📵Without the direct words of a spirit to tell you where you are, can you come to know anything still just by feeling- to construct your wisdom out of disknowledge, piece by piece, by mentally running through paradigms of relatable outcomes, and analogous constructs, just to be juicing out true hardened locks of actual empathy from the process, slowly but surely, to albeit the measure of a low yield that adds up only after substantial time. So you keep up at the task. Considering staged life scenarios, one after the other- answering always to real entities who will call you on your bullshit with due scrutiny. They might even seem as though they want to see you fail. So you don’t. Not because you know it. But because you were had. Because you were cared for. Because you were chosen. Because you are nurtured.

Artwork by Luke Meyer

⚡Knowledge is electricity. Feelings are native theories. Inklings. Suspicions. But as feelings are sensations preceding both our wisdom and our knowledge, our feelings drive the flow of the ether, recirculating the codes and the quanta for ourselves to devour these unique patterns of fractal reflections computing a dualistic braid of perception known as time. Created from within and fostered from above, the only outsider conceivable is a divine guest.

Artwork by Luke Meyer

🎱Deliberate People Manifest. There is nothing that they never do, but rarely do they procrastinate, they machinely thrive in conditions of the grind, and they always love whatever it is that comes for them, even when they’re not brave enough yet to think big enough already to let themselves come to know this truth beforehand. Deliberate people manifest because they obey themselves, honor themselves, love themselves, respect themselves. When we play the games that we believe in, deliberate people expose to those who look it full and hard enough, simply the best.

Artwork by Luke Meyer

👺Feeling out moments for cues of higher guidance in of itself is a qualification of abundance and simplicity. Definitional substance. Presumably the world is a world of completeness. Presumably we are embounded by the geometry of our planet, of our solar system, of our universe, of this spacetime, of the cosmos. Presumably the knowledge that contains us is not a method of real madness. But what we have chosen to regard as our knowledge is our land. And that land is information locked to delusion- delusions of progress, delusions of normality, delusions of righteousness- ideas that make no sense to a landscape that never changes. The world is bountiful and beautiful. 🌎Self-replenishing, and designed to outlast us. Matched only by our grit for inventing grandiose solutions to them, all of our problems arise only because one problem is never solved. Solutions to our problems that we can never transcend, won’t manifest, as every deluded dream must die before it’s born. Our mere articulations of instructional success are anecdotes, just empty depictions of our misdiagnosis by design, diagramed upon shells, imprinting visages of created beings of ourselves- dolls, action figures, masks, hyperrealistic painted landscapes, proverbs, myths, and stories that we will always tell each other perfect narratives that will last forever. Until may come a day that the oldest fairy tales have become regarded as the proof of lower learning, we will still have our humanity. Movies that encapsulate time are portals to feelings of the past. They conceptualize the moments of our times, but in art they must spell meanings that measure elsewhere to the actual zeitgeist, according to ourselves, the insiders of this lost passage to unique feelings of time, conflicting with interpretations of all such pertinent art by outsiders who, arrived here subsequently to follow the shifted state of our zeitgeist that the times had remembered. One knows of the zeitgeist by its presence, through the feelings of the natural essence of the largest palpable flavors that life consists of in our natural focus. Even though our retellings of the past and our nostalgia engines burn for fuel what are movie titles almost even primarily, because we grasp the zeitgeist only as well as we can! Whatever keystone details emerge may let us remember what it felt like to be alive. To be free of attachments to a past. To be cluesless of what the fuck was going on. In the now and, in pure vogue as in through art, we must have to breathe eternal wisdom beyond the portals of our working hands if we must have to hope to make a difference. We are built to run. And all of our fears are truly hogwash. Even the truth of conflict does not disprove this. The hay men, or the scarecrows, and also the crash test dummies that we construct, must have become indebted with the tyrannical task of emulating life, or as that means becoming real. Who, today, can at best, when everything works as we hope it could, scare the birds enough to have them either think our crucified field masters are real, or just at least unworthy of finding out more for that question. 🐦‍⬛

Artwork by Luke Meyer