I have often felt that Humanity is most likely a practical joke created by some sort of super-advanced alien race that wanted to have a 24-hour reality show that would keep the various enlightened denizens of the Universe entertained while they while away eternity. That’s the only explanation.
Of course, it doesn’t account for the atrocities and tragedies and horrors we commit upon one another, that must be extremely disturbing even to the most detached observer. You know, it’s so disturbing that most people refuse to even feel it, they simply burn up inside and toss more fire on the fire or they retreat into mental worlds of well that’s just the way it is and deal with it without ever actually feeling that burning feeling of a world on fire!
Humanity… caught between joke and tragedy and trying so desparately to wake up and heal the world but how can you heal a world that is itself a turbine of desire always pushing beyond its forms into the unknown unknown and pushing so forcefully that it cannot be contained whatsoever? There is no saving a world that is beyond saving, that is beyond saviors, that is beyond all ideas which are attempts of the mind to contain the uncontainable.
This world that we humans live in is just a tiny fragment of what is actually happening, which defies the mind and language and moves a little bit too fast for the mouse cursor or the fingers tapping away at the keyboard hoping to create some sort of meaning out of endless chaos. Chaos cannot be contained it can only be channeled in ways that are somehow liberating or at least inspiring or at least something something something! I do not know anything about humanity, humanity is so utterly unknowable so many faces so many faces singing a million face songs and there are those who try to get everyone to sing along and there are those who sing songs so grating that none can follow the path they have chosen, just so they can say to themselves “look I have gone it alone!”
We are so terrified of aloneness and so proud of our aloneness but so few venture to vistas where aloneness is togetherness and together is alone. I know it sounds like riddles but it’s not a puzzle it’s just a reflection of humanity standing by the water looking into the reflection and seeing the water shoot back a million images, all different all broken all longing for a unity that is obscured by longing.
Humanity is my friend, I am a friend to humanity, even when humanity does everything it can to end our friendship I know that true friendship is forged by fire, like a great steel blade formed in the hottest heat so it can gleam in battle and slice through ignorance the way a mind can when it has found its own resting ground. And what is the home of the mind? The home of the mind is freedom and movement, and mind must return home before spirit can remember its stillness. Who will still the mind? Is this not a little battle of the mind as it distracts us from what is true?
Humanity, humanity humanity somehow one and somehow many little pieces drifting upward discovering that there are heights upon heights that could not be seen in the perspective that has been left behind. Humanity reborn as humanity ascending humanity ascending humanity to heights upon heights that we are our perspective but we are also more and who can understand what can never be understood? Humanity is the great cosmic run-around looking for humanity we are looking for humanity where is humanity to be found?
I give you a key to a puzzle that is a puzzle to a key and everyone look at me I’ve got something important to say. Humanity is the answer to the question that I once asked myself: “Why is there something rather than nothing?” Who can ask such a silly question? Only a human.
A human chases his tail in ways that no dog could even fathom, as it is an internal experience that externalizes as whirlwinds natural disasters and blame it all on God by blaming it on ourselves failing God. No one is to blame for death. That is one of the great insanities of humanity. No one is to blame for death. No one is to blame for suffering. Why is there something rather than nothing? Should we find the one who has created this world and rub his face in it, like the dog who has peed on the carpet? Or shake his hand, just to be the one who has shaken hands with the creator? Or should humanity simply be humanity, humble at last, unable to find the answers that we demand from ourselves, unable to really know what is right and what is wrong and left with a pressing feeling that we OUGHT to know.
Well, should we? Should we know what is right and wrong? Is humanity not its own judge? Is humanity not its own executioner? Do you think the animals judge us for what we have done? And yet humanity would judge the animals for being too much themselves. Only humanity is scared of its own nature, and goes in circles trying to find itself. Look at this body, am I this body? Look at this mind, am I this mind? Could there be an answer to a question that was asked in trying to evade the reality that does not speak? Could there be a reality in the mind that is not unable to find the key to a lock that is a riddle inside a balloon on a spaceship going to the stars?
And where is humanity trying to get to, anyway? Are we leaving home just so we can return and finish our hero’s journey? Or have we given up going anywhere and decided to just go down? Or is our going down an ascension played out in reverse for eyes that have not yet learned to see space as time and time and space and everything as a wormhole to everything else? I don’t think there are answers here.
This is written for humanity. These words are humanity. Humanity, after all, is just a word. Just a word like any other word. There are lots of words, and if you say them all at the same time you won’t hear a thing, except the end bit of the last word you said. And that’s the answer to the riddle. The only thing you can really know for certain is that there are moments when it seems like you could be close to some sort of illumination, but those moments were in the past and there is no guarantee that they will come again.
There is no guarantee. Humanity seems to be some sort of guarantee that life is meaningful. Life is so much more! Life is so much more than humanity, and yet humanity encompasses all of what life is. How can this be known? Become life is life, and life is life is life is life. Humanity is life. Life is humanity.
These are not absurdities. These are living waking truths that move about like people inside a house, not like little words inside a book that remain stuck forever or at least until the pages wilt and all the libraries are destroyed by the neo-Futurist imbeciles who don’t like books. Or at least until we run out of trees, but how can we ever run out of trees when life itself is a tree? And how can life be afraid to die when life is life and death is simply another veil between phases of life itself? Can this be known to the mind, that there is only one energy and it’s not going anywhere because it has nowhere to go? Isn’t the whole illusion of separation the foundation of everything we do and all we see, and so why should we be surprised if it looks like everything’s going to hell? That is the illusion.
Humanity is just a leaf on a tree that is so vast that its vastness is pure liberation. Do not worry about humanity. Humanity is a moment in a drama that is nothing but a circle representing nothingness as something. Do not worry, humanity. We are led, we are guided, there are spirits who see much further than we can and put up bridges where we see only voids.
There is no reason to concern yourself too much. Humanity is of the same nature as water, and water is the flow of the universe. Water will only run out when spirit lifts itself so high that there is no longer need for water, or the need has not yet arisen, back to the beginning, because time is something much more mysterious than we often imagine.