire into being anything but." I smiled at him, my heart aglow with a flame stronger than the fading fire between us. "Thank you, friend. I have much to think of but this makes much more clearer." "You are most welcome, friend. I am glad you have learned something in the wilderness." With a big beautiful grin Elijah beamed down rays of cosmic energy through my heart, rays of fiery flames which made me feel much more at peace with myself and my loss. "Did you guys notice I left with a stick, but now do not have one?" I asked the group, a grin smeared on my face. "Hmmmmm, yeah..." Joanna replied. "That is what set it all off, my friends. I lost the stick as it spun off spinning into the heart of mother moon and I lost it. I had been searching for it for God-knows how long but never found it. I believe that mother nature took it from me in order to teach me to let go. When I first lost it, it felt like a part of me was wrenched apart from my own body. I was overcome with fear and longing and anger and a deep desperate desire to get it back but then, as I came back to the field, I realized that I was the object of a Jehovial jest and that the punchline was me realizing how foolish it is to hold onto what is lost and gone like a cranky child unable to come to grips with reality. I then proceeded to laugh for a good hour straight along with the rest of the forest once the punchline knocked the wind out of me and Now I feel much much better. It was one helluva joke and waking up to it is the punchline. I was born laughing, became unaware of the joke I am and forever will be, and will start laughing again once the punchline hits me. You're right, man. We're always happy when we're in the dream; we aren't happy when we become the dreamer." "Hehah. I'm glad you're beginning to see the light," Elijah chuckled at me. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I need to wander off again." "Do what you will, friend. we'll be right here if you need us." Flashing me a smile Elijah bade me farewell and I ventured down the road through the woods toward the field of philosophy. Straddled across my path, staying still as static death herself stood, or really lay, a two meter long coral snake. Red and Yellow kill a fellow was written all over its skin and I was gripped by the deeply-nestled fear of all that is deadly. Backing slowly off, I did an about face and darted back toward the fire, towards safety. "Well now, that was a quick trip," Bear laughed at me when I got back. "I saw a coral snake blocking my path through the wilderness and it told me to head back. Now is not the time to venture forth into nature. I need to eat..." "Well have a seat and have a bite, friend!" Joanna handed me some strawberries and Bear foisted some dark chocolate and a bowl full of caapi leaf into my outstretched hands. The strawberries and chocolate replenished my energy reserves and killed the hunger headache which had begun to swell inside my cranium. The caapi leaf grounded my muddled mind and I relaxed into the warm glow of the smoldering embers, being bathed in the surreal heavenly light of the full moon above us. Zenning out, I thanked my friends for the food and sacraments and went into a state of meditative mindlessness. Calm, peace, inner bliss and emptyness (the good kind) massaged my attention into a state of pure presence and I felt whole again. I didn't need a mirror image of myself to feel whole. I didn't need my stick to be whole. I just needed to know I was whole to feel whole. The clock struck five and the full moon was about to be eclipsed by the encroaching cloud line. Feeling yet another urge to go out, I bade the others, who had just rekindled yet another fire, a fond farewell and ventured forth to the field of philosophy. Some smidgen of self still seemed hell bent on finding the missing stick which I couldn't quite shake off. I couldn't help but submit to the burning passion to become whole with what life herself robbed me of and walked off yet again into the wilderness. Before me the bushes rustled with life and a Coyote's howl echoed from the shrubbery beside me. Absolute terror overran my faculties and I bolted back to the fire in a fit of life-or-death adrenergic frenzy. A stick was not worth dying for. So what? I lost my stick on a field in the middle of the night? What was the point of trying to get it back if I would die before I found it? It didn't make sense. Getting back to the campfire I saw the others yawn and stretch their hands behind their tired and weary backs. The sun was soon to come up and they wanted to sleep for a few seconds before the sun came up and made them feel like chewed up worn out sleep-deprived zombies of men. I bade them good dreams and tended to the fire, all by myself, smoking bowls of caapi leaf and meditating on the nature of being. The moon by now had all but gone away, shrouded behind the clouds I saw that things were slowly beginning to brighten up. Daybreak was on the way. I chewed some more chocolate and nibbled on a loaf of conveniently placed bread and went deeper into my own personal meditations. The sky got brighter and brighter and brighter still until the sun was all but up. Swallowing my fear of death whole I tuned into Tool's Lateralus and strode forth through the woods to the field of philosophy to witness the sunrise. Tool, ah how I love ye. Never before had I every given this group my undecided attention and I was damn glad I had given them my attention now. Listening to Lateralus, I witnessed the day come back into motion as my mind stood still. I waded into the center of the field at the same exact spot where the stick of truth had left me hanging high and dry feeling like half a man hell-bent on reuniting with himself. To the west I saw the full moon smeared smack dab on the blue background of the western sky. Behind a whitish-yellow halo'd purple cloud the sun's rays refracted over the silver lining, shedding their warm angelic glow over the planet. The sky was a galaxy of purples, blues, oranges, reds, yellows and just about everything else in between. The green grass was aglow and sprinkled with dew. Mother morning was upon me and the world was heavenly. I stared down the dirt road which cleaved the tall grass in two and, wearing shoes, I trod forward down the dusty trail through the thick sea of green around me. The path seemed to go on forever and ever. All I could see was the kaleidoscopic colors of sunrise shining bright upon the morning sky and the sea of green grass and sage and scrub for miles around which gave way to the tall tremendous trees in the background. Going down ever further I came upon a single solitary park bench in the middle of it all, kilometers down the path from where I had lost the special stick. Seeing no reason as to why not to, I plopped myself down and stared upon the work of art on display. Facing eastward, I saw the sun shining bright behind a purple cloud line. The brilliant white lining laced the purple milk-stain in place and stabbed my eyes with its blindingly brilliant beautiful beams of effervescent sunlight. My body sat limp as a log on the solitary park bench like the Gump it is and my soul melded with the moment. The cloud, the beams of light echoing around and about it. Intense wouldn't describe it. In fact, not any single word for describing immortal divine beauty would pale in descriptive power to capture it in words. IN the cloud I observed that which can never be recorded by the thoughts of man, that which can only be described only through experiencing it. To attempt to relate the sheer power and presence of that divine sign from above through words would be just as feasible as describing colors to a man who has been blind from birth. My mouth unhinged like a snake and from my mangy maw I muttered "Mah Tah Sah Rah" over and over again to myself. From within my heart burst forth a beam of white light, an inner sun glowed in my heart of hearts just as bright, if not brighter than, the sun shining down upon me from the world around. The two suns, one internal and the other external, fed off each other's energies in one helluva positive feedback loop until all there remained was my breath and light around and about and within shining bright with the brilliance of a billion suns. "Mah Tah Sah Rah... Mah Tah Sah Rah... Mah Tah Sah Rah..." All that was and all that ever will be of my attention, for some span of time, reverted from three dimensions back to the single dimension of the spirit world. Leaving my body behind, I let my fear burn away and walked forward into the eternal never dying bright white light. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOO Like a stick of dynamite exploding in front of a high speed camera in reverse the white light died down, centered itself in my heart and faded into to a faint warm glow which flowed throughout me like the blood through my veins and arteries. My breaths came slowly and deeply. With every inhalation I took in the beauty of Mother Nature in all her 4 billion years of perfection in motion and with every exhalation I let go of all the fear and negativity and mortal attachment to trivial things and objects of desire which clung to my heart like soul-sucking parasites. I came back into my body, or really just became aware of the fact that I had a body, and painted my face with a smile of sincerest satisfaction. Glancing over to the field of philosophy I saw quite the apparition before me. Beaming down into the field a vividly brilliant and crispy clear rainbow stood in all its immaculate glory upon the face of the good Earth; it looked as if the universe herself was imparting upon me an omen of forgiveness and positivity. I smiled back at her and thanked her for the light show. At some point I attempted to check the time yet again but, to my surprise, found that I was out of battery. In such a situation as this, I wouldn't have cared less. Alas, my friends and I had to be out of the campsite at 10 AM and I had no intention of being left behind or causing the others to get into a dispute with the powers that be. I bid a fond farewell to the work of nature-blessed art and, standing up, I bowed myself down to the ground in a state of solemn prayer and worship of my Mother Nature. In one of the few times in my short stay on the planet Earth, I felt completely humbled before the almighty hand of Life, the Universe, and everything else that takes Seven and a half million years to be summed to 42. In my heart of hearts I thanked the Universe for affording me such a powerful learning experience and, upon the whistling wind the hand of God gently stroked my bent-over back like a master comforting his beloved pup after being separated for many months. Tears of joy welled up in my eyes and flowed down my face like the river ganges and sprinkled down into the sandy surface below me. There was no I. There was no you. There was no one. There was all. Slowly yet surely I came out of the bow and rose to face the day in all her glory. Feeling the need to return to the others I trod down the path from whence I came toward the radiant rainbow which seemed to grow and get bigger and bigger with each and every step I trod toward the campsite. All around me the landscape got brighter and more beautiful. The plants shimmered and shone bright brilliant and beautiful before my tear-drenched eyes. The sages of the scrublands were all clad in white dandelion-like blooms. Reaching over, I grabbed a couple flowering branches from a nearby sage and stuck them in my ears. The whistling wind encouraged the flowers to rub against the side of my skull and whisper words of loving kindness into my ears. My smile only got bigger and better with each and every word of wisdom they imparted into me. They told me that they were agents from Mother Nature and that the stick had been a test of my true self and that the exam wasn't over; tonight was a night of learning to live beyond mortal attachment, to see that happiness only comes from within and not from the external world. The kingdom of God lies within and the fantasies of mere mortals reside outside the Kingdom. Filling oneself with materialist mortal delusions will disconnect one from the eternal divine happiness which one is born with and dies with. Life is one long joke of a dream and the punchlines hits us right when we wake up from it. Don't be the dreamer. Be the dream. Step by step, breath by breath, I rode myself over the field down the sandy path which led me down toward the end of the rainbow. Smile on my face, I had hardly a clue as to where I was, what I was doing, or why I should go fast. I strode on slowly and spread my warm glowing smile of self-satisfaction all over the arena of life, who amplified the positivity eight thousand fold and sent it straight back into my heart. Oh sweet day, oh great sunshine which stretches over the sky and wraps me in its warm glowing blanket. Thank you so much for the day and for the night and for the trip of life which starts with a cry and ends with a punchline. Upon reaching the end of the trail, I saw the end of the rainbow come into sight. Standing before me the ROY G BIV light show struck down into the ground and melted away into the fray of the living materialist world. Still going the same pace I outstretched my arms and spread my love across the universe. There was no possible way in the world my smile could have been any bigger, any more genuine, or any more true. The tall grass gave way to the low-growing grass of the field. Sitting there at the dead end of the rainbow, stained a deeper shade of green than before, sat my bamboo stick. After a night of fear and loathing and loving and learning and sharing and expanding, my special stick came back to me. Tears of joy drizzled down my face and I, not believing my luck, jumped with joy and howled and moaned my thanks to the universe before and about me. Sitting there, the rainbow shining down upon it, my stick stood there, at perfect peace. I had sent a part of me off into the wilderness of night and now it returned to me in the light of day. I couldn't contain my excitement and inner ecstasy. All of life stood statically still as I stared down the special stick of truth. My eyes turned into high speed cameras as I strode slowly and surely over the grassy field to grab it, half believing that it would dissipate into nothingness before my awe-struck eyes. My hand crawled over it and wrapped itself around the stick and slowly raised it up before the sky. Deep within my chest I felt a warm chuckle flow up from my heart into my lungs through my throat and spew out of my mouth. It started off as a tiny trickle and began to cascade into a roaring river of laughter. Unable to stand any longer, I collapsed to the ground in a state of divine hysteria and rolled around on the ground like a rabid dog having a seizure while begging for a belly rub, completely lost in the loving light of life. I didn't need a stick or any other external projection of myself to feel complete; all I needed for that was a sunny disposition and a warm heart.
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