Conceptives, Words

It is fairly common to acknowledge the enslavement, a simple drug addiction coils on a human. Just as it is fairly common to acknowledge, that a drive or wish or desire of feeling free, is what leads to the drug addiction. Free from pain, free from problems, free from hamster wheel life, free from restraints of mind, et cetera. The twisted logic of feeling free in enslavement, as seen in drug addiction. Cognitive dissonance. The addicted mind convinces the Self,  that it is getting what it seeks, the feeling of being free.

All smokers know this feeling, bound in addiction to nicotine and other nasty compounds, the smoker’s mind convinces the Self of the great deception of feeling free.

Just like smokers, all citizens know this feeling too, regardless if it is recognized by the Self. It is this feeling, this dissonance, this lunacy of addiction, that drives and creates citizens.

Creating dependencies and addictions is an excellent way of controlling humans. State creates the illusion of providing freedom of care, safety and order, lawfulness and control. Governments and parliaments creates the illusion of providing freedom from tyranny and control, by allowing us to vote for our own masters. (who by the way, are unbelievably sick people, who kill millions of humans and loot the planet) Preying on deeply rooted needs in humans, these dependencies, along with the addiction to authority, is pushed on us from the moment we are born. Children are sent to programming as much as 8 hours a day. We proudly bring forced programming on children all over the world. Proudly we brag about it, as a measure of how free and good we are.

The telling sign of this being an addiction is how it is defended and explained with freedom. Arguments for this enslaving addiction is again freedom. The addicted mind convincing the Self it is getting what it desires, freedom from its enslavement.

Addicted to authority, we celebrate our enslavement with feasts of feeling free.

Got a cause?

Conceptives, Words

Hey You! Yeah You!

Got a cause? How is your idealism balance? Got plenty to spare?

Well, have I got an offer for you then. Invisible Combo Sunglasses and Blinders. With our Invisible Combo Goggles you can protect your blind spot and shade out any light of doubt or skepticism. Invisible for your privacy, so you can maintain your appearance of open mindedness and healthy curiosity.

To be invested in a cause means to protect and nurture a blind spot. When on a mission or on a path, brain blinders takes over in the name of focus. It feels good to be on a path, it adds meaning, and meaning is addictive and soothing. There is a goal, you are on the right path, the trot is one long stream of endorphin. You are focused. And completely blind.

Ego loves these blind spots. The Ego sweet spot. I am on the right path. Ego Fertilizer.

Causes leads to blindness. Paths leads to mindless walking. Missions leads to goals. The human brain is great at focusing when it gets stimulated and rewarded. The more dead set you are on this or that, nurturing and protecting, defending and growing that blind spot, the more blind you become. You have given birth to a Truth, and will, for as long as it exists, be a slave to it. In the name of Truth, you are no longer free.

The truth shall set you free. Bah humbug.

Ego eats Idealism. Idealism is the very fabric blind spots are build of. If your sight is infected with Idealism, there is hope for you, but if it has reached your brain, you are done for. Humble yourself for a good rinse.

Are you on the right path? Taken to a mission? Got your blinders on tight? Defending your precious Truth? Get your set of Invisible Combo Goggles. Order here.

Consensus is a killer drug

Conceptives, Words

We can be different, without being divided.

It comes from acceptance.

Acceptance comes when we no longer tolerate.

Living in non-consensus, thriving in non-consensus is the fabric of creativity. All critical thinking and all creativity dies in consensus.

Consensus comes from spreading conviction, winning battles… and brrr…. compromises. To strife for consensus is to strife for holding power. To win over the discourse.

Beautiful things happen when we give up on agreeing, and let our differences inspire new things.

Consensus is when we agree on the choices, will it be 1, 2 or 3. Non-consensus is when each of us creates F, 7 or Jump. Not taking the laid out choices because of consensus.

Consensus is when humans becomes persons, who sit down and agree on how life will be. Non-consensus is what is happening in the real world, where actions, reactions and consequences happens because of life. Consensus is a theater, and only people, persons are stupid enough to think consensus can control the world, can control life. My dog Hannah does not know consensus, she reacts, she does and she learns consequences. Persons holds consensus about banning a plant, the arrogance of stupidity has no limits.

We can all be different, without being divided. When we stop trying to control everything, when we stop, letting our fear of the chaos that life truly is, controlling our lives. When we accept that life can not be controlled.

Consensus among persons is the platform from where Mother State uses violence to control humans.

Lets agree to disagree… WTF? lets just disagree, and grow inspiration from there. What even is agreeing to disagree? Are we that addicted to consensus, that we need consensus to allow us non-consensus… crazy world.

Voters get what they vote for

Conceptives, Words

Every time. When ever there is an election of any sort, everyone who voted got exactly what they voted for. If the election is for a president, every voter gets a president. If the election is for a parliament, every voter gets a parliament. When you vote for laws, you get laws. That is the nature of voting and of making choices.

While some might think elections can be won and lost, there is always only winners among those who participate in an election, they all get what they voted on. They voted on a system, and the system gained its power, the system prevailed and won. Everyone who took part can pat themselves on the back for a job well done… yup, we got another president. 4 more years of being ruled into order. The system works. Good job!

And so the mass hypnosis becomes self induced. That is the beauty of this mass hypnosis, it is self confirming, build up opinion for opinion. With pride humans take part in their own enslavement, and you know, donating to your favorite psycho ruler wanna-be, is tax deductible. A once in a lifetime offer, buy a ticket to the Choose Your Own Ruler Game, support your own enslavement, and pay less to the church that are saving you from you. In the modern world we call this system democracy. A system so flawed it can only exist under mass hypnosis of the pride driven ego, where all sanity of good engineering is lost. On a side note, there are actually engineers who vote with pride on this system, that is build solely on waste. Personally I find this among one of the most amusing reflections of society.

There are groups of people who dedicate their entire life to being programmed into this, scholars and idiots a like, who somehow think knowledge about this deeply flawed system can be considered wisdom and skill. Mass hypnosis of the pride driven ego at its finest. They quote and regurgitate all the self-important quirks and odds, checks and hooks of this wasteful and lunatic system, they have opinions. Mass hypnosis is weaved from opinions. An opinion is an incantation, a hypnotic chant. A mean for confirmation of the hypnosis.

Opinions are like Gods….But without opinions, how do I know what is right or wrong? Funny huh… there are people out there who say the same mindless drivel about God.

This mass hypnosis that makes people vote with pride is fueled on opinions. An opinion about who would be the best ruler, leads people to voting on a president or on a parliament.

And voters always get what they want. They always win the election.

This is an opinion, is it not?


Fuck Tolerance

Conceptives, Words

Acceptance is the difficult path to peace

Non-acceptance is the difficult path to integrity

Tolerance is the easy path to self struggle


Tolerance: to allow the existence, presence, practice, or act of without prohibition or hindrance; permit.


We are taught to tolerate. Tolerate other people, tolerate dishonesty, tolerate murder, tolerate pointlessness, tolerate poor quality and bad leadership.


We are taught that tolerance is a virtue, a sign of an open mind, a patient soul and a strong heart. That tolerance is the key to peace within society and peace within ourselves.


On the other side of tolerance, there are acceptance and non-acceptance. Tolerance is an act of the mind, acceptance and non-acceptance are acts of the spirit and body. Tolerance happens and stays in the mind, acceptance lives in your spirit, non-acceptance takes action in your body.


To tolerate means to allow for something, you can or will not accept. It is a state of constant struggle. To tolerate is the mind’s way of dealing with staying in cognitive dissonance. To teach the virtue of tolerance is to teach how to live in dissonance.


Tolerance as a state of self struggle, as you must constantly be in the state of self – violation and struggle to maintain the state of tolerance.


Tolerance, some dead zone between acceptance and non-acceptance, where the mind can constantly feed the ego drama and importance.


Acceptance is the difficult path to peace. Acceptance is the good bye to the violence of tolerance. I need not to tolerate you, as I accept you. I need not to tolerate the violence of government, as I have accepted violence as the mean of government.


Non-acceptance is the difficult path to integrity. Non-acceptance is the good bye to the violence of tolerance through actions of either fight or retract.


Tolerance is the easy path to self-struggle.  The easy path of the ego, and of living in compromise. To compromise your own self to allow that which you can not accept.


Acceptance is the difficult path to peace

Non-acceptance is the difficult path to integrity

Tolerance is the easy path to self struggle

Walking My Road To Salvation

Conceptives, Words

Walking. Living, moving along. Existing. Walking, the act of living, walking through life, the profound choice of how to walk and where. When arriving is inevitable, but destination highly undefined, unfixed and unknown, walking must become the sole purpose of walking. In that light defined absurdly as, the walk is the arrival, the arrival is the walk. One art of walking could then very well be defined as the art of making the walk as enjoyable, interesting, exploring, observing, sensing as possible, another as the art of making the walk as comfortable, safe, social, confirming as possible, or as fast paced, petal to the metal, dangerous, adrenaline pumping as possible. The art of walking chosen can be chosen, or created, within an array of awareness levels. In linear context, ranging from little to no awareness to with full awareness in every living now. Wherein also giving up awareness can be done with full awareness, and taking on full awareness can be done with little or no awareness.

My. I can only walk as me, a moving vortex of perception cut through the Omni, a four dimensional being of space and time. We can all only walk as the closed unit of perception we are doomed or blessed to be. I can never see yours. You can never see mine. Walks of my. The art of, the act of, the purpose of, the existence of, the reason for walking holds no other existential point than for the self that is walking.

Road. The path chosen or created when walking. There are predefined highways of comfort and ease, yet also of road rage and blow outs. There are small laid out trails others have used, growing stronger with every walker that steps, and uncovered fields not stepped in by many. Trails are abandoned, just as new trails emerges. An ever changing landscape for walking. While the road of the now does not strictly limit neither destination nor road of the future, the art of walking chosen and the road walked in the past, truly does define the tools, skill and knowledge learned and gained from the walk passed, and therefor available for the walker in the now. As we walk, we only pick up and learn from what is present in our walk, from the how and the where we choose to walk.

To. Arriving is inevitable. Destination is undefined, unfixed and unknown. Arriving is a fact. There is a to, regardless its uncertain position and shape. To some this uncertainty represents fear and anxiety, to others a thrill of a mystery and to some, merely an abstract concept, pointless to the walk itself. Yet the to also holds the choice of the how and the where, when those are chosen with awareness. The to can be direction, and not merely arrival.

Salvation. Be saved from harm and sin. Deliverance, to be set free. Seen not as a destination, but as skill, a tool, as knowledge learned from the walking passed, available for the walker in the now. Salvation as a metaphor for the clarity and the light we need to see the “Walking, My, Road, To” as the moldable, organic, ever changing sizes, that we create and shape, as our perceptive beings cuts through the Omni when we walk. Creating the world we walk as we walk. Being saved from the “sinful” and “harmful” of the discourse of predefined and obscured. The absurdity earlier defined, the walk is the arrival, the arrival is the walk will be salvation.

The tale of The 100 Diggers.

Untold Tales, Words

It was said that upon the Earth laid a wound, slowly turning to a scar. A great rift of seemingly endless depth, stretching wide and long as an ocean. It was said this rift, The Great Canyon, was the core of all power and energy on Earth. It was said that this rift was oozing its inner on Earth, this ooze told to be the source of all energy.

One mighty and powerful Entity, Guilian had sieged The Great Canyon, knowing that no energy or inner was oozing from the Canyon. That it was merely a great wide rift. Earth was bountiful of energy, oozing from all living, and yet the humans had not figured it out. They were in desperate need of energy. Burning off old scraps and dirty oil. Guilian gave them energy from The Great Canyon, and The Great Canyon only. Told them the tale of the oozing inner, and the importance of the rift. He kept the humans from figuring it out by making them fight each other. He instigated wars among the bloodlines, keeping the humans distracted and reliant. Soon all the humans were fighting and polluting, killing and destroying each other over the rights to administer little patches of the rift. Guilian was treated as the God he always wanted to be, but that he never was.

Among the humans, a small awareness grew. Here and there a human saw behind the trickery. Understood that the rift made no difference, and that if Guilian could do it, so could humans. A small whisper was heard, it spoke of the deceitful ways of Guilian, and the uselessness of The Great Canyon. Those humans saw how The Great Canyon was tearing apart humanity, they saw how many lives were sacrificed for this mirage, how much pollution and destruction this rift was causing. Their hate and anger grew, hate and anger toward Guilian, toward the generals leading their armies, toward all those people who wouldn’t look behind the trickery and finally toward the rift itself. Among these spread humans with awareness a need to do something, to stop Guilian, to destroy the rift grew, rapidly and fiercely. All though these humans were not many, they were determined to take down the rift and stop the endless wars and scam for power. Armed with shovels they took to the edges of the rift, alone or in small groups they began the enormous task of burying the rift, one shovel full of dirt at a time. Some of the groups worked together and build digging machines, covering more ground. The name The 100 Diggers soon merged, no one knew from where.

Guilian saw these humans, The 100 Diggers that worked steadily at the edge to bury the rift, to stop the wars and killing. He laughed to himself, as he proclaimed to the world; see how important this rift is, people are trying to bury it in fear of its true power. He laughed as he opened the first Edge Tours, where on guided busses his servants could see the madmen for themselves, to be reminded of the power of The Great Canyon and Guilian. The more Guilian mocked The 100 Diggers, the more determined and focused they got. The harder they worked, the more isolated they became.

And so for years, for decades, The 100 Diggers worked on the edge, burying The Great Canyon. Some gave up, new ones joined, some grew too old, some died from the work. Once in awhile Guilian pushed, beat or killed a digger, so the myth of the importance of The 100 Diggers could live on, fueling the illusion of a real power struggle over the rift.

Among The 100 Diggers was a young man. A troublesome young man. A lazy young man with a sharp wit. While the others were digging, this young man was sitting in the sun under a tree, daydreaming. He knew, much like the others, that the rift had no special powers, and that Guilian only held knowledge, not magic, and so he did not understand what the digging was for. He asked, and got no answer, merely ridicule. Shied by his peers for his laziness, his fear of compliance, he grew silent of his thoughts. Too often shut up or mocked, he stop speaking his wit. Instead he pondered. He noticed how a few others like him had stopped digging and talking, and so he went to them. They like him did not understand the digging.

There in the shade of a tree he met the old man, Lore. Lore did not speak, but simply showed the young man how to coil from copper the ancient shapes, and derive energy from the soil. The young man, uplifted with this new skill, ran to the edge, eager to show The 100 diggers how to coil and derive energy, but no one listened, no one looked. He tried poking a few, they scruffled at him, told him they were busy saving the world, burying the horrible rift that caused so much suffering and death. They turned their backs to him, calling him lazy and stupid, pointed out that if it was that easy, it would have been done already. The young man walked away, he went to those sitting under the trees, a few of them took time to notice and learn.

As a small group of people with this new skill and knowledge left the world behind, found themselves a small patch on Earth and began their own living, The 100 diggers, Guilian, The Great Canyon and the system of trickery and power rolled on. For 1000s and 1000s of years, Guilian lied, humans fought each others in wars, The 100 Diggers dug for their futile cause, the rift laid as big and wide as it always had been.

Among the stories told by the humans living in this scam was the story of the Young Lazy Man, who foolishly thought himself to be as powerful as Guilian, had led innocent people off into the mercy of the wilderness. A crazy man, they said. A dangerous man with dangerous thoughts.