01-10-2018, 12:00 AM
as far as bends goes. or as far as earlier decisions that cannot be repeated goes
we are kinda bound.
one of my most melancholic observations is of the sexual power of the male
and how as he ages and the hormonal chemical urge becomes less powerful
that often the energetic and mental desire to still penetrate or be a man does not contract at the same speed as the physical cooling down.
leaving him running around with some astral penis whose turgidity is empowered by his own lost energy.. often times such men seem to content themselves with just having an astral penis even though it is woefully unrepresentative of their own physical ability.
the tradgedy is that our world and its corporeal lattice is one of tesselation.
by tesselation i mean like a jigsaw where there is no actual space between pieces.
although habitual pressure between the collective of pieces creates pockets of consensus in perception
which although seeming like external space are simply indicitive of the greater perceptive maladay.
and these external phallus are not unharmful but are part of the damage of the sexual energy of the female.
i.e. male lost sexual energy is like the lost tip of the knife.. the lost tip of the knife is lodged in a wound in the female.
its not so bad i guess with the respectful male because when he dies and his mental and emotional forms decay.. it will contract in the final hour..
still though.. there are moves we made earlier in our lives which cannot be physically repeated.
the major move which cannot be repeated is the first shift of the assemblage point.
intially the assemblage point is stuck and any movement at all is considered a victory.
but we cannot ever become as stuck as we once were.
to do so we would have to recapitulate both our fluid awareness as well as some dense physical core that ran in parralel to our flights.
to dig to a deeper core of ourselves along the time axis.
and jump again with totality.
you should read the section of theun mares work called "the death of the sorcerer"
it explains quite clearly why the sorcerer ends up chasing immpossible parts of his own percieved energy.. until eventually they move from him to the greater energy of the cosmos. what was once a 1000 bits of self on strings.. becomes a 1000 points of the universe tearing him to bits.
ah well..
spazmo contest anyone.?
we are kinda bound.
one of my most melancholic observations is of the sexual power of the male
and how as he ages and the hormonal chemical urge becomes less powerful
that often the energetic and mental desire to still penetrate or be a man does not contract at the same speed as the physical cooling down.
leaving him running around with some astral penis whose turgidity is empowered by his own lost energy.. often times such men seem to content themselves with just having an astral penis even though it is woefully unrepresentative of their own physical ability.
the tradgedy is that our world and its corporeal lattice is one of tesselation.
by tesselation i mean like a jigsaw where there is no actual space between pieces.
although habitual pressure between the collective of pieces creates pockets of consensus in perception
which although seeming like external space are simply indicitive of the greater perceptive maladay.
and these external phallus are not unharmful but are part of the damage of the sexual energy of the female.
i.e. male lost sexual energy is like the lost tip of the knife.. the lost tip of the knife is lodged in a wound in the female.
its not so bad i guess with the respectful male because when he dies and his mental and emotional forms decay.. it will contract in the final hour..
still though.. there are moves we made earlier in our lives which cannot be physically repeated.
the major move which cannot be repeated is the first shift of the assemblage point.
intially the assemblage point is stuck and any movement at all is considered a victory.
but we cannot ever become as stuck as we once were.
to do so we would have to recapitulate both our fluid awareness as well as some dense physical core that ran in parralel to our flights.
to dig to a deeper core of ourselves along the time axis.
and jump again with totality.
you should read the section of theun mares work called "the death of the sorcerer"
it explains quite clearly why the sorcerer ends up chasing immpossible parts of his own percieved energy.. until eventually they move from him to the greater energy of the cosmos. what was once a 1000 bits of self on strings.. becomes a 1000 points of the universe tearing him to bits.
ah well..
spazmo contest anyone.?