Have patience and compassion, but be firm and know when to retaliate

Care, Cognition and Action Psychology Spirit and Consciousness Spirituality and Philosophy Story-Verse and Reality

May 28, 2021May 30, 2021philoliasophos

Have patience and compassion, but be firm and know when to retaliate

Violence. The last resort of conscious beings, and the first resort of idiots and parasites.

Although, it’s inaccurate to say even that, because violence itself is the initiation of “force” against someone who has done neither you, nor anyone else, any wrong. In the case of “force” being used as a last resort in the defense of one’s self, and the defense of another, when conversation and discourse are no longer viable because the desire for communication is no longer mutual, that is not violence, but rather self defensive force.

In that sense, one could say that violence itself is something only morons resort to, while self-defensive force is what conscious beings manifest.

The walking corpses of this world – or, in other words, they who do not know themselves, nor even seek such knowledge, and thus are not alive, nor do they even have any desire to live – often do not distinguish between violence and self defensive force (nor generally anything else, either). Thus, those with at least a vague tendency towards something that would at least superficially resemble compassion, omit any application of force, and thus let themselves trampled, while those with more psychopathic tendencies wittingly or unwittingly seize that negative so-called “opportunity”, and become reliant on the weakness of others to carry out their agendas. Either way, it’s a form of self-mutilation, regardless of whether you’re a slave to the ego of another, or a slave to your own ego.

Slavery, in all its forms, should be abolished. However, that’s not gonna happen through means of hatred or in using the dark occultist’s own methods against them. Even if they are toppled through such means – and most often the specific people or entities themselves are (for what goes around, comes around – the cycle of hatred and slavery continues, with the oppressed overcoming the immediate problem, but in not overcoming (or even being aware of) the fundamental issue of unresolved trauma, they eventually tend to become the very things they sought to (rightly) destroy.

I shall tell you a couple stories from my recent (at the time of writing this) adventures, in this life. Like I mentioned in some of my other articles, I think and feel everything simultaneously, in such ways that my body sometimes has trouble managing. I have massive psychopathic and murderous urges (not just tendencies, but rather urges – the sort that require more or less massive effort to not indulge in). Likewise, I am much more massively empathic, and can feel everything that both I and everyone around me is feeling and going through. So far, and to my current discernment, I have never been wrong when it came to recognizing the essence of things, even if I was at times wrong regarding the specific details of particular situations.

Ever since the scamdemic bullshit started, and upon the realization that the majority of the human population in this world is even more retarded and depraved than I assumed before the revelatory month of March, 2020, all the rage, fury and disdain that I’d ever harbored towards this pathetic excuse for a “society”, had come more and more to the surface, to the point that I left the city literally screaming to the top of my lungs. I’d shared posters exposing the scamdemic (to be fair, that particular thing was every once in a blue moon), and also tried to assemble some manner of a mutual aid group in my area, but the quality of the people was… actually, it just wasn’t. Or, if it was, it was shite. So, fuck ‘em!

Anyway, while the message itself that I screamed, “I AM FREEDOM, LIBERTY, DEFIANCE, SFIDARE!!! WAHUURFIII!!! MUAAAH, AHHA AHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” is obviously one that is elevatory and meant to remind both myself and others to always keep our heads and chests up high, to overcome all obstacles and rise above and move on, etcetera… part of the reason behind the screaming (which I was doing before, but not nearly as often or compulsively as since the last year), was because I did not manage to find a better way to release and relieve my fury, without literally murdering people.

For honestly I say to you, I am of the discernment that the majority of drones that fashion themselves as “people” nowadays, are mindless golems who have not even the tiniest glimmer of a vague idea, about what genuine living is about.

Such golems, who come up with phrases like “do not bite the hand that feeds you”, while being wholly ignorant of the idea that the same hand may very well be feeding poison, or trying to beat you up, chain you, violate you, and so on. In which case, said hand should not only be bitten, but torn and ripped clean off.

Even in the case of someone whose literal or proverbial hands may be used with good intentions, we are to always remember that it is our own unalienable right and responsibility to live our lives as we see fit (so long as we do not initiate murder, theft, assault, rape, lying, coercion or exploitation on anyone), and thus if someone’s attempt to “help” becomes a crutch for either involved “party”, so to speak, then a parting of ways is to be done.

So, having left the city and having come to my family’s vacation home in the rural countryside, it was a somewhat calmer environment… for a brief while. You see, even though I am no longer in a 5G soup and concrete jungle reeking of homunculus shite, and am instead much closer to nature… I am also more or less in an environment of wife beaters and animal abusers. Gradually, although soon after my arrival here, my nerves and anger, as well as my general mood, became mostly the same as they were back in the urban zoo.

For the first month or so, I had a constant reminder of how sheep-like the herd of “human” looking golems are, in the form of actual sheep, who were being abused by the shepherd who lives – well… “exists” or “resides” right next to our house. Every once in a while, he’d take a pitchfork and whack the sheep, because they weren’t doing exactly what he wanted, or sometimes because he wanted to relieve some his pent-up stress, I assume. The first time I saw that, especially since he also hit a little baby-ish lamb, I fixated my glance on him and I froze with rage, at once feeling the urge to shout, scream and vehemently jump the fence and kill him then and there – especially since he then retardedly cursed the sheep for his troubles; yet, at the same time, I felt on a more spiritual level, that that is not the right choice.

I resolved, gnashing my own teeth, to wait for a reason to either jump the fence or at the very least scream at him. For a few minutes, my gaze remained fixated on him and the few shadowy parasites or thought-forms attached to his fat ass, saying to myself “Come on! Give me a reason! One! Fuckin’! Reason!”

A couple times, he looked at me, and then looked the other way and went about his business. Later on, I resolved to “prison break” the sheep out of their courtyard. For a few days, I watched the area, seeing when the street lights go out every night, and for how long; inspecting the fence around their yard for ways to provide the sheep with an opening, etc. Likewise, I examined the behaviour and habits of the “neighbours” in question; when they take the sheep out for the hills, when and where they opened the pens, etc. Aside from that, I also sought to get to know their three dogs (two of which were moderately large ones, but no matter) – which they also abuse every now and again. I gave them a bit of meat that my family either eats for themselves, or keeps for the resident wild cat (not a wildcat, as in the species, but rather a species that you’d see around as a “house” cat, that’s wild and has made a home for itself, in our yard). I also made it so that they’d catch a good whiff of my scent when I did so, and attempted to make them lick my hand through the fence, so that they’d become familiar with me, in the idea that they’d be less likely to try and bite me when I’d release the sheep.

I mean, I’d have still done it anyway, because I knew it was the right thing to do.

Anyway, so on one night, I decided to go out and then spontaneously felt like “this is the night”; so, what I did is I went to the spot where I’d planned to release them, opened the gate, and then went to the pen “gate” (made of wood that’s rotted over many years), which I hadn’t seen up close until then. Turns out, it was kept closed with some rusted metal wire or cable, and on some level of my ego, I briefly thought “Well, I’ll do it some other time, after I investigate the area more, during the day.”

Right about the next moment or so, the dogs started growling and barking (they were barking before, but hadn’t come into the section of the courtyard I was in), coming straight at me. It was in that moment, that I smiled to myself and decided, with every fiber of my being: “I am right. I am doing this. I am not afraid.”

So, in a very elated, calm and simultaneously ecstatic way, I casually felt the wire and gate up, and then had it literally fall to the ground with the slightest movement. Then, I got up on my feet and danced around in the yard, without giving a shit if anyone saw me, with the dogs barking and circling around me.

Then, I started enthusiastically shouting “I AM FREEDOM, LIBERTY, DEFIANCE, SFIDARE!!! WAHUURFIII!!! MUAAAH, HAHAHA HAHA HAAH AHA HAHAAAAAA!!!!!!”, although it was with a lot less rage, and it was more with a calm, but firm manifestation of defiance. Actually, I think it more like I firmly raised my voice, rather than outright scream, but anyway.

Then, the street lights came on, illuming basically the whole area of the yard, at which I laughed in recognition and appreciation of both the spiritual and philosophical lucidity, synchronicity and symbolism of our inner lights shining brightly within us, when we’re always being ourselves and doing what is right, no matter what; as well as at the comedic timing of it all. Then, I danced and shouted some more, with the lights on and the dogs still barking around me, but I didn’t give a shit.

When I felt like it, I left the courtyard and that was that.

However, I thoroughly detached myself from those sheep, after that. Why is that? Because not one of them – not a single one of them – took the opportunity to get out and walk into the woods. At which, I was like: “You know what? You fuckin’ lot deserve to be trampled on.” Not saying that it’s right, by any means, and I would definitely not aggress them myself, but if they’re not willing to help themselves, I’m not going to waste my time with them.

I am obviously always being myself, no matter what, and doing what is right, etcetera, etcetera, and will always be myself and do so, no matter what. However, in doing so, I realize that if someone does not want to help themselves, nobody is going to manage to help them.

Likewise, when we want and choose to grow, evolve and elevate ourselves, nobody’s gonna manage to stop us. Because I and we are all and always creating our own stories and realities, in form and veyond form, etcetera.

So, after that particular experience, I started becoming somewhat calmer, at least in the sense that it didn’t require mountainous effort and near constant screaming (“inner” and “outer”) to relieve the fury, disdain and frustration with me.

Then, after a while, and on the same day that I’m writing this article now, I heard a dog loudly whimpering. It lasted for several seconds, if not a minute. I looked over to the neighbor-in-question’s yard (a different one), and it seemed like the two dogs – who were, disgustingly chained, which is fucked up – barked and whimpered in place. One of my initial suspicions, probably from memories of other lives where shit of this sort was a common occurrence, was that somehow a baby or an alien child of some sort, somehow got stuck in a container that the dogs seemed fixated on.

I mused whether or not to go there, as I was kiiinda relaxed (which is relatively rare for me, nowadays), but soon enough decided “Nope. Fuck my mood. I want to see what’s going on and do what is right.”

So, I went there and it turns out that the two dogs that were in that yard somehow managed to jumble up their chains together, and get them partially stuck under a big slab of concrete, to the extent that they were pretty much stuck practically neck to neck, up in each other’s face. They had no room to turn around, nor move more than a couple feet or so – and even then, only with their hinds, ‘cause their heads were pretty much stuck in place, with them not even managing to stand upright, to their full, quadrupedal height.

Also, they were obviously starving and the conditions of the yard they were in were miserable; they had barely any space to wander about, or properly rest, nor even take a shit without having it rot in their face. It was concrete, with many stones right where the dog’s area was. Not a speck of earth or vegetation. While there were two dogs, it didn’t look like it from afar; that’s because only one of the dogs was jumping about and hopping on their doghouse, so initially I assumed they only had one dog. The other one – and I shit you not – was a skeletal, partially hairless little dog, with spots of hair that looked like dirty wool hanging from its body; he also had a small, but open wound on his face (from being bitten or tooth-scraped by the other one, from being hungry, abused and tied together like that – and judging by the way in which they were stuck, I’m doubting that they got stuck like that, themselves). The other one wasn’t faring that much better either, as he was also more or less skeletal, but not nearly as ragged as the other one, who also had many scars, bruises and a patch of blemished, seemingly diseased, “puffy” or “pudgy” skin on his body.

So, what I did, is I got some meat from the fridge (I don’t eat meat, because that means murdering other innocent beings, but my parents still do – even though they’re veeery gradually getting over the addiction to the taste; and they still get some, to feed the cat) and then threw it over the fence, looking to aim my throws in such a way that it gets exactly in their heads’ range of movement; likewise, throwing one piece to one side, and another to the other side, so that they both got to eat the same amount, without fighting over the food.

Holy shit, the way their eyes lit up then they saw me, and how desperately they took the meat, and how utterly happy and sincere their glances were when they looked at me both before and after eating… these creatures are intelligent beings (probably more so than the would-be “humans” who abused them). It is true that you can see the essence of one’s being, in one’s gaze.

So, after that, and seeing as how there was nobody around in the garden at the time, I went up the hills to contemplate, among other things, what to do.

When I felt like coming back, I came back, and I saw a guy around his mid 50’s to early 60’s tending to some bees along with an old woman, whom I assume was his mom, in the same courtyard. I asked about the dogs, and immediately they didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with me, and were making excuses about either why the dogs were in that misery, or pretending not to have noticed. Then, I asked them to take a look and undo the chains or something, but they were like “Nah, it’s fine.” or claiming that they’re scared of being bitten… dumb, pathetic bitches.

Anyway, so then I wanted to walk home, thinking that I’ll keep an eye out for when the son or nephews would come back home (whom they said were gone somewhere, and wouldn’t return home for the day). Then, I saw two girls in and around the garden, and I intuitively felt “Go and speak to her. Go and speak to her.”, right as I was nearing the entrance to our own garden.

So, I turned around and went and asked the girl about the dogs, and wouldn’t ya know it? She brought out her dad, whom was said to be “missing”. Fuckin’ liars. First off, why would anyone lie?! Secondly, why would anyone lie, when they’re not even in any manner of perceived “danger”? I mean, I wouldn’t lie for any reason, even if I’d endure death or torture. This “society”, on the other hand, is built primarily on lies – because the majority of people who comprise it are dishonest sacks of shit. Fuck ‘em!

Anyway, so the guy came out rather hissy, with a sort of darkness seeming to surround him, and I knew something was off about him. The first thing he did, was take a fuckin’ shovel and whack the dogs across their backs, and yelling at them stuff like “Fuckin’ stupid mutts! Fuck you! Pieces of shit!”

What the fuck did those dogs do to you, you fuckin’ piece of shit?! First off, you’re the stupid one, for not being able to discern what actual intuition and intelligence are about (remembrance, knowing and comprehension of ourselves, as both in-form and veyond form freedom, spirit, liberty, consciousness, defiance, etcetera), and secondly because you’re blaming a bunch of dogs for your own misery. So, fuck you and your bullshit! Oh, and he didn’t even manage to discern between actually aggressive biting, biting in self-defence, or the playful sort of “biting” and scratching that dogs, cats and other animals tend to engage in, when they play with each other or with humans. I mean, I got scratched and bit all over my hands, and partially my arms and legs by the cat, when I played with him. One time, it even almost literally gouged out one of my eyes, ‘cause my shoulder-length hair was dangling in front of it – and you know how cats like to jolt at dangly, moving stuff. I’m assuming it has something to do with their hunting instincts, or something of that sort.

However, in recognizing that it was out of affection, what I generally tend to do is playfully annoy and teas it some more, because VENGEANCE IS MINE, and such.

Anyway, so I saw that abuse happen from my own yard, because I did wait around for a bit, with nobody coming out; and with the girl having gone into the house in the meantime, I returned to our yard and went to planning out another “prison break”, this time to get the dogs out – which I’m going to put to practice, if or when I’ll feel like it.

Anyway, so I saw that, and I raised my voice at the guy, telling him “You know, you’re kind of a fuckin’ retard, ya know that?” Then, he started whacking the dogs again, and that was when I stormed out of the garden and went straight to the scene.

On an ego level, I was aching to kill the guy or at least scream at him, throw stuff at him or whatever, but on a soul level, I felt like trying to communicate with him on a more soulful level, as well.

I manifested this combination of empathy and ego, in a way that I told him calmly, but firmly and defiantly, and with the appropriate amount of anger in my tone, that he was being an animal to the dogs and that he shouldn’t relieve his trauma in a way that is vile and malicious, including other living beings like “animals”. While doing so, I also told him to that he should love himself some more, and that being vile and violent towards others is never going to resolve his own inner pains, and is a retarded and evil thing to do.

In between my attempts to communicate with him, he wimpily tried to wave it off and be like “Fuck off! Urgh! Don’t you have your own problems at home? Get the fuck outta here.”, and then eventually more or less begged me to go away, when he saw that the fake teeth he was trying to bare weren’t working.

Which, in addition to it having been a brief interaction of maybe a few minutes or so, was also part of the reason why I chose to not go all rage-mode on him. I mean, what’s the point of sparring with a cripple? Or, in this case, what’s the point of personally explaining spirituality and philosophy, or debating stuff with an idiot?

That said, everyone is infinitely intuitive, intelligent, soulful and spiritual and so on, but in their forgetfulness of who they are, people sometimes tend to neglect their own beauty, and so therefore they express the retarded, fuck-ugly shite and stupidity of their evil side.

However, when we choose to remember, know and comprehend, express and love ourselves, both in-form and veyond form… well, we do it and become aware of our own divinity and beauty.

So, anyway, while he was begrudgingly undoing the dogs’ chains because of my insistence, and then hatefully throwing some pieces of bread at them, almost like he was throwing rocks about, he said something to the effect of “Pfft, look at these dumb dogs. They bit me. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

My response, looking straight into his eyes, was: “The hand that tries to abuse you, though, is not only to be bitten, but rather torn off completely.” He didn’t say a word at that.

Besides, some pertinent questions and things to consider would be, among other things: What is someone trying to feed you? For what purpose? Is it out of kindness? Is it because they have an agenda or ulterior motive? Is said ulterior motive (or motives, if there are more), good or bad? To what extent? Are they likewise trying to abuse, deceive or exploit you while they claim to “feed” you? Is that “feeding” a crutch? Is it poison? Is there any “compromise” being made? ‘Cause, if so, then fuck that shit! NEVER compromise, for any reason.

Always PERSIST, REBEL, DEFY!!! MUAAAH, HAHAH AHAHAAHAH AHAHAHA AHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, at some point, I was like: “Seriously. What’s the point of keeping these dogs? You’re a catalyst of suffering for them, and they’re a catalyst for suffering for you. You obviously don’t give a shit about them, and you also don’t give a shit about yourself. Why don’t you just let them go? I’m up for taking them.”

Then, he sort of said, in a sarcastic and puerile way (sarcasm isn’t puerile, in itself, but I meant they were in combination, in this context): “Pfft, I’ll give you the small one, ‘cause he’s more mindful.”

I shook my head in utter disgust, at blatantly retarded and erroneous assumption that the dog that wasn’t actually biting him was somehow the more “mindful” one. No, the little dog was a little bitch one, while the other one was the more rightly rowdy one. If any of the two dogs were more discerning and actually mindful, they’d attack him head on and immediately. After how much he’s been abusing them, and himself in being the way he is, he deserves to die. I’m not suggesting that I’m going to murder him, but holy shit, he would deserve it.

On the psychopathic level of my character, I’m aching for him to raise his hand or shovel against me, without any violence being initiated on my part, as that would satisfy both my morality (which comes first) and my psychopathy. I was gleefully anticipating him coming out of the garden and challenging me to a fight, especially since he tried to be all “tough” and shit, by saying that “ooh, the dogs earned themselves a beating for later”. I mean, what the fuck? So, you’re abusing someone (in this case, the dogs), and then when someone tries to help both you and them overcome your problems, you see that your bullshit won’t work on the guy, and then you resort to trying to beat the dogs up?

Ooh, I’m waiting for enough of a reason to crush him underfoot, like he deserves. All it would take, is for him to actually try to attack me first, or for me to see him abuse, beat or rape his kids.

If he’d have just raised his hand or shovel at me in a pathetic attempt to “intimidate”, I’d have been like “Do not raise your hand at me, without adequate provocation! Both because it would be vile and immoral, and likewise because – and I warn you – I will gladly and gleefully retaliate!”

I think my firm gaze and energy pretty much conveyed that, ‘cause he didn’t look into my eyes for more than maybe a second, at a time. I was in the right, while he was in the wrong.

Anyway, so after the dogs were no longer in (at least, literal) chains, and were now vaguely “fed”, I went back home and integrated the knowledge of the event, after having left the fuck-up with a piece of advice, as he hurried back into the house.

My advice was: “Love yourself some more.” Well, a better way to have said it would’ve been “love yourself”, because he clearly hadn’t even started to do so.

So, what I’m going to do now, regarding the dogs, is most likely gonna every once in a while check on them dogs and give them something to eat, and intervene again if I see them going through abuse. Or, maybe I’ll do the “prison break” thing, if or when I feel like it. In the meantime, I’ll be making plans and finding ways to get them out, whenever I’ll feel like doing so. Or whatever it is that I feel and discern is good to do. Among other things…

So, anyway, as I was contemplating the event, I integrated something (that I already knew anyway) into the incarnate aspect of my character: my own folly. In this sense, that folly being the fear of letting myself swayed by my own psychopathic urges. While I’m always conscious of my own self, including my own murderous and violent, as well as pedophilic tendencies (yes, you read that right), I am also likewise afraid of potentially letting them cloud my judgement. That’s my one and only fear in all of existence: forgetting myself.

Funnily enough, and aside from all fear being retarded in and of itself, fear is also a state of forgetfulness of self. So, in fearing the possibility that I might forget myself, I’m actually in a partial state of forgetfulness. Even more so, when I get into massive, massive, massive compulsions that border on seeming similar to behaviours that are sometimes the result of brain damage, like compulsively turning the lights on-and-off-and-on-and-off-and-on-and-off; walking several times in and out of rooms, throwing a tantrum towards myself many times, when I step or gesture in some fashion that’s not “stoic” or “mad genius” or “mystical” enough in image, to my ego’s liking.

But then, I break the spell and say to myself: “What the fuckin’ shit is so stoic, genius or mystical about throwing a hissy fit for stepping, gesturing or even breathing in a way that doesn’t satisfy my ego’s image of itself?”

Being stoic means standing proud and strong, in the face of both adversity and abundance.

Being genius means always expanding, evolving and elevating our intelligence, minds and comprehension.

Being mystical is about being more and more heartful, intuitive and creative, always questioning and being curious, remembering, knowing and comprehending ourselves, as both in-form and veyond-form freedom, liberty, spirit, consciousness, defiance, etcetera.

I’m never going to forget myself.

I IMAGINE, WILL and INTEND to always remember, know, comprehend and be myself, no matter fuckin’ what, both in-form and veyond form… among other things…

Why? Because I CHOOSE TO.

To remember the goodness within one’s self, though, one is to also remind one’s self about their shadow self, in addition to the light within.

I used to feverishly desire to kill my own family, who (other than vomiting some of the social programming they’d let themselves indoctrinated with) have not only never once sought or tried to abuse me, but who are also supporting me to this day. I also had the desire to fuck kids, and was even “okay” with the sexualization of children, that’s disgustingly being attempted to be brought more into the “mainstream” nowadays. The only mental reason that I didn’t do any of that during my “dark age” (when I was more or less fully psychopathic), and why I didn’t actually initiate violence against anyone at the time, was because I wasn’t in an environment where I thought it would benefit my ego’s desires. I didn’t give a shit about being “caught”. I still don’t. I never did, and I never shall give a shit about that. On some level, I can barely wait to die (because I know that life and death are illusions), yet likewise I know that I’ll only “die” when I’ll decide that I’ve finished doing whatever it is that I came here to do. Or, maybe I’ll decide to live on after that, in this character and form, too; and, of course, veyond as well, always and veyond ways.

Anyway, so, later on, however, I realized there was a deeper, more profound reason why I didn’t fall for my psychopathy and actually become a murderer, pedophile or child abuser, in this life: I spiritually chose that this life would be one of love, care, knowing, comprehension and wisdom, and other beautiful, beautiful things.

To know the light, one is to see the darkness and not be blinded by it. To see the darkness, one is to see the light, and likewise not be blinded by it, either. Likewise, to genuinely be one’s self, one is to see veyond the light and dark.

One of the ideas related to this article, behind all these stories, is that I have overcome most of my darkness, and so I’m therefore disgusted when someone isn’t at or above my level. Both for egotistical reasons, such as sharing a world with “the dead”, yet also for empathic reasons, which is that I’d much rather people didn’t mutilate themselves.

Yet, I myself have been at lower levels than I am now, yet I view my mistakes as opportunities from which I learned and grew, to become more proud of myself, more defiant and more loving, discerning and kind, wise and proud, etcetera.

Why is it then, if I know that we’re infinite and unlimited consciousness, that I’m furious at people for making the mistakes that I, myself, once did? Either in this life or others. Why is it ostensibly that we are less angry at our folly, yet more so at that of others?

Truth be told, we are actually more angry at ourselves, than anyone else, just like we are more joyous with ourselves, than with anyone else. ALL that we feel and think towards another, we already feel and think about ourselves, in some way or another.

There are two main reasons why that may sometimes seem to not be the case. One: the ego, an aspect of ourselves that dwells in the illusion of “separation”, wants to hide from its own folly, by highlighting it in others and then thinking that it’s somehow become immune to it, because of that. An alcoholic will be quick to mock a heroin addict, and so shall the latter wail on the alcoholic for his own addiction, with both of them ignorant of their own folly. However, it is also retarded to ignore another’s folly, just as it if fallacious to ignore one’s own. The mind is meant to judge, but to do so aptly, it is to be in harmony with the heart and honesty.

Likewise, to aptly and rightly judge another, one is to first judge one’s self. To aptly point out another’s flaws, one is to recognize their own.

It is important to be both firm and confident, yet likewise patient and aware of both our strengths and weaknesses; both for the knowledge itself, and in so that we do not confuse them with one another, and instead overcome our weaknesses, elevate our strengths and grow in consciousness, etcetera, etcetera.

So, have patience with those who “aren’t there, yet”; especially if they’re doing something about it. Besides, yesterday… you weren’t where you are now, either. Have compassion and such.

Likewise, be firm and decisive, knowing when to retaliate and say “fuck you”, and thus not personally waste time with those who’ve yet to even start to rise up from their graves, and especially those who’d keep their burial mounds shut, in their idiocy and self-loathing.

Being consciously alive has nothing to do with whether or not the body is functional.

Living, in the spiritual and philosophical meanings of that word, is about always questioning, remembering, knowing and comprehending, expressing, loving, living and being ourselves, as both in-form and veyond-form freedom, liberty, spirit, consciousness, defiance, etcetera.

To genuinely live, one is to die before they die, and then rise up from the grave, soaring and flying one one’s own wings, and consciously, knowingly and decidedly so.

Remember…

Nobody and nothing whatsoever has any “higher claim”, nor any claim whatsoever, to our lives than we do.

There can be no “chosen” ones, and there are no “chosen” ones. Only I and we can save ourselves, and only I and we are responsible for doing so. All pain and suffering are always self-inflicted, and all evolutions and elevations are always self-facilitated; by us, from us, with ourselves, individually, infinitely and unlimitedly, in every way whatsoever, as well as veyond the very notion and concept of “ways”.

Freedom is never given. Freedom is never taken.

I and we are all and always free and freedom, imagination, will and intent… infinity, divinity, unlimitedness and veyond…

Everything is always a choice, and the choice is always ours to make.

I and we are all and always free and freedom, imagination, will and intent… infinity, divinity, unlimitedness and veyond… among other things……

Always and veyond ways, I PERSIST, REBEL, DEFY!!!

I AM FREEDOM, LIBERTY, DEFIANCE, SFIDARE!!!

WAHUURFIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MUAAAH, HAHAH AH AHAHA HAH AHAHAHAHAHAHHA HAHA AHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHA HAHAHAHAHAHAAH AHHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!