Infinity is a Two-Sided Coin

Introduction "By ignoring the principles of the warrior's way, modern man has wound up in a diabolical trap, made up of family, religious and social concerns. He works eight hours a day in order to maintain his way of life. Then he returns home, where the wife of always awaits him, and his children, identical to any other of a billion children, will demand things from him and force him to continue in his chains, until his powers are drained and he becomes a useless object who sits meditating over his memories in a corner of the house. They told him that this is happiness, but he doesn't feel happy, he feels shackled. Be Warriors: Stop that! Realize your potential and free yourselves: Free yourselves from whatever! Don't impose limits on yourselves. If you can defy the force of gravity and fly, that's great! And if you still have the impetus to challenge death and buy a ticket to eternity, that is tremendous! Take a risk! Get out of the trap of self-reflection and dare to perceive all that is humanly possible! A warrior of knowledge makes an effort to be authentic, and he won't accept any compromises because the object of his fight is total freedom." - Carlos Casteneda 2030 Monday, 7th Jan Splint was walking home from the laboratory in the industrial district. The buildings were stereotypically grey and brown and the fog that hurts your lungs to breathe comes from the huge melting towers and also from below through the intricate sewer systems and grids. Everything is cracked and faded and worn. His storm issue rain coat sheltered him from nothing on the walk home. He had gone to work in the dark, and was now walking home in the dark. Daylight doesn't shine through the unopenable brown windows, obviously. But once he was home he went straight to the fire and stoked a flame. He picked up the book from the side and began reading. It was about magic. Yeh, he has an interest in the occult, so what? The flames invoked a feeling of childhood. Staring at the flames for hours in a cottage in a big field. Splint remembered. So what? He lit a cigarette and watched it burn next to the fire. Splint thought he might be a bit of a pyromaniac. But he neither chose to accept it or reject it so everything was OK for a while. Must've been asleep for a while, Splint coughed as he regained consciousness. Today, they had been 'sampling' potentially toxic mushrooms found on the surface of the New Planet. The minute portion Splint took had almost worn off. This was essentially all that Scientists did these days. The government of Earth was a sneaky one. NASA became

officially 'uninterested' in building space ships and built nuclear bombs instead. 'Science' became the study of poisonous substances, chemical weapons, all manner of potentially life threatening stuff. But Splint already knew this, he just kept repeating the same things in his head over and over. Splint knew that his role as a completely under-qualified, mostly drunk 'Scientist' these days involved sampling the fruits of the government's latest 'acquisition', the 'New Planet'. Splint also knew all about the gravity of the situation he was in, which involved a mixture of office politics and an overtly anti-government disposition. His 'friends' didn't really understand him most of the time, he figured they were all robots anyway. No human could take that much New Planet Peyote and still write sentences about how 'spiritual' it was. But then again, Splint had a look through his notebooks and realized they pretty much made no sense either. All he could do was think objectively and that sounds crazy when it's written down. Any forms of hallucinogens no matter where they are in space have the same effect, the same highly personal effect should he say. This was the manner he had become accustomed to. 'Work', write, 'eat', write, dream. In between that there was 'drugs' 'drink' and 'field notes'. The writing was indecipherable nonsense to the untrained awareness. Even then, it was pretty sloppy and bad. Full of plot holes and bad punch lines. Splint had been travelling in his dreams to places he had been before and some he hadn't. He had always been told that dreams were just dreams, but the evidence is otherwise. Splint had found things in his dreams which were there in real life. He couldn't argue with that kind of proof. Sure, it throws your whole perception of reality into question. For example, Splint would examine his beliefs. Nonsense. And yet, beliefs were exactly what he was acting upon. He never realized he could act upon his will. For example, Splint believed that there was a God, but he couldn't prove it. He had managed to overcome his belief that dreams were just dreams and proved that they were not just dreams. To him, those dreams were just as real as the world around him was when he was awake. But then again, Splint knew all this and he was bored. He had remembered something someone had said to him, "intensity beats boredom" and in a second he was writing. Tuesday, 8th January He had woken up late for work again. Splint knew he could have at least one day off, so he bunked in bed and wrote. He wrote about the government of Earth and the culture of Earth which was an intense amalgamation of bad acting, bad singing, bad clothes, bad haircuts, bad storybooks, bad T.V. programs, bad stuff in general. Creativity had officially gone out of the window at the turn of the millennium. He wrote sentences that imaginary politicians would say had they the inclination to speak their minds "Keep working, Here's some bland kid singing songs that were popular, Here's the 5 thousandth Stephen King horror, While you're bored why not take up marginalized spiritual exercises which you can add to your collection of habits, Here's some drugs from Afghanistan, OUR ENEMY" and so on and so on, it really made no sense but he figured he could collect it all up and then write some crazy novel. He wrote down self-help sentences like "Just remember; your eternal chakras are

balanced in-line with the sun, therefore collect your memories and off they shoot off into an explosion of wisdom" they made no sense. They helped no-one. Splint realized that the rest of the world was dreaming when they were awake. He called it "dreaming when they're awake". He told his dog all of this, because his dog wouldn't turn him in. Splint had decided that we don't actually perceive the world first hand, we assemble our perception and then filter it, therefore everyone has their own description of the worldwhich is not the world, but merely a description/interpretation of reality, and therefore all people's problems stem from their description, if you alter people's description of the world then you can solve anyone's problems. If people realised that they were just seeing a description and not reality, then that would give them the impetus to challenge their perception and make an effort to perceive true reality. But who has the balls to do that? Wednesday, 9th January Splint awoke in two this morning. One half was rational, the other irrational. He called them tonal and nagual after a book he read. The tonal was the half of him trying to make sense of the world at the level of conscious thought. The nagual was everything he could not describe in thought or in any form of word, image or sound. He became aware of this, and established a calm centre. From here he could control his perception of reality totally. His internal dialog had given up and left the building. Splint was nothing but pure action. He wrote scores of music, scripts of wisdom, sci-fi novels, pretentious drivel, profound inanities. None of this mattered though, his purpose was freedom, and nothing can overcome the clean intent of freedom. Today he helped fifteen people make life changing decisions. He freed his work buddies from their robotic slumber. Then he went home, lit a cigar and drank some scotch. Thursday, 10th January He woke up in his clothes. He packed his things and headed for the nearest bar. He couldn't leave tonight, he had to wait til tomorrow to get his final pay check. The bar was empty except for a native sitting alone in a corner. Splint bought a drink and sat down. "I'm going to the New Planet, any advice?" "What you goin to the New Planet for? Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" "No, I don't really know why. I'm a scientist, well was, and I wanted to study the mushrooms down there and get my work published on science websites" "That's a pretty stupid goal" "Well, I have to put my goddamn heart into what I do and believe with a passion that I can make a difference" "We have a word for you people, they're called idiots" "I didn't come here to be insulted" "Ok, sorry, please tell me more about how you want to change the world, ha! You're pathetic, see these people here?" "The barkeep, I see him" "We're all going to die" "Well yeh, that's true, so what?" "Well you're not ready to die" "And you think I'm going to die on the New Planet?" "Well, yeh" "But I'm a scientist, it was what I was born to do" "Cut the crap man, the New Planet is no place for idiots" "Who says I'm an idiot, I could kill you in a second" "What with test tubes and mushrooms, ha, you're weak. You are facing a challenge of the spirit, and you're going to wind up killing yourself if you act so fearless" "But isn't that what Jesus would do?"

"I don't know" "Oh right..Natives" "Would you shut the hell up for a second and listen? I'm trying to make a damn point. You have strong beliefs in this science thing right?" "Well, yeh" "And are you willing to die for your beliefs?" "Like Jesus?" "I don't know" "Yes, I guess" "No guessing dumb ass. Are you willing to die for your beliefs?" "YES" "Ok, that's a start. But you still have no idea, if you go tomorrow, you will die on that planet. But not in the way you understand it. You will die and become total. You will find your true purpose." "Is it sampling mushrooms?" "Go home, it's late. Idiot" Friday, 11th January Everything was packed. Splint left his dog have the house and left. He had bought his ticket and was smoking a cigarette looking out into space staring at the purple planet. He dreamed on the ship that he was traveling through infinity. He could see his big blue hands, but when he looked around, all he could see was infinite blackness, dots of white light, a sun, a moon and two huge planets. The New Planet was where his life would begin, properly this time.