Felt this on the weekend on a canoeing trip. Been coming out of this months long depression and on the canoe trip started feeling like I was "improving". Realized how the depression and the awesome feeling of improving are linked. Realized how the desire to improve has created the depression and vice versa. Felt as though all pleasures is like a disguised knife through your heart. "It feels so good!" you think. Then you realize it's a knife and your like "oh my god no!".
Experienced this spiral of emotion from high to low to high to low high to low in rapid succession. Felt as though it all leads to the next and it's inevitable.
Felt like this was the law of the universe. There can be nothing. There must be a net sum of zero. There is truly nothing. This is all just self entertainment.
Saw all the images and idols in my heart. Joe Rogan, the alpha male. The Dalai Lama, the ultimate buddhist. Saw how those ideals are just symbols. That they don't exist. The Dalai Lama and I laugh together, because he and I both know that he's me, but that he doesn't exist, that only I exist, that he's a symbol that I've been using in order to drive myself foward on the ocean of change. How my wanting to be the Dalai Rogan creates this suffering of non-self-acceptance.
Decided I want to exit this cycle. That I don't want to be thrown around by this cycle of emotion. Felt as though my emotional winds are the driving force of the entire universe. Decided to see what happens when emotions stop leading me around. Stop the winds. Saw this vision of this spedometer going down to zero. My watch ticking in my ear. The clock face turns to a spiral and I fall down it toward black. Toward death. My visions become beautiful. These are the reasons to live. The universe is showing me that I don't want to die. I am showing myself that I don't want to die. That I want this emotion and that reality. This world. And I must create it. I take solace in these dreams, and then I realise the cosmic joke. When you want it, you can't have it. When you want nothing it's all yours.
The moment you want something you cease to want the moment. You want that not this. You reject this, but that was there in this all along. How? In your dreams, all is present.
The cosmic joke is that love is only possible when the object and the subject are separated.
The cosmic joke is that true love is our deepest desire, but that true love is impossible.
For we are all one, and the object of my love is truly merely myself. I love myself more than I could ever love someone else. And everyone else loves themself too. You only love the part of others that loves you.
My desires fall away. I want emptiness. I want to never strain, to just feel stillness always. In all that I do. Stillness. This is what I want. But even then, my wanting for stillness is non-still.
All falls to blackness. All desires are gone. I am enough. I am all of this and I understand it now. I will never reject myself again, for I know that I am all, and my non-being is an illusion.
Then, in the tropics it is nighttime. The moon shines over a hut on a riverbank. In the hut, there is a master and there is a student.
You are both of these people, but never at the same time. They are both necessary because you love the master. You want to be the master. But there is only a master if there is a student, to listen to him. To be below him. So, you are the student, listening to yourself, wishing to be more like yourself, in suffering.
Then, you stop wishing to be more like the master and you see that you have been the master all along.
The master does nothing. The moment you reach for achievement, you lose the first person perspective of the master, and see him in third person, and then bam, you are the student. Suffering again, trying to be something you are not, trying to create the future where you can call yourself the master again.
For in your mind, you are the master.
And in the world, you are the student.
The cosmic joke is that we are all one. This universe is mine. I am God. Nothing happens except through me. And there's nothing to do.
Go ahead, die. But you won't know your resting because you'll be dead. You'll just come back on the other side, fuelled by your desire to be loved and to feel pleasured. To create this universe you suck love and pleasure out of the unitive fabric of the zero - of the empty universe and package into concentrated packets of apparent purity.
Go ahead, get high.
Go ahead, fall asleep.
Go ahead, wake up.
Go ahead, dream.
Dream on, dreamer.
I leave the trance, knowing that dreams are the best part of life. And that this is the cosmic joke. The pleasant life is one lived at the border of the real world and the dream world.