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The Ecstatic Pleasure is Already a Memory

Human beings are hungry for a kind of ultimate understanding, some kind of cosmic communion, some kind of treasure at the end of the rainbow, a pot goal. We all dive through the looking glass. We all tumble down the rabbit hole with this idea that there will be some final answer, some ultimate meaning, and some noetic quality that is rendered more real than everyday literal reality.

Understanding is a kind of ecstasy & we are cognitive ecstasy addicts.

We are living for these peak experiences, these exhilarating neuro storms of intense intellectual pleasure but these moments, they tend to be fleeting part of the human condition and then, we fall back into the shadow. For a moment, the curtain parts and what had never been seen is devoured by the eyes. It’s distinct, abrupt, framed and it is already a memory.

We immediately memorialize these fleeting glimpses of the eternal of the everything and fall back into ourselves, frail and finite and flawed. I believe the immortal words of Houston Smith but it might be somebody else who said, how might we turn our passing illuminations into abiding light? How might we render ourselves wholly? We have this aspiration to engender godhood, to engender divinity, to become infinite and there’re moments to the tune of the perfect song when the right instruments harmonized together, the right chorus resonates with your heart and with your soul. You get lost in the music, you get lost in the moments and everything becomes one.

These peak experiences, these mystical encounters with the numinous, the mysterium tremendum, a fussing. They vindicate our faith, they make us think yes, yes, yes; there is something more and sometimes in the iris of the lover’s eye and sometimes when exchanging lip-to-lip communication with a lover. I could just die in your arms Jamie wheel calls this, the bliss fuck crucifixion, to die into the moment, to say yes and be reborn.

The apotheosis after the supreme war, deal you overcome, you are renewed, you are reborn and you realize that you are a god. But I could be wrong, it could all be biochemistry, it could all be the secretions and communication and electrical signals between neurons. A rendering a matrix of mind and meaning that at the end of the day, means nothing. Because, we die, we end up in the ground, we rot and disappear forever.

What the fuck, that duality of gods and worms. What do we do? What can we do? How do we have this dance if we know that it’s not forever?

Eternity, that is the supreme desire, nothing is real that is not eternal.

I don’t have an ultimate answer. I take the plunge constantly. I meet a girl, I extend my hand to her’s, I try to play the right song, I say render a wholly moment with me, have this dance, let’s be as gods outside of time, let’s commingle enough with one another in a space that is timeless, that is beyond self, that is beyond you or me, that becomes just us. Let’s render a wholly moment, let’s have the eternal dance and then love falters and then the breakup happens and then entropy rears its ugly head and fuck; what do we do? We get back up and try again, so far that’s what I say, we get back up, and we try again!


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