July 2023 - 1

 July 1, 2023

B has died. I feel like everybody failed her, myself included. I could have checked on her two days ago when I had a bad feeling. The officer said it was a day or two.

On the surface B's approach had seemed cumbersome, foolish; inside – a beautiful song unheard.

~

The living must continue to live. Drowning under the weight of these thoughts I need to make the most aggressive music I possibly can. Helping B's mom go to her house today. 

~

My dad pulled me out of that nightmare scenario, energetically. Told me not to contact B's mom again, not to drive her back to her car; she'd asked me yesterday if I could stop by for a few minutes on my way home after I said I'd be in Fells for a bit if she needed me/didn't want to be alone. I just love being a healer, love “processing karma” for others. But I don't; it's just their emotions. Although I did hear her life story in the car.

Thinking about these people drains me. I'm saddled with the cats. Exhausted, my personal resources so depleted, I feel I must create something as violent as I possibly can.

~

Life is for the living. The living are obligated to keep living. I think we are obligated to love life no matter what our lot at any given time: maybe that's our only obligation. Nor can we judge a life by its end. It doesn't make sense anymore to think about the future. I feel the shadow of death ever at my shoulder, at my back, having been close to it now. Not like a reaper but a reality. I feel like I can see the veil, in my mind's eye, always waiting there. A ledge. The only ledge that matters.

It looks to me like life is an infinite moment, it is infinite and stretches out infinitely in all directions. Within that infinity is all that we say and visualize about an afterlife.

(the Egyptians must have known the secret that there is no afterlife – the pyramids being about an “afterlife” is perhaps a myth, then, either by the Pharaohs themselves to their subjects or by “historians” to us (their subjects). The afterlife only exists during life.)

Life is infinite, and thus time is not real. I cannot, anymore, describe how or why life is infinite, but seeing it juxtaposed to its nothingness once cut off, I understood that it was.

Life is very soft, like a field of grass, and safe, and stagnant, almost, like a shallow basin, as it hangs so, so vulnerably. It is infinite because it can be cut off at any moment, and once it is, it truly is as if the person never lived. They were here (wherever “here” is) and now they are gone. And there is nothing to say about it. It happens to everyone. This morning it feels like a dream, surreal, to be alive, to be in this life. There's such a paradox – of it being so fragile, truly like a bubble – yet this bubble contains everything, absolutely everything, all of our weirdness and strife and self-discovery, our conception of the universe, and hard base metals themselves. Our conception of death, too. And of birth.

(I may see now why death is associated with mystery – it is more a mystery to us than its counterpart birth, which is like the sun, and also the clearest, only, true living embodiment of infinity: the moment of birth. And death – is taking it all back, all of that life force. Taking back what was given. Implosion. Vacuum. Reverse.

Birth is infinity. Death is infinity. And life is infinity. Death is the negative infinite moment.

I may also see now why S (who is so sensitive and expressive) went on SSRIs after her grandmother died. It is hard to process the void of death – and when it's someone close, the void latches onto you. She is very light and soft, and very much a deep feeler and analytical thinker.

My friends are so much deeper than I understood. I feel shallow, too mind-oriented. I feel guilty for telling so many people and passing on the negativity, of roping them in. I told N, whose reaction shows that he's a true human with his heart intact and in the right place. Just is.

I told F because I associate him with tragic death. Also horrible.

Aa is emotionally deeply mature. She understands about grief. She is the one who, like B, cares “unnecessarily much” for animals – for rodents. The world would be a very callous and dark place without people like them. They are the first level, in my mind, if I understand correctly. Отношения, attitude, sits above talent, in my book. Talent is just a machine. Ability is just a machine that can be used.

~

A person can in a lifetime come close to death, can experience so many transformations, so many eras, can reach a nadir, an end, and then unexpectedly wind up married and in a family life later on – most of this doesn't depend on them at all; it's just that the lines of fate are so varied and “unfair”. And all of this is in life. Death is nothing – the negation of this, including of our “conceptual deaths”. A life can seem so long, when one is inside it. Days can seem so long. And it's a paradox because, suddenly, those long days are nothing. That long middle is over. I see life as a very complicated shape.

What is death, really? An energetic act. I remember when Ai was born – how big the moment felt. The first moments were infinite. The sun bursting into the world. I could almost hear music. I could hear, touch upon this energy of new life, through my dad's voice.

And when I came to B's house to find her, and she was upstairs, dead – immediate chaos.

~

We carry our dreams and wishes with us through every moment. Like B had a dream, a single desire, to be a mother. A dream that permeated her whole life, through her actions and the way she saw, interacted with, the world. The dreams and wishes are the intangible part.

~

The sun is setting. I'm like this – writing all the time. I must. Missions to fulfill. Getting her pets adopted. Writing it all down. But can't forget to get up and live, too.

~

Calling her ex, hearing him cry, getting her mother's call, being so close to the presence of death, to this void – there was an energetic hole, waiting, needing to be absorbed. And I was the one who absorbed it, this chaotic energy. Now I must make something to “defeat” it. To change myself, to free myself of its shadow, imprint, residue, because these things fall and lodge deeply into you (again, Korra and the mercury).

Then there was the part of realizing the fullness of the situation, how her family is, what she grew up in, who she really was that few saw. What a tragedy her death was.

But I will not remember her as a tragedy.

She should not be painted as having been a sick, depressed, unfulfilled person: because under all her difficulties she kept taking in so much information about the human world, and every photo of her pets was a little love-imbued work of art without ever positing itself as such. It needed, asked for, nothing. It just put itself out there, and a few people appreciated what vastness lay in it.

~

I understand more the intangible world now.

In this way, maybe predestination is real.

We do not choose our fate of being married or being mothers or finding love. The wishes for it are something else, something that characterizes us.

It seems to me now that marriage and family life is more often the lot of simpler people.

B's brother, her brother, has a full earthly life, wife, daughters, 4 acres; he's physically active. B, materially, had very little. She had her pets but was otherwise a minimalist, lived in an oppressive city where she was unhappy, in a job she hated, longing to find a nice lady and mostly alone with a host of ailments and medications, frankly, trapped in the liberal worldview that may have caused her death and contributed to her isolation, even though her heart remained open. Looking at a photo of her brother and B as children, it appears to me that, immaterially, their lots were flipped. B was far wealthier, far more bestowed with gifts. If between them there is 100% of “soul material” to be given, B received 80% and her brother but 20% or maybe less. She bore a great burden, both of being weighed with a heavy, complex soul (that ultimately no one, or not many, in the world could perceive or appreciate) and nuanced heart and inclination to read all the time constantly, but of being that way in a family who was not only broken (B and her brother were/are far more normal than their parents', or grandparents' generation.) but too simple to recognize her, and who rather than appreciate her thought there was something wrong with her.

Maybe some things can only be transferred via death. Some secret chambers of a human soul only extracted from by death. Some people only realized, in death. This is why death is such a mysterious act. And why it is negative infinity. The unraveling of life.

Sometimes, people's karma. A full (or deep) understanding of a situation that may otherwise go unperceived – and that, mathematically, how would that ever balance out? Somebody always has to pay. I don't have to pay; I'm the money-changer (energy-changer). A portal back into the void. Maybe I really am. A debt-clearer, or settler? I always have been, since my parents' divorce when I was there for my dad. I feel like I “activate” when people near me are going through a transition.

The truth of B is that under her depression and suffering she actually had, if you removed that, maintained constantly, through every action and thought, a radiating positivity, curiosity, and love. That is who she was. Actually upbeat. Often it's the best hearts in the world whose owners find themselves caught in an earthly bind – the weight of the world; the snare of the world. People are so often not at all what they seem, in reality.

~

Solipsism isn't real. Life births and ends, but there is the “here”, where we all are when we're alive – the contiguous shared world. Created by a very small number of people who are “above the fray”, whose minds are removed (nonsleepers, decoders, perhaps?). To me, this is the only afterlife we have: to contribute to the continuous human world with our thoughts, spirit, song... for seekers of truth to find it, weave it together, keep it whole and intact, bring it into the world.

It makes sense, then, why they say that before death your life flashes before your eyes. It really is the great unraveling – the energetic act opposite to birth, which, we all know how great a “push” that is. Life is how much of the infinite passed through you.

Each infinity is limitless.

Birth – infinite energy. The act of creation, which contains infinite energy.

Death – infinite negative energy. Act of destruction, which that same energy returns.

Life – an infinity deeper and richer than the other two, because it contains manifestation, all that can be manifested. Infinite potential. And we live in this infinite potential.

Our life is what we pull from the infinity of infinite potential. This is why I don't like “loss and gain are the same.” Life is not a zero sum game. Everything is not nothing. There is entropy, and countering it.

Birth and death are equivalent, but what of the third infinity? In it is accumulation. And it's the only one “we” (as we know ourselves) have.

“Only death is certain”; no. Birth is also certain. Our birth is as certain as our death.

And in our death, what we've accumulated unravels. This is why I had to process the stuff with B's family. It was inside the crater her passing left.

 [begin disregard]

Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva – the three infinities. And the 4^th god (the Christian God) is related to the continuous world and what those who are truly religious leave in it – Love, manifest. Love as guide, as organizing principle, as weapon against entropy.

Artists – talent is merely a machine one can use, and without true morality or the Christian (real Christian) worldview to orient it, talented people are simply at the mercy of the forces that would use their machine. Nothing “holy” in it. That's why so many become occultists, or wrapped up in, used by, the occult.

Sex is also an energetic act – a true petit mort – like birth and death, between birth and death, connected to both. I think having a lot of sex ages a person more rapidly. That's why B, N, and I all look/looked so young. Rich spiritual accumulation is possible, nay, happens, during periods of celibacy. Long thoughts. Sustained thought.

~

(I don't like having the cats. The energy they carry – a shadow of the death event. A little shadow of the black hole, that is draining me).

 

July 5, 2023

The energy was so chaotic, when I got to her house. It was like everything was happening now. I acted on that and took the cats home, in urgency. There was such an urgency that I felt. I imagine death could occur differently. In a peaceful way. Someone's passing could leave a feeling of peace behind, when a person came into contact with it. If they have acted right in life; or, it would say something about their life, maybe. On the other hand, whole nations were devastated by the deaths of Letov and Tsoi.

~

I think people are not supposed to do anything fancy with the laws of creation, with the acts of birth and death, with those energies. Occultism is the attempt to be above the law, to use those laws of creation in a way not ordained by God (void?) (there is the principle from which these laws came, and then there is man's place in the schema, and an ambitious occultist wants to defy this because of their self-importance). The laws are not ready to be even comprehended by man; they don't need to be, and they can be understood. But to attempt to manipulate them? For what? Only for earthly gain, or, as Crowley might claim, for ego death, to manipulate the laws of death....

The police officer probably, likely (barring sensitivity) was less affected by B's death than I because I knew her. Is this why there is the sex/rape → death connection in ritual sacrifice? Through sex one comes to know a person (willingly or not). Then, there is debt, karma, to rack up and store upon the victim's death. They key here is being the kind of person (actually, not a person, but a true demon) who can use this rather than be destroyed by it (they end up destroyed by it anyway, the darkness in their eyes). This is why they must worship Satan or rather Lucifer, the one who defied God (orderliness of the laws of creation): they also defy, and he, the deity who defied, is their only protection from the vengeance of God. From law, that is [11/21/24 I no longer think this. Instead I think there is no protection from them from law; we are our own worst punishment. Vengeance is rather their god, and is a strong motivator to live], which, without protection, would immediately destroy them. (But Satan's law if the dominant one on Earth; hence, all is backwards). I don't think symbolism is even necessary, other than to denote which law is supreme in which land – the law of death is abused by creating human suffering (to then harvest) through very mundane, routine practices, through nothing which seems esoteric at all.

This also explains why they use children: life energy is like so:

Children will provide the biggest harvest by far, and if your soul is already warped, you have “nothing to fear”; in fact, if you fear, you don't really trust your lord, Lucifer. People who deny this exists know nothing about the esoteric/occult.

 [end disregard]

 

July 10, 2023

Recap

Extremely nervous to see him, I drove through the mountains and it took forever due to traffic. I was expecting we'd hang out at his place, spend the night there... but I was shocked to find him in his car, stealing my breath in a blue t-shirt and baseball cap. As soon as he got into my car there was tension, but we didn't hug or anything. He was eager to get underway. So he grabbed his things, we drove around to an empty lot around the corner, and I asked him to drive.

I was a little confused and taken aback, but I rolled with it, as I had not had a plan; I thought we'd just be more on the same page about pace. We likely started listening to the extensive collection of media we got through here. We found a motor lodge to stop at through the night, which was better than any hotel or motel. It only had one bed and N said immediately that he'd sleep on the floor. I felt very confused and rejected. The motor lodge had dark brown paneling on its walls to feel sort of like a cabin or from a David Lynch set. I felt bad that N was paying for lodging and had gingerly tried to find the cheapest thing. I assumed we'd be splitting costs the whole trip, but that's not what ended up happening. He paid for every lodge, almost all the gas (I paid when, on my driving turns, it was time to refuel and I got to it fast enough), and almost all the food.

But he looked up some things and we spent a nice hour or so walking down a trail, climbing the rocks, going down to the rocky shore where we looked at the water and there were no sailboats, just rocky coastline with rising hills. In the distance, a long, thick mist that fell down like a shelf giving way to a waterfall. It was still light out.

There was nothing romantic. But N is a real man who is always aware of the situation. He motioned for us to get out of the way for a man and his daughter to pass by. With me, he came to quickly take control. It was very natural... for me. I am somebody else in that kind of dynamic. But when talking dealings “in the world” with other men, he was much more uncertain, less confident, more boyish, though still articulate and coherent/cohesive.

N – whatever his actions really mean – is not like any other man. On the third day (I think) he said I was saintly, saint-like, that I resist temptation. I wasn't sure to what he was referring; the last thing I wanted to do was come on too strong and get rejected. I spent so much time, especially early on, wondering if he was shy. The first three days especially; I was getting used to him. He is very principled. At times, a monster, in his robotic coldness. At times, laid back and casual and a master of language. At times, just a guy; very nerdy sometimes. He probably is actually autistic and I probably am, too, even though I hate the term. After all, I went along with this whole thing. I'm no longer enamored with his persona, "N"; in a way I did successfully move this from online to the real and now I care about and love N, even if he does not feel the same.

I told him, nervously, about having worked in intel and what training was like. After that I started to think differently about School of Breaking, and TIF/TIL, and my reactions and states especially, upon completing TIF and TIL. I told N about those, too. I don't recall if I emphasized that TIL was the result of putting together 7 years' worth of symbols and images, but I did begin to question where those images had come from.

We talked a lot about the occult and specifically its true nature, how it worked (at one point he pointed out that the Exxon logo was 666 encoded), and how many musicians fell prey to it (LUM, Bladee, Led Zeppelin, many other rappers of recent fame). We listened to a podcast about soundcloud rappers and the occult, as well as Death Grips from the start being an occultist outfit. I wonder if N had specifically wanted me to hear that, if he had identified me as someone who had come under some evil influences unwittingly (I said that sometimes it [dark forces, real magical forces] can find you; rather than you seeking them out like Crowley or someone. He agreed, in a way that suggested to me he has also experienced some such things. I began to see something bigger, some order or school of knowledge, that he was part of. And I felt, in these instances and others, in the gray area of the uncertainty of our interactions, that I was being initiated into a way of seeing.

~

Souls from real life sacrificed, fed into, my understanding of certain symbols. That's what it means to pay with your life, or to pay with life. Life does, in fact, have a very real value. From this is derived the idea of money. How was money created?

~

666 is one's control over nature. 5 is the number of the occult, of power. 6 is nature (according to the ancient tree doc). 666 is Satan asserting his control over Earth, his flag.

The only way I can really come to understand esoteric symbols is through my personal life experience, w/ people and situations I've touched. This is why the payment to reality is life.

July 10, 2023

Feeling very removed from the world. That was a consequence of being around N, and with B's death it's even more so. Discipline helps. I have to work at getting enthusiastic about anything in the world. But should I? I feel empty (self-pity). I have nothing and am saddled with these cats. I will be patient. I've hitched my wagon to a man who can't really handle a relationship (and knows it). But I don't know how I'm affecting him. Probably well. I feel like an empty vessel. I'm here to be a teacher/example/helper to others, not to have or make something of my own. That's how it feels. But I still have wants.

The more time passes the more I see only the seekers of truth are for me – those who can see through. That's the only immortal realm, in my eyes – this mental/spiritual continuity, this removed/detached realm. It's a nowhere realm. Between heaven and earth lies the truth.

~

I feel like I'm getting sick and going to die soon. Like she's with me waiting to take me there with her. I feel haunted, removed from Earth. I need to not be at this bar, go home and work on music. Hard to make myself do it.

~

I need to do, think, only life affirming things to stay on this Earth. And why do I want to stay? I still have hope for the love I seek on here, for being together in the real. I read an NDE about, among other things, how everything on Earth is very real, and has to be. It helped.

Across from me at the bar is the sign in chalk: welcome to the world, Sammy -- --  7/5/23 @2:20 AM 7lb 1oz 11” - the cycle of life and death, everpresent, birth and death poking their lances into our hard dream world. The other day I was at Maison Greene wearing the hat I'd bought in Akron, OH, when the (short, very built) gym bro in front of me talking to the barista complimented me on it and I found out it was a hat of the spartan race, a 15 mile extremely grueling obstacle course ridden marathon. I laughed because it's hilarious for me (tiny, out of shape) to be wearing that. Then we all laughed about it. Then the guy said somebody probably died, relinquishing the hat, as not everyone can complete that marathon.

~

These cats feel like paralysis. I can't escape the situation.

 

July 12, 2023

(It's getting harder to write this. I must really compartmentalize and do one things at a time as I feel my life has really crumbled a lot in the past couple months. As always I'm trying to do too many things).

 I dragged us into a storefront that was strange and intriguing, some kind of horror theme. The proprietor was a middle aged thin man. Was there something else hidden “in the back”? It could've been a front, later was suggested as we walked along the river, through a wooded trail. This was unexpectedly nice. We talked about the man for maybe an hour, all along that walk. Even N later, in the car at some point, said that it was nice to have someone to talk to. It seemed like he had romantic interest; it seemed like it came and went, back and forth. There were so many times I wanted to reach over and kiss him, but didn't out of fear. I wondered about it constantly. He was so beautiful to me. Maybe he thought he was too good for me. I was so small compared to him, a tiny fairy, always clean, always organized and neat, never tired (but once or twice), but too perfect, always uptight so he couldn't relax and be stupid around me; well I couldn't be stupid around him. He tried to reject me gently a couple times, when we watched movies and I lay next to him (but made no move) and he readjusted his laptop and kind of manipulated me to go back onto my own bed. Why was he doing this? I was often in this limbo.

Any time during the trip that I touched him on purpose, like leaned my arm against his or touched his arm, he shut down completely, shut himself down, turned to stone. No response. Not even a negating one.

 

July 15, 2023

All I know is that no matter what happens I am obligated to keep living. Even if I have no one. I live out of duty, for God. Maybe one day that duty will turn to joy. Then I believe the sense of time will really disappear while still living. Because you're not waiting for anything.

~

I feel B's absence from the world very palpably. We must have been connected at a soul level; now part of my soul is on the “other side”, in the isn't.

But – death is not our conception of death; our conception of death is emptiness, depletion; in actual death, or after it, rather, since it's not a place or state but an act, there's nothing to be depleted.

~

Working on all my projects is still very pointless and lonely or feels lonely.

~

It's hard not to think I'm going to die soon, as it seems that love/marriage/family are not, from where I can see, in my destiny, and all I'm doing is just to get it done.

I have now seen naked fear, and naked death... what about naked love? And I've seen the “nothing”. The conceptless. The identityless. What we call death, nothingness, apathy, are all human words for depletion and are testaments to one still being very much alive. Only from one's own depletion can someone make something that reaches other people in their depletion – this is the basis for catharsis, for cathartic art – Letov, Chris Morris, depressing songs. That's why it's necessary for some people to be so susceptible to depletion, I think. Still working this out. The deeper the depletion, the greater the catharsis.