Post by strangler on Oct 15, 2011 5:40:47 GMT -5
Take a deep breath and close your eyes, it’s time to go on a journey…
Have you ever stood alone in a pitch-dark room?
You stretch out your arms in all directions and find nothing, not that you would be able to see it if you did find anything. It’s absolutely silent. You cannot see anything, you cannot hear anything beyond your own breathing. There are no smells, there are no tastes, and all that you can feel is your own body, and, amidst the entire nothing around you, even your own body seems unfamiliar and strange. Can you trust your sense of touch? You cannot see what you can feel and you quickly begin to doubt your own senses. Did you just hear something? Did something move beside you? What was that? Something just flashed past your eyes! What was it? Wait, where is it now?
You turn around and still see nothing. You turn back. Was there ever anything at all? Did you imagine it? Is your mind playing tricks on you? You’re sure you saw something, but now it’s gone and it might never have been there at all. You still cannot see or hear anything else in the dark and even that which you can sense is now doubted. What little you thought you knew… Might be wrong.
You know nothing of why you are in this room, if it truly is a room, there’s no proof that there are any walls, or even a ceiling. You can neither see nor feel them, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t out there, just beyond your finger tips.
Taking a deep breath, you step forwards. It’s a small movement, but the ramifications are huge; onto what are you stepping? What if you are already stood on the only surface in this area? It could be a sheer drop in all directions around you. Tentatively you put your foot down and breathe out in relief when you feel something pressing back, there is ground, so you move your other leg slowly and step forwards, buoyed by this confidence you march further forwards, until a sudden wave of panic hits you; what are you walking towards? What are you walking away from?
Could you retrace your footsteps? Are you safe where you stand? Were you safe where you stood before? Were you stood in front of the door? Have you walked away from it? Is there even a door? Is there even a wall?
The questions now bombard you from all aspects and you quickly realise the one truth that is afforded to you; here, wherever here is, you know nothing. All that you can know comes from your senses, and, here, your senses are far from reliable. Are you wearing any clothes? Can you feel them? Frantically moving your hands around, you take relief in the knowledge that you seem to be fully clothed. Not that anyone can see you, if, indeed, there is anyone else out there at all.
So, the basics have been established. You know nothing for certain, and this is the only thing that you know for certain.
All of a sudden, you are blinded by a piercing, painful light. Your instinctive response is to turn away, to shield your eyes and hide from this light. A natural response? Perhaps, the light is painful, but you have now turned and are staring back into the dark. Is this more painful? The light, blinding thought it was, was something, anything, and now, you’re staring back into the nothing. At least the light meant you weren’t the only thing in existence, and so, you turn back and hide your face before moving towards the light. It gets brighter, and you have to close your eyes to continue, wondering if it is worth blinding yourself to move into the light, to see what is beyond what you thought you knew.
Is it worth it? Only time will tell. Speaking of which, how long were you in the dark? A few minutes? A few hours? It’s impossible to tell, time moves strangely, even if it should be a constant.
Finally, you break into the light, and it hurts. Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, it hurts and you can tell that it’s very bright, and warm, too. You had no idea of temperature before, but now you realise that this room is warm, the light is also providing heat, too. You can hear slight crackles in the air, and you can smell a strange smell, not of burning, but of some similar warmth. Of fire, perhaps, it would explain both the heat and the noise and the bright light, too. You can even taste the fire in the air, a sort of strange, ashen taste. So, are you stood in front of a fire?
Only one way to find out...
Blinking at first, you force your eyelids to open and you take in the scene around you as it unfolds; you’re stood in a busy city street, the sun beating down on you is hot, and combined with the hustle and bustle of city life, and the various pollutants around you, it makes it difficult to breathe. Scanning the streets, you identify the smell of fire as coming from a trash can just behind you, which has been set ablaze, presumably as some act of revolt, or as part of a political statement. Or not.
And then it dawns on you. You were here all along. You were never anywhere else, not on a physical level, anyway. You had closed your eyes and forgotten everything you ever knew. Suddenly, you realise what insight you have lost and you quickly shut your eyes, trying to return to that world of peace and true knowledge.
“Hey asshole! Outta my way!"
You’re brought back to reality with a thud as a rude New Yorker barges past, his should colliding with yours, shoving you aside as he barrels past on his no doubt important errand. The office probably needs more bear claws, or a fresh dose of over-priced caffeine to power the sales division that they might exceed this quarter’s forecast by record margins.
"Who the fuck has time to stand around and daydream?"
Either way, the moment is gone. You’re back in reality with your feet on the ground and a swarm of people milling around you like a sea, threatening to pull you this way and that. You know that this was a glimpse of the divine, a brief step into a world beyond this one, and that as quick as those few seconds were, they will linger with you. You will try to return, but you know it is unlikely that you will ever manage such a feat. The lingering effect is that now you cannot trust your own senses. Is this real? Alone, in the dark, you had nothing but questions and were seeking your own answers; it felt far more real than this manufactured reality.
What you had is lost, what you have is a waste; you have no valid concept of anything any more. Is this real? Was that real? Is anything real? What about that guy? Was he rude to shout at you? Or were you being a problem by standing in the middle of a busy street? Do you know anything for certain? Or is it all second-hand knowledge from third party sources?
What do you really know? Anything? Or nothing?
And if you can admit that you know nothing, then at least you know something for certain.
How’s your head? Does it ache, trying to process all this information into something intelligible? Do you understand any of what just happened? Will you ever be able to understand?
Welcome to my world.
I am Caoran Lavery and this is my life. I know that I know nothing; I know that I cannot hope to understand the divine metaphysical world, but I know that it is pure and good, so I must strive to do so. Even to attempt to reach it is a better life than to carry on here in ignorance as so many people do. What will you do? Will you think differently? Will you see the world in a new light now? Or will you dismiss this and return to your old lifestyle because it’s simply easier? The knowledge that everything you thought you knew is wrong is a worrisome piece of information to digest. To have the very ground beneath your feet removed in such a way leaves you falling into an abyss that you will likely never escape. It isn’t easy and it certainly isn’t comfortable to admit that this world is full of nothing, that this world is truly the dark room. What do you value most? Your health? Your girlfriend? That’s sweet. Your family? Children? Parents?
Do you really value them, or are these just the answers you feel obliged to given when asked? These are the “good” answers, as defined by everyone and no-one, so you can say them and they won’t be disputed. Should you admit to valuing your job you might be considered a workaholic and a dullard, should you value Friday night, then the rumours would abound that you are an binge-drinker and a whore, should you value “liberty”, then you are chastised further for being some sort of new-age hippy, with no understanding of the value of anything. Yet the question still remains, do you mean what you say? Or do you say only what you think you should? How often do you lie? To others? To yourself?
You lie to yourself far more than you lie to others because most of the time, you aren’t even aware of it. That’s what differentiates us as humans from animals, we are able to deceive ourselves. Animals lie and fool each other, this is nature at its most primal, but they do not lie to themselves. Something is either food or it is not; another animal is either a threat, an ally or neither; it is either time to live in the world, or time to hibernate away for the winter. How frequently we tell ourselves that we are “happy”, when we are not.
“I love my job; I’m such an important part of the team.”
“I love my wife; she’s all I think about when I’m driving home at night.”
“I love my children; they make me so proud.”
Really?
Are you an important part of the team? Or are you just the person that does all the legwork because you’re the lowest ranking member? You do all the work and get no recognition; is that what you love?
Is your wife all that you think about? Don’t you ever think about that new secretary at work? The one with the short, short skirt and long, long legs? Do you rush home to be with your wife, that you can cuddle and talk all night? Or do you come home, kiss your wife and then settle down with a beer to watch the game in one room whilst she reads in another?
And your children, they must make you so proud when you get a call from the school telling you that they were caught behind the gym smoking pot. What about the time you walked in on little Stacey and her boyfriend? When you came home from work an hour early and found out what your fourteen year old daughter really knew about sex? How about your son? You were captain of the school football team, a virtual paragon of fitness, popular and boyfriend of the head cheerleader; he’s fat and hasn’t hung out with any friends in years. Are you really proud of him? Or do you sometimes wonder how someone like you could raise a son like him?
Do you tell yourself that you had a good time last night? You were out with friends, knocking back the daiquiris and enjoying life when you bumped into some other friends that were out too, and, my God, Steve did the funniest thing. He’s so crazy when he’s drunk! Wasn’t it so weird to see Allan again after all that time? He’s still the same guy he always was though! Such a total cat! And Megan, too, she’s definitely got the hots for you, next time you’re going to make a move on her! And then there was that Finnish guy that bought you a beer, he was so random! It was such a good night! I can’t wait until next week when we can do it all over again!
Or, did you spend the night drinking yourself into a stupor and waiting until it was late enough that you could make your way home without anyone questioning it? You hate Steve, he’s just a poser and none of his jokes are funny, but you laugh all the same because everyone else does too. Allan is actually a pervert (and, given by his interest in the younger girls that you saw, he’s also quite possibly a paedophile). Megan doesn’t give you the time of day, and she only looked at you when she was dancing with Steve to make a point of how you would never know her. Or that Finnish guy, you don’t know him but he told you how to live your life and then bought you a beer because he was buying one for Sue, and you just happened to be sat next to her at the time. He didn’t care about you, but he thought you needed to sort your life out.
He was probably right.
So, good night then? Was it a “blast”? Or, more likely, was it a complete and utter “dud”, because you would have much preferred to be sat at home with a giant pizza and a six pack, watching "Two and a Half Men" instead? Ashton Kutcher looks set to turn that show right around! Of course, you can’t admit that, because it’s not right to want to watch television alone, you’re supposed to want to be out with “friends” until the small hours of the morning, you’re not supposed to sit up watching “Friends” until you fall asleep on the couch. No, that’s not right at all.
So, you’re a liar. It’s not your fault; you never stood a chance against it. It seems to be some kind of biological defect in our genetic coding, but when confronted with something we dislike, we lie to ourselves. We tell ourselves that, as long as this won’t kill us, we can “survive” it, and that we just plough on until it is over. Last night seemed to last forever and you were so relieved when you got home and crawled into your empty bed. How many times has your first thought been “this sounds good” only to then stop, think, and realise that it’s a terrible prospect? It’s your brain, and it’s lying to you.
That’s why I’m here. I can see all of this; I see the world for what it really is and I see people for who they really are. I see through the masks and the charades and the bravado. I see the truth.
That’s all that matters.
I see the truth, and if you’ll follow me, you’ll get a few glimpses of it too. It won’t be an easy journey, and many of you will give up along the way. I ask the questions that no-one dares to ask, and I give the answers that no-one wants to hear in the name of truth. You will wonder if you truly want to cross over because it seems so harsh, but at least it’s real. Surely a harsh truth is better than the kindest lie?
And, of course, the only truth we can know is that we know nothing at all.
This world is a fake and our words are but lies.
Come with me and I’ll show you something incredible.
…If you want to see it, that is.
Have you ever stood alone in a pitch-dark room?
You stretch out your arms in all directions and find nothing, not that you would be able to see it if you did find anything. It’s absolutely silent. You cannot see anything, you cannot hear anything beyond your own breathing. There are no smells, there are no tastes, and all that you can feel is your own body, and, amidst the entire nothing around you, even your own body seems unfamiliar and strange. Can you trust your sense of touch? You cannot see what you can feel and you quickly begin to doubt your own senses. Did you just hear something? Did something move beside you? What was that? Something just flashed past your eyes! What was it? Wait, where is it now?
You turn around and still see nothing. You turn back. Was there ever anything at all? Did you imagine it? Is your mind playing tricks on you? You’re sure you saw something, but now it’s gone and it might never have been there at all. You still cannot see or hear anything else in the dark and even that which you can sense is now doubted. What little you thought you knew… Might be wrong.
You know nothing of why you are in this room, if it truly is a room, there’s no proof that there are any walls, or even a ceiling. You can neither see nor feel them, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t out there, just beyond your finger tips.
Taking a deep breath, you step forwards. It’s a small movement, but the ramifications are huge; onto what are you stepping? What if you are already stood on the only surface in this area? It could be a sheer drop in all directions around you. Tentatively you put your foot down and breathe out in relief when you feel something pressing back, there is ground, so you move your other leg slowly and step forwards, buoyed by this confidence you march further forwards, until a sudden wave of panic hits you; what are you walking towards? What are you walking away from?
Could you retrace your footsteps? Are you safe where you stand? Were you safe where you stood before? Were you stood in front of the door? Have you walked away from it? Is there even a door? Is there even a wall?
The questions now bombard you from all aspects and you quickly realise the one truth that is afforded to you; here, wherever here is, you know nothing. All that you can know comes from your senses, and, here, your senses are far from reliable. Are you wearing any clothes? Can you feel them? Frantically moving your hands around, you take relief in the knowledge that you seem to be fully clothed. Not that anyone can see you, if, indeed, there is anyone else out there at all.
So, the basics have been established. You know nothing for certain, and this is the only thing that you know for certain.
All of a sudden, you are blinded by a piercing, painful light. Your instinctive response is to turn away, to shield your eyes and hide from this light. A natural response? Perhaps, the light is painful, but you have now turned and are staring back into the dark. Is this more painful? The light, blinding thought it was, was something, anything, and now, you’re staring back into the nothing. At least the light meant you weren’t the only thing in existence, and so, you turn back and hide your face before moving towards the light. It gets brighter, and you have to close your eyes to continue, wondering if it is worth blinding yourself to move into the light, to see what is beyond what you thought you knew.
Is it worth it? Only time will tell. Speaking of which, how long were you in the dark? A few minutes? A few hours? It’s impossible to tell, time moves strangely, even if it should be a constant.
Finally, you break into the light, and it hurts. Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, it hurts and you can tell that it’s very bright, and warm, too. You had no idea of temperature before, but now you realise that this room is warm, the light is also providing heat, too. You can hear slight crackles in the air, and you can smell a strange smell, not of burning, but of some similar warmth. Of fire, perhaps, it would explain both the heat and the noise and the bright light, too. You can even taste the fire in the air, a sort of strange, ashen taste. So, are you stood in front of a fire?
Only one way to find out...
Blinking at first, you force your eyelids to open and you take in the scene around you as it unfolds; you’re stood in a busy city street, the sun beating down on you is hot, and combined with the hustle and bustle of city life, and the various pollutants around you, it makes it difficult to breathe. Scanning the streets, you identify the smell of fire as coming from a trash can just behind you, which has been set ablaze, presumably as some act of revolt, or as part of a political statement. Or not.
And then it dawns on you. You were here all along. You were never anywhere else, not on a physical level, anyway. You had closed your eyes and forgotten everything you ever knew. Suddenly, you realise what insight you have lost and you quickly shut your eyes, trying to return to that world of peace and true knowledge.
“Hey asshole! Outta my way!"
You’re brought back to reality with a thud as a rude New Yorker barges past, his should colliding with yours, shoving you aside as he barrels past on his no doubt important errand. The office probably needs more bear claws, or a fresh dose of over-priced caffeine to power the sales division that they might exceed this quarter’s forecast by record margins.
"Who the fuck has time to stand around and daydream?"
Either way, the moment is gone. You’re back in reality with your feet on the ground and a swarm of people milling around you like a sea, threatening to pull you this way and that. You know that this was a glimpse of the divine, a brief step into a world beyond this one, and that as quick as those few seconds were, they will linger with you. You will try to return, but you know it is unlikely that you will ever manage such a feat. The lingering effect is that now you cannot trust your own senses. Is this real? Alone, in the dark, you had nothing but questions and were seeking your own answers; it felt far more real than this manufactured reality.
What you had is lost, what you have is a waste; you have no valid concept of anything any more. Is this real? Was that real? Is anything real? What about that guy? Was he rude to shout at you? Or were you being a problem by standing in the middle of a busy street? Do you know anything for certain? Or is it all second-hand knowledge from third party sources?
What do you really know? Anything? Or nothing?
And if you can admit that you know nothing, then at least you know something for certain.
How’s your head? Does it ache, trying to process all this information into something intelligible? Do you understand any of what just happened? Will you ever be able to understand?
Welcome to my world.
I am Caoran Lavery and this is my life. I know that I know nothing; I know that I cannot hope to understand the divine metaphysical world, but I know that it is pure and good, so I must strive to do so. Even to attempt to reach it is a better life than to carry on here in ignorance as so many people do. What will you do? Will you think differently? Will you see the world in a new light now? Or will you dismiss this and return to your old lifestyle because it’s simply easier? The knowledge that everything you thought you knew is wrong is a worrisome piece of information to digest. To have the very ground beneath your feet removed in such a way leaves you falling into an abyss that you will likely never escape. It isn’t easy and it certainly isn’t comfortable to admit that this world is full of nothing, that this world is truly the dark room. What do you value most? Your health? Your girlfriend? That’s sweet. Your family? Children? Parents?
Do you really value them, or are these just the answers you feel obliged to given when asked? These are the “good” answers, as defined by everyone and no-one, so you can say them and they won’t be disputed. Should you admit to valuing your job you might be considered a workaholic and a dullard, should you value Friday night, then the rumours would abound that you are an binge-drinker and a whore, should you value “liberty”, then you are chastised further for being some sort of new-age hippy, with no understanding of the value of anything. Yet the question still remains, do you mean what you say? Or do you say only what you think you should? How often do you lie? To others? To yourself?
You lie to yourself far more than you lie to others because most of the time, you aren’t even aware of it. That’s what differentiates us as humans from animals, we are able to deceive ourselves. Animals lie and fool each other, this is nature at its most primal, but they do not lie to themselves. Something is either food or it is not; another animal is either a threat, an ally or neither; it is either time to live in the world, or time to hibernate away for the winter. How frequently we tell ourselves that we are “happy”, when we are not.
“I love my job; I’m such an important part of the team.”
“I love my wife; she’s all I think about when I’m driving home at night.”
“I love my children; they make me so proud.”
Really?
Are you an important part of the team? Or are you just the person that does all the legwork because you’re the lowest ranking member? You do all the work and get no recognition; is that what you love?
Is your wife all that you think about? Don’t you ever think about that new secretary at work? The one with the short, short skirt and long, long legs? Do you rush home to be with your wife, that you can cuddle and talk all night? Or do you come home, kiss your wife and then settle down with a beer to watch the game in one room whilst she reads in another?
And your children, they must make you so proud when you get a call from the school telling you that they were caught behind the gym smoking pot. What about the time you walked in on little Stacey and her boyfriend? When you came home from work an hour early and found out what your fourteen year old daughter really knew about sex? How about your son? You were captain of the school football team, a virtual paragon of fitness, popular and boyfriend of the head cheerleader; he’s fat and hasn’t hung out with any friends in years. Are you really proud of him? Or do you sometimes wonder how someone like you could raise a son like him?
Do you tell yourself that you had a good time last night? You were out with friends, knocking back the daiquiris and enjoying life when you bumped into some other friends that were out too, and, my God, Steve did the funniest thing. He’s so crazy when he’s drunk! Wasn’t it so weird to see Allan again after all that time? He’s still the same guy he always was though! Such a total cat! And Megan, too, she’s definitely got the hots for you, next time you’re going to make a move on her! And then there was that Finnish guy that bought you a beer, he was so random! It was such a good night! I can’t wait until next week when we can do it all over again!
Or, did you spend the night drinking yourself into a stupor and waiting until it was late enough that you could make your way home without anyone questioning it? You hate Steve, he’s just a poser and none of his jokes are funny, but you laugh all the same because everyone else does too. Allan is actually a pervert (and, given by his interest in the younger girls that you saw, he’s also quite possibly a paedophile). Megan doesn’t give you the time of day, and she only looked at you when she was dancing with Steve to make a point of how you would never know her. Or that Finnish guy, you don’t know him but he told you how to live your life and then bought you a beer because he was buying one for Sue, and you just happened to be sat next to her at the time. He didn’t care about you, but he thought you needed to sort your life out.
He was probably right.
So, good night then? Was it a “blast”? Or, more likely, was it a complete and utter “dud”, because you would have much preferred to be sat at home with a giant pizza and a six pack, watching "Two and a Half Men" instead? Ashton Kutcher looks set to turn that show right around! Of course, you can’t admit that, because it’s not right to want to watch television alone, you’re supposed to want to be out with “friends” until the small hours of the morning, you’re not supposed to sit up watching “Friends” until you fall asleep on the couch. No, that’s not right at all.
So, you’re a liar. It’s not your fault; you never stood a chance against it. It seems to be some kind of biological defect in our genetic coding, but when confronted with something we dislike, we lie to ourselves. We tell ourselves that, as long as this won’t kill us, we can “survive” it, and that we just plough on until it is over. Last night seemed to last forever and you were so relieved when you got home and crawled into your empty bed. How many times has your first thought been “this sounds good” only to then stop, think, and realise that it’s a terrible prospect? It’s your brain, and it’s lying to you.
That’s why I’m here. I can see all of this; I see the world for what it really is and I see people for who they really are. I see through the masks and the charades and the bravado. I see the truth.
That’s all that matters.
I see the truth, and if you’ll follow me, you’ll get a few glimpses of it too. It won’t be an easy journey, and many of you will give up along the way. I ask the questions that no-one dares to ask, and I give the answers that no-one wants to hear in the name of truth. You will wonder if you truly want to cross over because it seems so harsh, but at least it’s real. Surely a harsh truth is better than the kindest lie?
And, of course, the only truth we can know is that we know nothing at all.
This world is a fake and our words are but lies.
Come with me and I’ll show you something incredible.
…If you want to see it, that is.