Conversations with a Mirror...

"God knows everything except where God came from": Alex Jones Everything brings us back to the same question. How can everything come from nothing or something be infinite and neither concepts seem to concur with any human sensibilities. Meaning there is some mystery of everything that our brains can't seem to comprehend as if the rules of the game were made of logic but the reason for the game were made of something else.  The only truth is of course no matter what anyone says or how they say it nobody has any idea what's going on beneath their feet inside their brain and above their head. Maybe at some point in the future we or some iteration of us will know precisely how everything works and why with one little equation.  However perhaps what matters is less about what it is or why it is but that it is. that during this position of time and space  and in this form of matter we can look into the nature of the nature of everything  and see that nothing...

You were on your way home when you died. It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The  EMTs  tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me. And that’s when you met me. “What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?” “You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words. “There was a… a truck and it was skidding…” “Yup,” I said. “I… I died?” “Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said. You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?” “More or less,” I said. “Are you god?” You asked. “Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.” “My kids… my wife,” you said. “What about them?” “Will they be all right?” “That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good...

“Lets suppose that you were able every night to dream any dream you wanted to dream, and you would naturally as you began on this adventure of dreams, you would fulfill all your wishes. You would have every kind of pleasure, you see, and after several nights you would say, "well that was pretty great." But now lets have a surprise, lets have a dream which isn’t under control. Well something is going to happen to me that i don’t know what it’s gonna be. Then you would get more and more adventurous, and you would make further and further out gambles as to what you would dream, and finally you would dream where you are now. If you awaken from this illusion, and you understand that black implies white, self implies other, life implies death. You can feel yourself, not as a stranger in the world, not as something here on probation, not as something that has arrived here by fluke, but you can begin to feel your own existence as absolutely fundamental. ...

There's particular moments that define each one of us. We may not know it at the time, but we learn it later. Every action creates a cascade of reactions. Life is a web of events. Actions overlaid by consequence. And woven across the fabric of time. Future determined by past, past defined by present, present experienced throughout the lens of personal history.

I often wonder about the nature of reality, about our relationship to the creative force that forged the particles of our stars and intertwined them with the molecules of our bodies. Who are we, and where are we actually sitting within the architecture of our universe? Are we alone? Or is the answer simply stranger than we can think? Not to burst your bubble, but the Earth is not the center of the universe. At least not anymore.  You are not the star of your own movie. Humans are not the top of the food chain. And fate is a fantasy. But I can't prove any of this, even if I wanted to. There is an indefinable mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power which makes itself felt. There is an indefinable mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power which makes itself felt. There is... Reality simply isn't what it used to be. Things are not what they ...