Fresh Kills _ Why Me - Day 8

Why Me? - Day 8

It is of course all about me.  But I am pissed.

Why am I in silence here?  If there is nothing passed death except this momentary electrical current feed for the dead brain of a dead body long gone, mixed into the dust of Manhattan, why not pull the plug?

This is ridiculous.  I have been, had been a patient man all my life and now these endless round of nothingness, nothing that matters.  No matter.

Light. Dark.  Past image.  Where is the future?

Is the life after death an eternal round of loop dreams?

“In that dream of death, what dreams will come?”

Well Will Shakespeare, good guess.

Nobody comes this far and goes back to tell a tale of this or is all this an expanded version of what might turn into a condensed version back on the plane of mortals should I have had an out of body experience. Can’t have that now. No body left.

I do recall getting all excited at the age of two or so hearing and seeing relatives coming to visit.  I rushed down the steps too quickly and did a somersault down the wooden staircase of out modest row house in Philly.

I can remember jumping out of my body and watching the whole thing from across the room.  I remember seeing my mother screaming over my still body and then a remember jumping back into the body.  Strange thing.

Is this what ghosts do? Seek?  A place to haunt or a body to possess?  No answer.  Not a question I am supposed to ask?

Well the volume goes up on my thoughts I start to scream for attention to my thoughts.  No answer. But then I half imagine my imaginary playmate as a child coming into reachable communication.

I ask a question.

Why am I here?

A giggle.  God, that was my imaginary playmate’s name, responds sort of.

God explains to me that I am in one of the trapped corners that humanity invented for themselves to hide from the great universal truth.

Universal truth?

Physics. Justice. Fairness. Balance.  Beauty.  Purpose. Etc.

Trapped corners?

More like dark corners?

?

Ignorance hides from the light of reason.

?

Think of yourself as a dot on a chart.  Your life and experiences can be plotted in two dimensions as a line going forward.  If you expand the line to all points in 2D, you can draw a circle.  If you expand further to a multi-dimensional model, you can touch all the points of a sphere.

All the possibilities of mortal existence are within the sphere.  But somewhere along your timeline lifetime you accent fear, you go inside the box.

Box?

The tribe, the clan, the government, the church all want to control the possibilities of your sphere and your infinite range of choices in thought and action within your mortal sphere.  They build a box around every individual sphere.

And?

And then they tell you that thinking outside the box is more dangerous than good. They do this to cull the crowd.  They are always looking for the smart mortals to recruit them for their agenda or to destroy them if they want to expand the sphere and destroy their cage, their box.

Still ???

They say think outside the box.  But the only place they want you to think outside the box is at the six points on a box that the sphere intercepts or touches their patented box, the one they pretend is of your own creation.  You come back with a different explanation for the whole scheme of things and they dump you into the eight darkest corners of their box.

Still ???

Here, they have no total control of the box anymore. You have control.

Since you never challenged much in the group think of humanity, you more or less assumed all the bull crap put out by your parents, community, church, government etc., you fell into the black holes of ignorance of that corrupt mortal plane.

Here in your quarantine, you will come to understand, that you must convert the box of others, the box of ignorance and expand it back into a sphere surrounding the sphere of your life.  Once you do that, you will have more space to think, reason; see what you never saw in the dark corners of the box of ignorance.  In this outer shell, outer sphere, you begin the process to exit through the skin, the veil that separates you from the true hereafter.

What is the true hereafter?

How long does it take? I ask like a whining child.

However long it takes, the space of time divides into forty. 

Silence.

I sense that my imaginary friend God has disappeared into my toy box of things once played with and now discarded.

I begin to ponder this whole situation.

I am here.  And I wonder if I had been some wonderful great mystic or saint, could I have exited life and just walked into the hereafter.

I sense that the answer is no.

Everybody must take the time to re-orientate and reconcile oneself from the past and do the same in anticipation of the future.

Strange how humanity has the capacity to cure poverty and ignorance but never cures it, but many are willing to turn a blind eye or even actively promote ignorance – evil – push others into the darks corners of existence.

An inner voice told me that those who pushed others into the dark must here in this limbo, this purgatory, this quarantine; they must push those others back into some sort of light out of the box and into this temporary sphere of existence. Strange idea.

And what time, time does not exist here, to undo the evil of life it takes, that measure of all things here is divided into forty unites of measure, time etc.

Strange thoughts indeed.

In a way in my time here, I must be putting up poles, like in a tent to expand dark pyramid corners of the box into a part, parts of a new sphere, living space, spirit space. This, in order to orientate myself to another sphere down the road?

Is everything in the universe contained within something else?