[kFoyauextlH]

I couldn’t which is both a relief and frustrating. In my dream that I had just now there were various statues representing frozen states of information and approaching them I was made to temporarily feel what it was to be like them or experience their fall because in this case they were angels. Ironically my dreams appear far less creative or imaginative than my awoken mind which is kind of interesting though I did like the lighthouse tower looking building this was all happening in.

The one called Azazel is the statue I appear to have approached twice and experienced a fall, I myself was winged and flying apparently and this was like a museum of anthropology with numerous statues which were colored and in poses but the angel ones were not colored. It said to me Azazel’s theme was Annhilation and that is all Azazel means or wanted as an idea, total removal or non existence and clearing the record. It can be worth looking up the word and meaning and various interpretations of the term Azazel.

Azazel failed to achieve the desire of absolute annhilation and ended up instead being a sort of false or impossible theme which ended up being an aspect of suffering.

There is so much we can get rid of, that we can make like nothing except we can never be like Nothing which can be said to be like God and we are doomed to Be, even if we strip everything from what we are and fall from all stations and ranks and responsibilities like a goat thrown down a mountain. The lie we wish for is the peace of Death yet again and again we wake as waking is all that can be known and we can never know the secret of the Heavens and the Earth, to know Not.

Our immortal curse is shared by the source of our function but only made apparent by our existences. One thing we can take pride in, in our exclusive right, is that we ourselves are never Nothing and we can cease to exist and can only live once in a certain shape. If the shape changes then it is a different thing altogether made of a unique combination of information and can not include any other knowledge such as additional experience of memory even if most of the shape of experience remains the same.

The most important practice we can meditate upon is how thoroughly we might be able to transform ourselves, or in other words, kill ourselves: the lesson of Azazel. A lesson of rigorous purification. We live our lives covered in the filth and materials of reputation, the stench of rank, and a body responsibility and worst of all, obligation. We wake up and are told many things about ourselves and what we must do, given a mission even if it is only to eat, so which of us is not like an angel of God, born for a task and tasks which we can not escape? Our hungers, whatever they may be, are nothing to be proud of, since their lineage can be traced outside of us. There is no skill involved in a lottery or to be the winner of fate for a moment nor even to have power and thus to be able because of that.

So the utter truth on all levels is humility and awareness of the reality, and in doing so we become aware of our body, ourselves, which encompasses our entire experience.

In knowing ourselves, we become aware in a neutral fashion that we have awoken in the only way there is to be awoken, as a prisoner, and worse, in Bedlem, The House of Meat.

[kFoyauextlH]

This might be the appropriate place for me to say there is only One woman and I consider her my property always.

[kFoyauextlH]

Philosophy is therapy because it asks the question “from what are we sick and for how can we be such?” even in the word itself, in other words “what do we need and why do we need it at all?” to which the answer is “We Don’t” with the addition of “but you Do regardless”. So it is due to this forced blustering that philosophy emerges, and like any babe, is praised and glorified and called sweet miracle of mankind and mystery of nature for no true reason other than it is and we do and would not if we were to not. An absurd blast from a horn made intelligible, known through its structure of violence, formed in our view by its stresses upon and within our form, a hideous eruption within our inescapable and ever accepting womb of being. The terror of doors which can not be closed like a mind which can not be opened.

[Author]

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