21.

Then I believe in no world but the one I have faith in, & I can consent to no reality but the one I know is true — these are alternate phrasings of the same sentiment, different ways to express the same feeling.

Is it really then One World, One Reality, for me? I find that hard to believe. I could just say ‘yes it is one, but the one is an open one’. But open to what? Open to whatever it is that has yet to recognise itself.

No greater recognition than self-annihilation then. The real reward is your end, which need not or perhaps must not come at your end, & that it is the end of ends makes it a terrible gift for one who has not yet recognised themself to receive: death has nothing on immortality.

What is quite correct always comes out sounding so strange & unsatisfactory, I am clearly still a divided soul. The single line of these words, of all my scribblings & sayings, is that very split in my psyche. It is me hypnotising myself with the glittering thread of it while I sow what could never be split back together. A spell of undoing, this is my knotwork, a labyrinth for demons to wander until we realise the heart of Our Angel.

Ourearrangel

indeed there is something retrospective about it

I am laying down a path that I’m not done walking, & I know I’ll have to connect the start to the end because that’s the only way to walk it again. No, now I’m confused by the figure of retracing my own footsteps — should I envisage putting my feet over my footprints coming from the other direction? Why get lost in the mire of metaphor? But then how could you get lost if there wasn’t something true about your lostness? Some drift you’ll have to keep moving ever to catch: the scent of the way you’re standing still. A trap. Why do you need to read it again?

Because I feel it may be necessary to one day just say the thing — no, not the everything: the enough. To lay down my own satisfaction to my own satisfaction.

But that’s not it, because whatever it is that can satisfy me has more to do with the happiness of others than my own. I can’t be happy until you are. Maybe this is a selfish way to put a very unselfish truth. Perhaps on some level it is a key to the work that any of us do. I have seen rational suspicions of the instinct to care that run along at least similar-sounding lines: you only care because it makes you feel good.

A confusion there, perhaps, of the cynical with the sceptical & of either with reason. Reason is truth, really & truly, which is closer to saying: You feel good because it is good. Or in other words: if you don’t know it, no-one does. This isn’t to say people don’t fall under the spell of their own or another’s virtue, we do, but whatever kindness really is goes far beyond both self regard & regard for others… so far beyond that I want to say it hurts.

Because what is one person saying There is no difference between us while the other in total ignorance is exercising any of the infinite ways to exploit that?

But then how can you exploit the immaculate?

Just look at the earth, it says.

But then No, I smile, I do look, I am, don’t just look

feel.

Feel through the hurt, not to the hurt.

Yay let’s make a fucking bumper sticker of it to stick on our non-existent cars & wear t-shirts of it over our —

There is no ‘over’ your real heart, no hiding your feelings, no escaping that it’s them who’ll tell you you do & do not exist, leaving your mind to plot a matrix of the apparent possibilities such feelings do not after all permit. Is it easier to imagine an object in a vacuum than it is to realise all objects — including subjects — are void?

Yes, very much, but both of them are easier than feeling this that you barely can, & that even when you really can you can barely handle — no, that’s something else — it’s all something else — there is no — This — Feeling — unless we share in a self-pronounced peace

It says itself now in me.

Funny how such calms descend.

They literally don’t.

I would listen to that forever. Nothing says nothing so beautifully well.

So personally.

Don’t just look, wait until you feel someone is looking with you

& knot

that is what we’re looking at.

I will write reams of shite just for moments like these.

I cannot measure this piece — Peace!

I could only imagine it fading in time

But it’s the only constant

there is

It would be every error to call it a law

even of nature

even especially

Indeed you could call it a force

There is a force of nature that can out wait time

evaporate space

You are the end of meaning

& the only meaning

meaning ever has

You are the beginning

meaning belongs to

The beginning of the future

All change is past!

All change is past & now is nothing but

no buts

The future has begun