We for one of One

They are the workers,
simple time programed lives,
and quick aiding deaths.

I am the product.

I grow in the brain;
where they provide the canvas,
but it's color by number.

And they are we.

wholes and their Whole

Consciousness is the border between oneself and allelse. We are only keenly aware of what goes on to and from our systematic body because of the sorting coherence of the brain. Allelse is fundamentally no different than us, matter and energy universally behave the same, allelse just doesn't posses any sort of consciousness we know of, so we think we are not it. We also think we are not one another, we feel our oneness is our individual selves, when really (relatively) this is only our partness of everything. Everything is one. And we are a part of this everything. We do not feel more than this collective consciousness because "feeling" and "consciousness" are both subject to information and organization in and of the brain, and our brains do not directly join with others using the brain format. Between two brains there are always brainless materials. So we resort to communication to exert our influence over each other and work toward our fundamental oneness. We can choose to behave like an individual, a one, or we can choose to serve the much larger one, the one we are all a part of. Both happen.

Destruction by Design

Pure Expression for a Collective Thought

Self expression is vital to a person's mental health. Each human has their own relative universe concocted by their experiences and understandings, and we are only keenly aware of our point of perception. We must learn to communicate with others as accurately as possible to express and discuss to form collective understandings of everything. Without honest and accurate expression, one's individually perceived universe is isolated among a sea of other individual universes. We as individuals have many tendencies to misthink; that is, to make errors of logic, form biases, not understand, etcetera. An ideal collective thought formed through shared expressions would have been examined and tested from many different points of perception and thus more likely to accurately depict the actual universe; the one from no viewpoint.

A collective thought like this could exist in pure form if humans would be polite in conversation yet not afraid to rationally ponder contradicting statements.

Percieved Poles (Yet Relatively Quite the Same)

No


Stop


It's just a head rush

Jolts of flowing brain creations
Unleashed to of and from myself



Go
If clear
A state I'm glad to be near
Know we flow with the flow of allself and all else.

A Critique of 'Death'

Death exists.
This is one of our few certainties.
The uncertainties pour in when asked to define death. Many people can't. Those who can usually do so through explanations based on faith, because there is no evidence. Some look at the lack of evidence of existence after death as evidence that there is no existence after death.

We are scared of death.
Another certainty.
We may not know what comes after death, but we have suspicions that it isn't this. And this is.
And 'after death' could not be at all. Or it could be different.

Either way, there could be no harm in sticking around.
Fear of death seems to go beyond the evolutionary explanation that we exist because we have the drive to keep existing. Logic based on evidence confirms that it is indeed probably something to attempt to prevent.

What you have just read is fact.
What you are about to read is also fact.
I feel morally obligated to separate these two different types of fact.


I see death as the point where the precariously balanced organic super system that we call life inevitably slows down and disperses. Instead of the containing elements and energies closely bouncing around collectively sending signals, reacting, and 'accomplishing' goals the elements and energies are released and spread across the universe. Acting and reacting to the conditions of everything.
Then come the questions. Is death all that different from life?
In life are we reacting to the same universal constants as our composition does in death? Only in much closer proximity and to an exponentially larger frequency? The matter that composes humans must also be the same matter that composes everything else: they can't act differently.
So is the answer to the question of What is self? the same as the answer to What is everything? Or is there only one truly inclusive question of what, What is?
We is. We may only be able to understand from these hyperactive coded compositions we call bodies when they are functioning, living, but they are made up of the very fabrics that everything is woven with. Whether we be alive or dead, we is.

If My Senses Reach "Reality"

Every rolling moment i Live!
Acknowledging it brings excitement:
there Is something!

Nothing isn't here,
there is always Something here.
But no one knows of There,
And no one knows if Here is There.

I Love Everything;
for i share its Existence,
we All are of the same Existence

Now What?

Snap Action into the Parallel Flow

What's to do worth doing?

What's worth doing to do?

I'm done surviving

so easily

that one couldn't really call it surviving at all:

that is;

there are no actions required on my part to keep 'me' going.

Going.

Going where?

Going to keep going?

Why should 'I' or anyone care?

Nothing's happening at all

'I' am not in control.

The coded sack of chemical flesh

with everything else does roll.

An equal part

yet for some reason

feels experience from behind these eyes.

Complicated inter-reactions

beyond understanding:

this cannot reason before it cries.

To just love those who feed,

and help when in need.

Get out and around to sow the idea seed.

Is that a life?

Or merely a deed?

Attitude is all that decides if i float on or lead.

If i lead is it freedom?

Or inevitability?

I'll end picking worms

off that indeterminable tree.

Upon Waking; The Quest

Where are yesterday's pants?

Where is yesterday at all?

They morph into today's mystery.

Help yourself tomorrow, today.

Demonoid Defense Dictator (Thisfit Drifts)

What is it? What does it mean? Why did the artist put the effort into making this? Does the meaning apply only to the artist? Does the meaning apply to everyone? Does the meaning apply to me? Is it bad if it applies to me? Why is there no description other than an irritating guess at what my thoughts are as I try to dissect the sketch?

Jump The Giant

If I were to prod and startle a giant

Who would jump first? He? Or I?

With his head so high in the sky

With his head so high in the sky

I couldn't reach higher even if i could fly.

He's got the height advantage;

The only advantage.

And I'm down here

Lost in his shadow of fear

Knowing I can't be a giant until I've jumped higher than a few.

What to do?

What to do?
If I can't rise high
I'll surely die.
What to do?
What to do?

I guess my place is in the giants stew.

Upon a Speck

And we're nothing but a speck

upon a speck

upon a speck

upon a speck

upon a speck

and what's special about a speck?

Well if that speck

knows it's a speck

upon a speck

upon a speck,

well then that's pretty special

for a speck

upon a speck

IS THIS EXISTENCE A SOMETHING OR A PART OF EVERYTHING?

If there is something:

Human life begins slowly and memories take time to start forming. Humans don't experience time before they were born and it remains a mystery of where they were when it happened. Humans inevitably die and where they go is a mystery after that. Science says that the "life" of the universe follows a similar path to that of life on earth. Before the big bang there was something that existed without time (everything?) that suddenly set off in a big bang and what we know as the universe expanded faster than the speed of light and is still expanding this very day. The universe is accelerating at a slower and slower speed and will inevitably reverse the process and head back inward until it becomes nothing, or everything. The Universe is all that exists with a specific starting and ending point.

If there is everything:

The odds that everyone exists and is doing precisely what they are doing now is basically 0. And the odds that of all the time in the universe the current time happens to be now, the relatively blink of a moment I (a system of particles) have the ability to think are also next to none.

If this universe, and time are infinite, and all matter/energy are conserved, the particles that make up what we know as self will live on forever through infinite time and infinite situations, dispersing and mixing into life, elements, energy, and everything in between/yet-to-exist.

The Beauty in Meaninglessness

There may be no meaning of life, no one knows if we maintain consciousness after death, and we may be composed of particles that act randomly due to rules that when applied over billions of years formed this, this that is just another small piece of the whole inevitable chain of events of the universe, but at least we are beautiful. Beautiful since the "self" that our code functioning particles collectively form is a complex self-aware part of the universe; we can think, observe, and learn our self.

The Void of Reason Beyond the Door of Meaninglessness

What am I going to do once I’ve opened up the door? I thought as I opened up the door.

When I closed the door behind me, the question had still not been resolved. There was no point of me walking through the door. I thought. But there’s even less of a point for me to go back through the door since I have just gone through it and am not facing in its direction. So I continued walking.

This walking is nice, but it does seem rather pointless, I could be spending this time doing something more. I stopped walking, but the eerie stillness gripped me quite immediately and I began to walk again.

I wasn’t walking in a straight line, but I took special care to make sure I wasn’t going in circles.

Some lights started flashing, competing against each other to reel me in. That light is certainly the brightest and most interesting. I thought as I began to wander toward it.

But then another light hit me. Hard. What was that? I thought as I spun around to face the direction of the pain. There was a large yellow light staring at me, grinning. Then it vanished to be replaced by a red light and I was hit again.
Before I had a chance to react, the light became yellow again and without knowing why I began to swiftly make my way to it.

Every once in a while the light would change and hit me again, but I knew that there was also a peaceful side to the light, and that’s what I was drawn to.

I didn’t realize that every other light was always peaceful, or if I did I didn’t rationally process it. Past that meaningless door lies a void of reason, one just does or does not. So I continued jogging to the only light that had every hurt me because it was unique and offered freedom from itself.

After hours of walking toward the attitude shifting light, I began to grow tired of its antics. Why did it have to keep hurting me? And again, I was flooded with meaninglessness. Why am I walking towards it anyways? What am I going to do once I’ve reached the light?

Because I couldn’t answer I stopped moving.

And I stood there...

For a while...

Until I began to come aware of the inherent meaninglessness of doing nothing.

And then I moving in a direction I didn’t even know was possible.

I was moving through myself.