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It is frustrating, humorous, and truthful in a sad way, that even in my dreams, I get no sex, no satisfaction. I was tortured just last night by two dreamy rooms, both with two partners in them, all copulating with the sounds and shakes of good intercourse. In that dream I went to the bathroom to escape the noise. If it were in real life, I would have looked in the mirror, stared at my face, and disassociated from reality. I find that my dream self is a combination of exaggerated attributes, be they good or bad socially. But almost always, my dream self is a failure with women. Why is this the case when in reality I am not so terrible with taking a girl into that sexy direction? Then, even if I do succeed in my dreams, of getting into a sexual situation, it is soon ruined by sudden and strange circumstance. One time there was an occasion where the older woman is basically mine, and my oldest brother comes out from under a flat sleeping bag, like a daemon trying to take her away. I looked at my own hand, saw my ring, which triggered me to go lucid (consciously in control of a dream) and willed him away. I then proceeded to have sex with two women, but the dream ended soon after the copulation started to my chagrin. When I consider the volume of dreams that have effected my mentality, and have shown me the validity of their meaning, and the legitimacy of my interpretation of their meaning, I get a glimpse of a lifetime. And indeed, dreams and past memories are so similar that they may become indistinguishable with time. When I consider a memory long past, it can be hard for me to differentiate it, the way it looks in my mind, from a dream. And because memories of dreams and memories of life events are memories just the same, they are in fact the same. When we then consider that memories, of either kind, are willed to appear in our minds, and do so in the present moment, it is not difficult to see that memories are an
illusion of a past. In fact, memories have no connection to a linear timeline; they are only impressions left upon the present moment of your brain and mind. The nature of things is to complexify, memories are a symptom of that, nothing more and nothing less. But more interestingly, when we see that memories have no connection to something called a past, and that both dream memories and life memories are equal, we can ask the question, is life and dream experience equal? If we are to honestly ask this question, we must first consider what is the purpose of experience for the system (the brain and so on). To the brain, but not to the conscious observer, experience is experience is experience. The difference is, as we can easily interpret, and commonly experience, memories of both dreams and life experience are virtually the same (the differences may only be contextual, or the exaggerated nature of the events taking place in dreams). Therefore, what is the purpose of memories in general? Memories of life experience are thought to be for learning—everything you do, every time you fall, every experience teaches you something new. Learning then makes sense as the dreams purpose, though it is already an accepted idea that memory consolidation occurs in dreams. The dreams then act as a multi-purpose tool for: experiences that one would not ordinarily have in life, application of skills learned in life, cleared thought to work out problems of life, a form of videogame for fun, and countless other applications that are possible with the complex brain. The question then remains, why have my dreams been so sexual, absent sex? Is this to desensitize me to the nagging desire of supersex, or is it that there is some lesson to be learned about picking up hot girls, and acting on your gut to take what you desire, to seize the universe of universes, the infinity of infinites—to tell me that everything is possible. Either way, or whether or not I am not seeing something that another might see, the point is that dreams are equal to memories, and memories are equal to memories of dreams, and that life is equal also to a virtual game, to a dream of sorts. Dreams or the experiences are the escape from nothing for a conscious universe, and the world of stuff is its own entity apart from that consciousness.
When I dream, the universe dreams, when I die the universe dies. The separation of humanity and nature, and of nature from the universe is non-existent. In fact, we are each representations of the universe itself, experiencing this persistent illusion, this virtual reality; our lives, our stories, our experiences are Reality experiencing itself. The universe, through us, is glorified. When we love there is love in the universe, when we see beauty there is beauty in the universe, and when we see the sacred of the universe the universe is sacred. We also devalue it with negativity. Dreams and life are so connected, so similar, that the difference between them is that one is persistent, and the other is not, that one has intense clarity, and the other does not. Life is the ultimate videogame, and dreams are the mini games that our brain produces on its own, without the input of the other sensory organs. The result is a less complex, less detailed experiential world, with limitations generated by the limitations of the brain. We could then wonder if god is the universal one who dreams as us? Its dreams are our lives, and life having similar limitations as our dreams compared to ITS wakeful moments, and the waking life of such an entity virtually unlimited compared to ours. Consider then also, how else you could possibly exist as you do, if you are not the manifestation of the universe into existence, undeniable, absolute existence. From that perspective, from that premise, that we are microcosms of the universal macrocosm, could we then also come to a conclusion that there must be some kind of universal personality, not fragmented or divided, not male or female, but completely androgynous, beyond sex or difference? The past ideas of god have been inherently flawed and fragmented by the idea of Him or Her, rather than IT. To say it, we can look out at the landscape and see IT everywhere and in everything. We can look in the mirror, consider every particle of our skin and see IT. However, we cannot see what is seeing, and that is of IT too. How else could we exist the way we do if what is seeing is not universal, cosmic, beyond the human body? This is all getting quite grandiose, and to bring it back down to common experience, the question can be asked: everything is changing around you all the time, ten
fifteen minutes ago you were somewhere else, there were different people around you, you had a different mood, your thoughts were different, indeed, everything is always changing, but what is not? The answer is your awareness of it all. Your awareness was the same as it was five hours ago, five days ago, five years ago, fifty years ago, five hundred years ago, millennia ago. It is a function of the space-time continuum. Without awareness or consciousness, the universe is useless, without consciousness, nothing exists. In fact, consciousness is the floor of our existence. Much like space is the floor of our planetary existence, as inconceivable as it was before space travel, it proves that the floor of everything is nothing, that without the intangible emptiness, so full of vitality and possibility, there can be no thing at all. Without the space within the container, no content can be stored. The dilemma of the wise, the philosophers, and those one with IT, is that people are thrown into this world, born a blank slate and therefore fooled immediately by the illusion. The result of that amnesia and gradual ingratiation from birth into awareness is a materialist outlook, because that is the easiest outlook to accept, and because that is the dogma of the cultural programming—though the ones assigning it do not believe in it; in their hearts they know the world outside is nothing like the world inside the mind. Everything is information; every single thing is an event, scenery affected by infinite factors of its parts and its environment, each part being a scenery and event as well, always new, always news, always refreshed and always growing. Because the content is not saved in the things themselves, never in the limited framework of information itself, the universal memory is stored in the space, in the ether. Filled with immense energy, the information in the space is compounded by every moment that the information collectively complexifies. What better saving mechanism could be conceived, than endless emptiness to store it all? However, I digress, the illusion of a material reality is the illusion of personal limitation, disconnected from the reality of your being. You are the representation of not just all humanity, not just all the content in the universe, but of the entire universe you are a representation. We are avatars.
The point then is that each of us is as divine and sacred as we see the world to be, as we understand god to be. Though there exists imperfection in aspects of IT, IT does not have decreased value, in fact its value can only increase with imperfection. Imperfection in the object is what makes variety, because variety is the key to beauty and uniqueness, imperfection in the object is the key to beauty. Imperfection is the key to perfection. Imperfection does not exist; all that exists is this chaotic perfection.
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