• Home
  • Writings
  • Who am I?Good question.
  • Reach OutContact me

The Musings of a Blossoming Alchemist

  • Null

    May 22nd, 2022

    The world has lost its soul

    The divine still has its pull

    But this world is oh so dull

    The wheel continues to roll

    Life passes by in a constant lull

    Nothing here can make me feel full

    It’s taking its toll

    On these things I mull

    And it’s getting old

    How will my life unfold?

    I’m afraid my soul I have sold

    Wanted to break free from the mold

    But right back into it I was pulled

  • And I’m sorry.

    May 22nd, 2022

    I’m about to speak without anything to say

    And you know what? I’ve decided that’s okay.

    Isn’t that what all of mankind does anyway?

    Babble babble babble, of nothing all day.

    I cannot take it, I’m going to explode.

    I can’t even find peace in my own abode.

    It does not matter what they’re all showed —

    The way that they live is limited to one mode.

    They live without a mind,

    Their hearts stuck in a bind.

    Lives so clearly outlined,

    Their souls they’ll never find.

    Doomed to a life inconsequential;

    Never realizing this body is a rental.

    Live that way, you’re considered mental.

    They don’t even realize I’m a homosexual…

    I know I want to leave,

    I know I want to go.

    I want to wear my heart on my sleeve,

    But in this world, it’s a no.

    For so long, I’ve wanted to leave home,

    To set my foot on the path and roam,

    But I’ve been frozen here like a garden gnome;

    I’m starting to develop syndrome Stockholm.

    Just accept that they won’t agree.

    Give up on those on the family tree.

    So go, my wild son, be free —

    Your life is yours to dream.

    I bite the hand that feeds —

    I drink from where it bleeds —

    Forgive my heinous deeds —

    I’m born a different breed.

    I’ve been trying to play the game,

    But my spirit is something I can’t seem to tame —

    I can’t shake the feeling this world will know my name —

    What will be the cause of my fame?

  • This poem makes no cents.

    May 22nd, 2022

    We’re all a slave to the black

    Keep running running the track

    Say you’re done but soon you’re back

    Without it life’s out of whack

    Keep the cogs turning no room for slack,

    See the truth have a panic attack.

    In this world the odds against us stack

    But it’s worth it to buy your new Mac

    Go on the web check out that girl’s rack

    Anything that can serve to distract

    You’re a slave to the system that’s fact

    What can we do to break the contract?

    Open your eyes see it’s all an act

    Don’t be imprisoned by chains of tact

    If you speak your truth you get attacked

    But just do it, by me you’ll be backed

    To tell you the truth, I just wanna die

    Every day I go live another lie

    I’m chained to the game and I don’t know why

    My life’s a series of sigh after sigh

    It’s comforting knowing the end is nigh

    Save the world? Why try?

    Faith in man? Not I.

    I just want to go home to the sky —

    I just want to spread my wings and fly —

    To the fools I want to say, bye bye —

    They don’t know I’m bi,

    And they don’t know I’m not fully a guy,

    Even though I am anything but sly —

    I wanna go out in a dress, no tie.

    I want it all destroyed —

    Where’s my generation’s Pink Floyd?

    But man must hope.

    What else has he to cope?

  • Castaway

    May 22nd, 2022

    Can’t you see?

    All I’ll ever be,

    Is a boy lost at sea.

    That’s the real me.

    And no matter how hard I plea,

    these waves will never cease.

  • ?

    May 22nd, 2022

    The waves of Neptune on me crash,

    Consuming within all that’s brash;

    Purity that cannot be matched,

    From the physical I am snatched.

    All of them, those anchored on land,

    Don’t get it, they can’t understand;

    Like Cobain I’m tethered to Nirvana,

    I look strangely on these foreign fauna;

    Dissolved are my walls, and condemned am I to suffer;

    Between me and the world’s pain no longer a buffer;

    Baptized am I, and I have been made pure,

    Living in this world’s too much to endure.

    Fade into you;

    And you;

    And you;

    And you;

    And you;

  • You will thank me when they spank thee.

    May 22nd, 2022

    I’m a bird in a cage

    Trapped in the modern age

    Gotta contain my rage

    Just go and burn some sage

    Each day we turn the page

    To the same thing written, isn’t that strange?

  • Slave till the grave

    May 6th, 2022

    I’ve been trying to self actualize,

    To leave this grave and arise,

    To sever these ancient ties,

    To claim life’s true prize,

    But on me I feel their eyes —

    They remind me of the life money buys —

    But is it worth it if my soul dies?

    They take me to their house and say, “Look at the size,”

    But they cannot peel my eyes, they’re fixed on the skies —

    Why is my heart something I cannot monetize?

  • Trinkets

    April 25th, 2022

    Perhaps one of the greatest examples of misinformation in spiritual communities online is that of the Loosh Farm analogy. What was intended as a beautiful metaphor, describing how finding Love (with a capital ‘L’) is the meaning and purpose of life, became a perverted source of fear-mongering making people think we are imprisoned on an alien ant farm against our wills. And that’s how it goes; on a much lesser scale, it is similar to how Christ’s teachings were perverted to justify hate and intolerance.

    ​

    What is tragic and so, so silly to me is that people will fully adopt this horrifying worldview without even considering to actually read the damn book by Robert Monroe that explains this in full, and from where this metaphor originated. If you are interested, read his trilogy on OBEs. And if you haven’t, you are not qualified to speak on the Loosh Farm analogy, and it would be irresponsible to assume you are. If you want to comment on the theory, then read the actual theory, and not what someone thinks the theory is!

    ​

    Anyway, I have a way to explain this whole thing that may assuage some of that terror and misinformation. I wrote this while on a walk, observing a bee pollinating a flower.

    ​

    On the “Loosh Farm” Analogy

    The “Loosh farm” analogy is similar to how we eat bee’s honey.

    We simply are who we are, do what humans do, and the spiritual Loosh that is produced is consumed by higher beings.

    Bees do what they do, they’re not imprisoned nor trapped, matter of fact, they fulfill their purpose by making honey,

    And we just consume the leftovers.

    It’s about energy transference in ecosystems. Similar to how we need “lower forms of life” in order to survive, by eating plants or animals. Except, in this case? They do not eat us, they eat our byproduct, similar to how we drink the milk of a cow, the egg of a chicken, the honey of a bee.

    And, similar to how a cow’s milk is it’s best when they’re treated well, and have all of their needs fulfilled, and are their happiest, Loosh is best produced, and actually only produced, when we are at our happiest.

    Loosh is by definition our peak experience — so when we find the highest bliss of our hearts — Love — the Loosh is produced. Loosh literally is Love.

    GASP, we are being forced against our wills to understand divine bliss AKA Love?! Give me a break!

    This is a symbiotic relationship. When we fulfill our purpose, AKA discovering Love, just as bees fulfill their purpose with honey as a byproduct, Loosh is produced. We’re not doing it for the higher beings, we’re just doing it, which enables higher forms of life to find sustenance.

    A bee isn’t imprisoned when making honey. They’re not being forced against their will. They’re fulfilling their biological imperatives. Similarly, we are not imprisoned for making Loosh. As a matter of fact, when you find the thing that liberates you most, or find true inner liberation and bliss, you produce the Loosh. So we are NOT “imprisoned in a Loosh farm” by the archons or aliens.

    This is about ascension.

    It is about the multiplicity of life. The fractal spiral.

    The success of one form of life allows for the propagation of another higher form of life. How could humans survive without the food chain? Without the sustenance provided by forms of life we deem lower on that food web? If our energy sources suffer, we suffer. Their success allows for our success and propagation.

    Similarly, the higher dimensional forms of life that we would deem higher, find sustenance on the byproducts of our existence. Higher and higher forms of life and energy allow for even higher forms of life and energy.

    So, our success as a species allows for a higher form of life to be birthed and maintained.

    Now, what is it that we produce that they would be able to find sustenance off of? What nutrients do we offer that becomes the foundation of their entire being?

    Love.

    The goal of our ascension is to elevate to the level of the beings I am discussing. Becoming a purely light being, a being born of love and light, consisting of love and light. Their existence is enabled by our producing of that love and light, similar to how our existence is enabled by the success of other species.

    This is about the evolution of forms of life in the universe. Similar to how humans (purportedly) would have evolved from single-to-multi-celled organisms, to insect or fish or amphibian, to reptiles, to apes, finally to man, we then evolve to something entirely different.

    Because we are so attached to our human forms, and not the universe as a whole, we naturally fear being used for such a process. We fear the idea that we are not at the top of the food chain.

    And yet, the truth is, we are not the top of the food chain. We just cannot recognize;

    A) the forms of life that are sustained by us, as we are sustained by other forms of life,

    and

    B) that this is a detached, and even benevolent, process, just as lower, less intelligent forms of life enable our existence as higher, more intelligent forms of life. Without the sustenance of plants, animals, and other forms, our existence would not be possible. Similarly, without our existence, the sustenance of the higher forms of light and intelligence wouldn’t be possible. And this is for the greater good — the evolution of the universe — and we will evolve to those higher forms, just not in a way recognizable to us, as the energy transference to those higher levels transcend identity and death, just as the energy and atoms that are YOU were once an apple, an animal, sunlight, etc.

    The loosh farm is about the fact that we are just one level of an evolutionary spiral, in which higher levels are not possible without the existence of the lower spirals. It is our natural spot on the food chain, just as we are sustained by less-intelligent forms. It is an entirely impersonal process. And yet the beings above us are so subtle and pure that they can entirely sustain themselves on the Love energy that we produce. Therefore, it is in even their best interest to awaken mankind to the existence of Love and light. It is entirely symbiotic. Your enlightenment and awakening, your experience of divine Love, is the purpose of this process. Your peak experience fulfills this, and allows for Loosh production, just as bees making honey and fulfilling their biological imperatives allow for us to consume that byproduct.

  • Life is a Pair of Docs.

    April 18th, 2022

    I am like a newborn elder;

    The eldest newborn, the newest elder,

    old as I am young, young as I am old;

    I am as dark as I am light,

    light as I am dark;

    Angrily silent,

    with peaceful shouts ;

    Bitterly soothing,

    I am soothingly bitter;

    My desire to destroy,

    only matched by my desire to create.

    I am a motherly torturer!

    I am both mothered, and tortured!

    I shalt bring you to life through the power of paradox,

    only after the paradox kills you!

    Torturer, and tortured;

    Motherer, mothered;

    I feast on your shadows, and I shit out Gold.

    I feast on your gold, and shit out Shadows.

    I do not know how I could be any more clear:

    My clarity lies in ambiguity!

    My ambiguity, in clarity!

    Nothing more confusing than truth.

    Nothing more true than confusion.

    I speak, and yet I say nothing —

    My silence, deafening —

    I shall show you Heaven past the gates of Hell,

    and Hell, through Heaven’s gates.

    After all, what is Hell, but separation,

    and separation, but an illusion?

    What is illusion, but an aspect of Truth,

    and Truth, but the sum total of all illusions?

    I can teach you to see with blind eyes,

    and taste, with a severed tongue;

    I cannot teach you the unteachable;

    only unteach, the teachable;

    I will be the solvent in which you dissolve;

    I will be the coffin, in which you are layed to rest;

    I will be that which kills you,

    not that which resurrects;

    but I will certainly be the potion of your revival,

    and not that of your death;

    I am both.

    Neither.

    One or the other.

  • Ascetics are the greatest hedonists of us all.

    March 30th, 2022

    It is a myth that they do not experience pleasure —

    The only difference is the purity of the pleasure.

    Ascetics give up, in essence, fleeting pleasure, for eternal pleasure. Pleasure born of matter, which in itself is temporary, bound by death, for pleasure born of light, bound by nothing and eternal. Life itself —

    God is Joy — God is Eternal Bliss — God is eternal Love and Life —

    The only thing that drives the hedonists as we know them to the endless pursuit of carnal pleasure is the lack of this, of God.

    We are all born with a cup — the hedonists, who, for our intents and purposes, are all of mankind, fill their cup with an acidic solution that makes the cups porous —

    But the healing happens when we allow the cup to empty without seeking to refill it.

    Oh, how it aches! It’s nearly unbearable! Am I dying? It feels like it!

    But if we hold — if I hold — on, if I can wait for my cup to regenerate and become a suiting container, if I can make it a worthy vessel for His living water,

    I may never thirst again — I may free myself from this cycle that is life and death, of filling and emptying… if I may resist this compulsion, if I may allow the compulsion to be, if I may be the Self that is beyond the dualistic experience of cycles, and instead become One, become Whole, I will be free.

    If I may die to this self , then I may live as the Self.

    Nobody can know the One without some degree of asceticism, or at least true mastery and full, actual conscious control of the sensory self, as he who is a slave of the world of opposites is bound by the world of opposites, and thus does not know the Oneness, that consecration of the polarities of dualistic experience (specifically in this case pain and pleasure), which is synonymous with God.

    How can anyone know the One if they have not transcended the world of Twos?

←Previous Page
1 2 3 4 5 6 … 9
Next Page→

Proudly powered by WordPress

  • Follow Following
    • The Musings of a Blossoming Alchemist
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • The Musings of a Blossoming Alchemist
    • Edit Site
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar