We are heading for the great Age of Unlearning and we do not even know it yet. It will be a very interresting trip.
Not a while ago I crossed paths with the criss-cross forrests we used to cut down before we realized we shouldn't but nonetheless did. Too late to be in the right place at the right time, too early to escape the wrong time and place, this is the epitaph of our generation but who knows anymore anyway. Maybe it truly does not matter anymore.
In the remnants of forrests long cut down and turned into timber, pacing the roads where logs spewed out of the earth, tree bark staining old ground, I had reached that point where you can see your insides clearly and from afar.
"My insides are clean", I could clearly see and in the derelict forrest only the neurotic feeling of enlightenment loomed - the dark beasts of our death we cross paths with in the daylight, like some highlighted passage in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. They await all over for our undead spirit, our unliving force. It is they we must conquer in order to conquer ourselves before someone else succeeds through TV.
There on an outcrop I asked myself the questions our civilisation failed to ask before inventing TV and thankfully I got more questions for my questions than answers for my nonsense; and then I knew that even if our planet is sick, the Universe is still very healthy thank you very much.
If you go into the forrest you must become crazy, your brain must turn to stone, your hairs need to stand on end like roots that plug into the sky, you must spread the fingers of each hand, alternatively and you must let everything boil down to chance. It is an esoteric lesson you must learn and nothing but your devoid brain may teach it to you. The rest is up to squirrels and woodpeckers, to grubs that bloom in tree bark and to lake water of dark green.
I plunged in shallow water, on the edge of the lake where dark seeds of unknown trees floated near the surface. The dirt was clean on my skin and the sun less toxic on the water's edge. I have been to the place, now I can say, where religions were possibly invented, where man played hide and seek with the gods, when the world did not know how to keep count and never filled out an application form. I have touched the edges of our dimension and cannot clearly say if there are more dimensions or dementias out there, or just an array of dementions we chose to forget in the name of our half-baked sanity. Now everything seems to be tottering on the edge of things.
As the fires roam the darkness and your vision mingles with whimsical photons you begin to forget what is light and what is dark, you remain in the shadow that the moon and sun project on the earth through their light and you understand that things have no nature, that we are natural things that are just a whole we are so desperately trying to pull apart out of need for an ill sort of gravity. We are behaving like animals in need of tidy little cages. We have forgotten our natural common sense and our mischevious nature and turned them in, in exchange for cell phone bills and internet porn.
We have sold out the outlaws in our souls that high-jack us in the middle of our dreams and scare us half to death because we have forgotten the most important part of our beings, the part that is so desperately screaming in the dead of night, its rumble falling on dead and fast asleep ears. We have sold them out for scraps and our destiny is our own, prisoners of devices we unwittingly chose in exchange for true freedom.
Here on the edge of Batshitterry, where Unlearning begins, the Sunrise of Apocalypse is clearly visible, rising not over the plains of Armagheddon but over forrested mountains of forgotten memories that surge violently out of olden rock to fill the void of our being. We are on a head on collision course with the past. Prepare to be head-butted by revelation.
The old men in the Bible have gotten it all wrong. Bent over old texts they partially understood.
There are no true monsters and demons, just abused energy we spue without knowing. There are only Jack the Rippers, mass-murderers, business men and the unwitting flock, cronic epyleptics and religious bigottry, cutthroat capitalism and misunderstood philosophers from Locke to Marx. Lenin was a copy-paster and Stalin was a thug. Pol-Pot took more souls than the Devil, so stop believing in lies. We are alone. And we are being watched not by the gods, but by ourselves and we highly disapprove, as each day passes.
This is the age of Babylon fading, of Nonsense fading, when Sound and Fury finally dim down after 2000 years, and we must tread carefully, the morning we are waking to is a mischevious one, it rejoices in havoc, it chooses through chance and it preys on the weak.
Welcome to Batshitterry.
P.S. Head-butts not included. If mentally unstable forget what you have read. If mentally stable forget what you have read. If mental, forget. If stable, deny. If forget then read and then forget. If head-butt then remember and then forget. If bullshit then don`t care. If care then be careful. If careful steer clear of the forrest.
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