Debauchery is (not) the Answer

And so, here I find myself again. There seems to be a door, but if so, I have not found it.

Yet -


What have I tried? What have I not tried? Could it be a matter as simple as left or right?

And how about the truth?
And so I find myself ... sitting here, virtually speaking, with some kind of Mantra and a door that won't open.


Once upon a time, at the beginning of the Journey, I was visited by some kind of vision that suggested that the path I chose was locked because of ... something. The image suggested that sexual and drug fuelled escapades might be the reason; And so I figured that there's things I would be doing that I shouldn't be doing and hence the door remained closed.

Then some time later I found myself in "the vicinity" of such things. By the imaginings of some perhaps "the heart" of it all; Though life in a brothel is far more mundane than some might think. The amount of times I've heard people sigh out loud with joy and pleasure there ... is possibly less than what I hear from my neighbours here.
What would keep me occupied were musings. Soul searching. Ideas that provoke feelings, feelings that provoke satisfaction ... .
And thus I slipped to the bottom of a pit I knew not much about. It was born from fantasy and bred by feelings of satisfaction. A glimmer of what it could be, for better or worse. And since then ... a particular stench entered my nose. It can't be a 'true sensation' - this smell is too distinct and far from any apparent source; And always linked to the idea. Maybe that's what human flesh smells like ... when grilled ... or whatever.

I don't like it. That smell. It's foul. It's rotten.

And while some spiritualists might be searching for an Ascent, here I seem to have found a descent. One I held on to; Believed in - but yet I was plagued by "its shadow". Well, maybe what I held or looked at was the shadow. I would insist that it's the Light. Yet either way is there the object in question.
And I dare not think of it, or speak of it. I toss aside the "could be"s and "would be"s - for I did not need to know, nor did I care to know, the depths of depravity that the human soul is capable of. And so it is still. Some might call it a wall of denial, I call it a wall of protection.

And ... yea. I remember. I've been there. I stood there ... in front of that door, once. I was approached and somewhat befriended by a guy, in Los Angeles, who eventually carried a proposal to me. A lure of temptation, an enticing tough; And I agreed. Until I withdrew and noped out again.

And then, just recently, another call. This time I merely laid down. But there's a certain atmosphere in my Bedroom, when the Light in my living room is still on. An atmosphere similar to that of a party. The Light being the symptom of life, of things going on, of the night not being over - while the dark in the room is the symptom of some division, a seclusion or separation. And while on the one hand I find this atmosphere invigorating, on the other I find it to be disturbing. And I figured, that if this was what my life would have turned out to be, that I would have to escape the beating heart of life in order to find the moments of silence in which but a glimmer would be in place of the Light that I adhere to; I don't want it.


And so here they are. Three doors. Three aspects of debauchery.


The one is common; Though perhaps, here and there, a cultural peculiarity. Be it of privilege or occasion - it merely exists. As a Light in the dark; But one that darkness comprehends very well. Like a fire that drowns the darkness in a flickering luminescence - it mingles with the Light and the Light mingles with it. What transpires in the Light and what transpires in the shadows ... is difficult to set apart.

The other one is uncommon; As by all means it is forbidden. Not merely for its own sake, but for the transgressions that pave its way. It is a path of transgressions. Maybe there are deeper esoteric truths that are sprinkled in here and there; But I would not value them as greater than hallucinations and fever dreams. I would consider them fruits of a deluded mind. Attempts of reason and consciousness to justify their existence; Being however mere shadows of their true glorious selves.

And the third one ... would seem to exist beyond mortal comprehension. Whatever truths there are lingering in the Light or Dark of the two aforementioned ones; They too would exist here, but exalted to be worthy of being called fruits of reason. "What is debauchery other than a celebration of life and the givings of wealth?". Yes, but it is a question that rings as mockery within the halls of the unenlightened.


[...]


And thus it opens. Or so it would seem. And yet my heart is withdrawn. From contentment to despair - tossed into a kaleidoscope of words and emotions. As a smack in the face, is this to me. And in my heart I find mockery. A thirst for vengeance, dressed as a demand for justice.

I understood, but not how to tell You. I saw, but not the simple bottom line of it all. For can't You just lay aside Your mortal bickerings - and step foot onto the path of the righteous? Why must ye insist to dwell in the shadows and to escape the Light? 'For it is tainted' - ye answer?

You drive me mad in Your confusion and ignorance and I can no longer bear it. I can't count anymore how often I've given up; And yet I would get back up ... and for what and why? Maybe I must admit that I did not see this door for what it was. But ... "come on!" ... "this is stupid!". "Is it this?" NO! "Is it that?" NO! and so, on we go. However often I've tried to explain it ... I do not know. All I get is "cheep cheep here" and "cheep cheep there" ... "que wa wa wee que wa wa waa" ... and on and on we move in circles; Just to come back to the same old place where I sit and wait for something to happen. And then it's so simple. It comes not only as an insult and a slap in the face ... it comes as insult upon injury and I at first don't know how to deal with it but to reflect it back to where it's coming from.

Can't You find the resolve within Your own hearts? Must You be swayed back and forth into confusion? And over what? To then mock me instead?!

Naturally I would find myself mocked for a fool; For such is the fate of those standing by the Tree of Life.
My gifts are not of darkness; I don't hide them - they are not meant to be held in the shadows. Yet such is the lure of the wicked and the ignorant. A way to feel special perhaps.

When exposed to the Light, shadows perish. And when the shadow itself is the appeal, then it cannot dwell in the presence of the divine.


And mockery I can deal with.

But to be left to myself over idiocies such as this?

And yet the winds would carry silent prayers to me - seeking for my favors. Yet they mar my name and turn themselves from my truth.

If passion is soft and pleasures willing; Then You've lost me on both accounts anyway - and the light cracking through this door must be dark.


What little I have that might carry me through its threshold is tortured and scarred; And for however many last final steps I've taken, I've become sick and wary of them.


And thus would have been my original conclusion to this topic. I have neither compassion nor impassion left for this.
And by the time I would find the words to carry me on, here, I would have perished.

Assembly procures hierarchy and hierarchy procures power. Power again procures order and order procures rule.

Yet, those who seek ascension amongst the ranks of the wicked or the ignorant stand trapped by their own desires.

Whatever, it sickens me.
And must I care?


"Let this be a Lesson!" - some wind hushes through the cracks of my tortured soul. It leaves me confused, for I cannot see enough to speak it with confidence.

And yet there is more. There is always more. And I'm sick of delivering these things to You; As if that one last thing would ever do it. As if it ever were ... the one last thing.

And yet here we are. Not with one last thing, but another first thing. Another square one.


I should take solace in this. For on the one hand my heart feels mocked from matters of the one, and teased from matters of the other. As if either was what I wanted or be looking for; As if either was what I wanted to create or become a part of.

And I would stand there blind to what You would hide behind Your backs. Would it be this or that or neither?

I speak of the truth and present signs to You - and still I would be treated as though I had nothing. As if I only wanted ... this one or this other silly thing; All the while You have proven Yourself utterly incapable of walking the walk!

What so can I have, other than despair?


But yes. Mistakes here and mistakes there. Signs of Corruption, symptoms of Naivete. Silly nonsense that would have to vanish; But however - in lonesome isolation none of it matters anyway.


And so, what can we find ... beyond that one door? I can't tell You! I do not know! And I dare not speculate any further.

There is no more joy or passion I can spare for this. And neither do I feel like confirming or denying past mistakes or errors or going even as far as trying to rethink.


And so, a while back when this has come back up - and once again I felt tasked to ponder upon this door that seemed to not exist - I would have given it to You as such. To please SHUT UP about it; Too see its inconsequential nature and to please do Yourself the favor and look upon the things that matter.

Time then, so it stands to reason, would have had a more sensible answer.


And if it ends up being a whole lot of talk about a matter as simple as "No and No" - such would seem to be the toll of confusion. We cannot chose what it obscures and what not - and especially there where darkness lurks and mortal eyes barely travel to ... we should expect to find abyss' like this; Where even the most simplest answer can be locked behind the adventure of a lifetime.