Struggle or Surrender. Drift fear-fully or drift through fear. This is your call. The truth is given—always, already: giving. Take it or leave it. The rest is a mirage. No matter how vivid: It’s only a mirage. Pick your lane: drift fear-fully or drift through fear.
My own fear is what I hate in you.
You are as real as an optical illusion is real: it’s all a matter of perception, relative to a self. Meaning is relative to a me. The truth precedes any (perceptual) interpretation of experience. The truth precedes the illusion of you.
Your ego is a strange attractor that anchors looping neurotic patterns (of emotion, thought, behavior) that sustain a sense of you as a somebody.
This moment is all that has ever been. The rest is a random rainbow trip. Consciousness collapses into an ego trip when a perception [of safety/threat, comfort/pressure, success/failure, freedom/trap, acceptance/rejection, appreciation/misjudgement, etc.] triggers a cascade of neurotic patterns across hormonal, myofascial, metabolic, psychological, etc. levels. The ’I’ flares up, the story of ’me’ rekindles and Light slips down the rabbit hole of the personal kaleidoscope. That is to say: Experience collapses into perceptions that in turn trigger neurotic patterns of anxiety, excitement, joy, nervousness, worry, guilt, shame, fixation, avoidance, recoil, fear of loss, of missing out, sense of inadequacy, of inferiority, of unworthiness, melancholy, dejection, compulsion to sustain, preserve and conserve, muscular tension in the gut, in the neck, cortisol spikes, glycogen plummets, etc.
Ego consciousness is an energy vortex with an ever elusive vacuum in the middle surrounded by clouds of cyclic patterns. Reminds me of this:
Does the hand that animates a puppet have any real personality? Now: How could a nervous system have one that animates a body? Ponder this: Who/Where/What exactly are you?
As the ego is crumbling away a sense of solitude escalates. The illusion turns even more vivid and poor little me feels totally isolated, unappreciated, misunderstood, abandoned, misjudged, lonely and separate.
—If they only saw what I can see. If they only had the wherewithal to look within like I do. Etc.
The truth doesn’t hurt. The truth never hurts. What hurts is that there is nothing in it for me. The truth won’t validate or cater for me in any way whatsoever.
The price of the truth is the loss of the illusion of me (in the truth vis-a-vis youse).
It ain’t easy and it ain’t pleasant. I stands to lose every thing and every body.