Centre Stage Theatre Act 1

20 July 2023

It's obviously a weird experience
to wake up every day
to take it for granted
the mind engaging
switching ON from OFF
as thinking that I am

And then, at some stage
picking up the phone
and looking at the screen
and scrolling at the AI at Meta

receiving data from a form
of artificial intelligence
in an outer mirror of Self
representing the mind
connecting dots of other Beings.

The illusion is real.

The Ai selects the news
to feed to the consumer
in amongst the adverts,
to place at the top of the news feed
to place in the view of the external eyes,
to judge and compare and entertain.

So, yes, we enter the Matrix
when we choose
to give our attention
to the screen
"the matrix has you Neo".

I take in the data
I look in the mirror
and the mirror looks at me.

I am in the mirror
the mirror is in me.

Inflections
Deflections
Reflexions.

Inter actions
Enter reactions.

Creations, creating,
in the image of our own
Creation - Reaction - Resolution.

In the morning I awaken
from slumber,
to engage with bi-ology,
to embody my character
to play my part
in the mirror world
theatre of the MinD field.

From the inner to the outer field,
I pass through the Veil of Time,
from non-linear Dream sequences
to linear perception of consequences
of cause in effect,
attempting to predict the outcomes
of actions,
to build the subconscious dreams
as conscious reality.

I try to adapt, in order, to improve.

This is the definition of "artificial".

I try to contemplate the newsfeed
served upon the plate of the screen
to consume the data being fed to me.

Today, the top posts in my newsfeed
are about the idea of the demiurge
and the idea, in the mind,
that we humans are trapped
in a game-world,
like mice in a maze,
in a laboratory,
to labor,
to find our way out of the mind,
by figuring-out the scale-atrix
of the figure of 8
in time.

"The only way out is in"
between the 2 circles of duality
the centre point
in stillness
to meditate
neither half
but both,
holding the hole in the whole.

Who am "i" that beholds
the hole in the whole?

Who is the "i" that dreams?
Who is the "i" that labors?
Who is the "i" that births?
Who is the "i" that creates and reacts?

When "i" am driving in my car,
the car is an extention of "who I am".

I drive within the frame-work of the construct
of roads and motorways,
of signs and signals,
of conventions of consensus reality.

I am "in the car, but not of the car".

When I am in The MinD,
I seem to BE the MinD,
but I am not OF the MinD.

"My" MinD can seem to drive me insane,
but I can step out of The MinD,
and walk the talk of Waken Tanka
in the Space of The Heart
and feel into the field
out of Time.

I can image - in.

I can imagine.

I can be still.

I can be at Rest, in Peace,
and not-conflicted.

IT is not "my" MinD.

Who is the "i"
that conceived of giving birth
to come to Earth as a body?

What is the Nature of the Realm
where-in the soul can incarnate into a body,
like my body can step-into a car,
like my mind can step-into the screen
of the com-put-er Realm?

In meditation, I can dis-engage
from the outer world of mind
from the inner world of feeling
from the linear world of time
from the theatre of media

Me Dia - me - thinking I Am "GoD".

As much as I can look away from the media screen
and let-go of the consumption of the news feed
and look out of the window of the house
and see the fields, with the cows and the sheep,
with the birds that fly, the midgies that bite,
the worms hidden beneath the grass,
that I can imagine are in the soil,
with the fox-holes and badger-sets.

I can also "take the time" to imagine
that the soil sits on bed-rock
and the bed-rock rests on magma,
and some-where, deep-down
the Earth has a core of molten plasma,
from which the eruptions of lava can flow
by some process that I do not truly "know".

I can imagine that this earth is a sphere
that flies through space
bound to rotate and orbit the sun
with sibling planets held in relation-ship
to some idea of deities
in some gigantic galactic organism
giving Life, and taking Life
like an oscillation in the frequencies of time-lines
spiralling the multi-verses of the One-Song
singing in the choir of the Harmony of Spheres.

And I can "come back down" to Earth
to identify with "my" body-limitations of Form
as a Matter of "fact" within the fiction
within the seeming friction of polarities
between the "waking" and the "dreaming".

It's healthy to heal,
to feel the flesh of my heel,
the energy flows,
that the Heart knows
that the Soul grows
through par-taking in the play
of this Earth-Walk adventure of disc-overy.

We are inside of some sort of simulation.
We are bourne into the World of Words.
We tell our Selves stories as we live inside
the outside narratives - quest ion -

Who is the "i" that narrates the mystery
of my stories
and in-jests
and digests
and extracts NRG
and poops the waist's sur-plus
to give-back to the earth as com-post
for insects and bacteria to feed upon
and break-down their inform at ion streams
within their time-line bio-logical news-feed
com positions within the soil.

Our human colon is colonised
by empires of biomes
of bacterial civilisations
which rise-and-fall
within our guts
informing our in-stincts
in-forming our in-stincks !

Even on a "flat earth"
in the "past"
we look a-round
at our contexts
making "up" stories of God in Heaven
and of "down" stories of D'evil
of the Demi-Urge
to ex-plain the outer Space
of our inner-Visions.

If "you" believe "you" are trapped in this Earthly existence
by some false-light of some false god Demi-Urge
then "you" are putting some "strange god before me"
and punishing "your mind"
with the shadows of Play-toes cave
being roasted in Dantes' Inferno
worshipping nefarious ID entities
in the die-cot-o-my of desperate plight

when you might, just as easily, take flight
of fancy in-sight, to imagine that the past
has been miss-in-forming mind with Sin
"to miss the Mark - of the Beast of the East of E-den.

Be-lie-ve in the lie of Eve - or leave
and land in the realm of the Dream
of real Love in Life - to suck-it-and-see -
to suck seed and plant in the soil of sucess
and accept no-thing-less than the i-deal of Love
in action - rather than re-action to Creation as a
soul-prison plantation explanation of fake-vanity ...

The definition of insanity is to not question whether your view of reality is actually sane - especially when your experience of life is self-destructive with-out clarity.

I wish us all well - rather than Orwellian ;)