Whole/Part/Part/Whole

Whole.

Part.

 

I enter.

You are here.

I have time and space.

In one sense, the ground is below me.

I come from the churning of the ocean, in the time between yugas.

You aren't especially surprise by this statement. You take it as a given. It's not a scandal; matter can't be destroy.

I could tell you my name, but what's in a cognomen? When I use nouns in my message, substitute any other nouns you prefer using. In fact, lend me your name, if you will.

For example, what I call 'yugas' above if but a rough approximation. Not that we're not in a yuga currently, but rather that yuga and non-yuga are form together; both interdepend on the other. The only difference is that the language of madness only come during a yuga; non-yugas are noisily silent and violently calm.

For the language of madness I use both words as placeholders. The madness--or air, or earth, or water, or fire--lives within all else its opposite--or English, or French, or German, or Italian. Where time space and space time, where Earth is flat but gravity curved, where all is none but none all, is here, wrapped into itself like a Klein bottle lacking a distinguished surface. Remember that all possibilities including impossibilities come to pass earlier or later (though even these designations are subject to everlasting change).

You have me here to tell you what you already know, or will know. Consider this to be the underlining of sentences it's simply too easy to forget. You've heard this before and you will hear it again, and your parents and your parents' parents heard it, and as your children and you children's children will hear it--assuming time for the moment. As it is, now, (always now), you hearing what you forgotten and will again forget. You here with me, stuck with me, in this the perpetual here; but you will soon--in ten minutes or so--move into some other trillion dimensions and be thinking about lunch again and the clock will move its hands. But for this, I have you as my captive. You will not forget because you never not known what I tell you. Here it is now.

Cavemen or astral plane travellers you are, with your senses fallen (but your scales down for this time), hear me speak your words. This is all intimation to you, as it is to me too, to us, to all, to any. We can worship and adore and there's no harm in that even though we are well aware that that which we worship is a representation of the strongly else or the strongly same. When we see ourselves in the future worshipping, we are there, in the future itself, and when we recall ourselves worshipping in the past, we are there, in the past itself. We are thus at all times at once for if we were not, there would be no future and no past and no tense. Further to this, artifices of history let us live--this is not meant metaphorically--actually live, in the past. We could live in the future just as easily if not for the amnesia that ... that ... that I can't really explain. Ah! This must be proof there's another level to it all. I never think about it this way. Let us put that all aside and return to the proof that experience has no limits--not even thoughts about limits. You experience the experiences of all and all at the time as you experience them, includes everyone that "was" and "will eventually be".

We can feel it flow through and around us, we dissociated parts of this great soup. Poke your head above the surface of the waters and see that the sky is endless and coloured all the colours you can see and feel free to make up, necessarily, tales about the colours you cannot see--and you'll find that you aren't making up anything after all. Listen with your ears of imagination to hear to transcribe the thunderous deafening whoosh from which you filter out the cries of children, loved ones, birdsongs, and symphonies, and notate the sounds with any notation you can imagine; you'll come up short, since any scheme of notation is limited and every peep contains a mountain of information. The muchness of it all would easily drive you stark raving mad if you had full access to it, all of it.

There's one great circle, with smaller circles inside of it. (Do you think geometry is some kind of accident?) We are equipped, fortunately fallen as we are, to understand only a handful of possible views at a time--yet we're all aware there's so much more to everything than just what's for lunch. Yet we must lunch, to coin an apothegm, although we know it's the least of matters. While we lunch, we're still in the churn of it; still churning it ourselves, when you really think about it.

You may want to know: what becomes of it all? The universe churns and churns. (Did you think all the elements have been discovered? Heard of that new discovery, plasma? A fourth order of matter ... and that's not the end of it!) We churn through it all, mind and matter together, hand in hand.

There are no doors strong enough to keep anything apart from anything else. Every door is a window to something, and it all, door and window and something, become each other in due time.

These steps will lead you nowhere, since everywhere is circumferenced and everywhere is centred. You want a new compass for thought.

Take a look around you, then make your eyes see very much more.

If I am you, nothing is a surprise.

Everything is gonna be alright.

Make your move.

I exit.

 

Part.

Whole.