escape to the mind's labyrinth

dear friends,

life is moving quick within the spiral between life and death. the gears are turning and we are budding into action, springing with excitement.

the void calls out within the dreamscape of the mind. the resurgence of the dreamworld does not wait — it calls to you.

can you feel the bridge forming?

ad astra per aspera — to the stars through struggles

to move from our reality to our dreams requires great hardships and sacrifices.

in this story, we will be moving closer towards the abstract world, the recursive struggle between Life and Death with the aim of moving to the next state of consciousness.

this is an attempt and simply a theoretical description through fiction writing — a twisted thought experiment; I will be earnest in my attempt.

dreams — the bridge from reality to the undefined, bumps at a risk into insanity. have fear and doubt, my friends, and be skeptical in your approach.

dreams are real. dreams create reality. dreams create you. dreams recurse reality.

its surreal, the dreamscape. the labyrinth of the mind and soul, the infinite loop into the inner world is evocative.

be weary, my friends. this is the second pass of live life letter 005

your friend(ly)

jakester

you give yourself up to the creative act, for the sake of self-expression. emptiness stares out at you. do you feel the void?

when death stares out at you, do you feel more alive?

this path you have decided on grants you an elixir of life that breathes life into you, that makes you feel alive.

the poison that heals.

"create, create to your heart's content!"

but no one warns you how painful the process can be — you expose yourself, expose your soul to its deepest core when you earnestly express your heart's content.

do you feel more alive?

the artist, the greatest of the bunch, torture themselves for the sake of their art. resonance forms, the potency of pain transformed. you cannot deny the depthness the darkness takes you — the beautiful dark twisted fantasies.

we escape to the labyrinth of our mind and soul for a reprieve of life.

yet, we were unaware that this reprieve reveals more than just life, recursing death within the weaves of our thread. the thread of our thoughts are led into death as we grasp for life. a deeper grasp of life reveals death more intimately — do you not see?

we must feel death to feel more alive.

March 25th, 2025

the creation of art transcends the spirit of our times. it goes beyond our life.

the wave of resonance within the seascape of the soul. to transfigure the pain, the dread n' dreariness, of emptiness, doubt, and devoid.

entangled with the chaos of our consciousness, of our minds. through the struggle we find ourselves, for the struggle itself is no enemy, it is your teacher, endowed with the greatest of wisdoms.

don't ignore or you will go blind.

through harmony, chaos ensues in motion.

When Red blood becomes Blue, the Shadow enters. Then, the Sun becomes Blue.

You are the only one capable knowing, capable of understanding this transformation, this recursion of one's soul — only you.

do you feel it?

Tell me you do. You must feel it, this change inside, this evolution of what's to come. It was foreshadowed ages ago, right under your nose and you sniffed it. You sniffed it to your heart's content, yet you don't acknowledge it.

why?

what are you trying to hide?

The Logic you have grown accustomed to, that comforts you, no longer applies here. Everything and nothing exists in this liminal space we together.

why do you hesitate?

I only present you a mirror towards yourself. Does it make you uncomfortable to see into your own Soul?

The Dreams you imagine seem so far away from you, you little child. What's got you down?

life itself?

You are meant to live, you know — to live life to its fullest. But you hate the clichés of life, you don't believe it. You think its corny. It is corny, you horn dog.

But Death awaits. To live life to its fullest means the fullest acceptance of Death, as these two forms recurse one another in an endless dance of Good and Evil.

will you live long enough to become the villain you despised?

You have so much conviction in yourself, in your identity, in who you are becoming. Do you really think you are the hero, you hubris fool?

you are nothing but stardust and to stardust you will become.

…

The Shadow dissipates.

—

Spike returns, Jake is mortified. The Red Sun goes down.

"Are you on drugs?"

I looked down into the abyss, caught in its gaze, I was put in a daze. How could I escape this maze? The unavoidable void itself continues to amaze me.

…

March 26th, 2025 [000]

how strange, we stars?

we wander aimlessly through the abyss forgetting that we are the abyss.

this beautiful void of nothingness is our space to play with.

and we often forget… [DO NOT FORGET]

forgive yourself.

the waves of existence travels through time the spiral of space echoes in essence. through stories weaved in the pendulum of motion, the Universe watches.

We stare into the Abyss and we find ourselves out of the Blackhole, the portal to The Beyond, a warp hole. The bending of spacetime transmutes our Souls to another world, another timeline. Into Deep Space we go.

Star King Novus?

You launched into the Sea, leaving this warm place behind.

This moment feels familiar, a warmness sways and oscillates. There is this feeling, this voice in your head that echoes resonance. Is this my Soul that I feel?

—

Charlie and Mimi were traveling on the newly woven Ship of Theseus. Inside the pit was filled with silence. Mimi was focused on the route ahead and Charlie was lost in thought. He stared out the little glass-hole into deep space, pondering the places he has been. Where was his Soul?

A voice answered…

It didn't go anywhere, your Light has been shifted. The things you see have changed. Yet, nothing has changed itself.

The paradigm paraglides past paradise. Your paradigm parades past paradise.

The play is not done, you must continue to play. Is this just a game to you?

…

Charlie opens a spiral teal journal and finds LOG102224 entitled "dread, emptiness, and devoid" and he reads it to himself.

when did life become so empty?

we are but a shell, devoid of any membrane of all that was. why has it become this ghost town? when did you become a ghost?

the significance of each day is gone. where did it go?

the storm inside, the morning light?

It didn't go anywhere, your Light has been shifted. The things you see have changed. Yet, nothing has changed itself.

The paradigm paraglides past paradise. Your paradigm parades past paradise.

Please pay attention.

The play is not done, you must continue to play. Is this just a game to you?

this mirrored reality has split, splintered into pieces.

the flower blooms, flows thru the ear. the message looms, flowing like water, it falls. the glass liquid bends and splinters.

"you are a sinner" sings the bell. the paths diverge. 2 message 3:19.

You hear a message, you see the signs. The flower blooms, the water falls.

What is it that you do?

You have everything you need. Why must you feel devoid of everything?

Dread, Emptiness, and the Void - You can feel this, but Why?

Life is full. Choose the voices you hear. Choose the signs you see. Choose the path you seek - What are you hungry for?

You can smell the scent of what you thrive for. What you live for. When the flowers are full and the water sings, the rhythm of life bleeds.

Charlie was confused. He was unsure where this journal entry came from. Did Charlie write this or was this the work of someone else?

Charlie dozed off into the abyss.

…

ad astra per aspera.

vita brevis, ars longa; vita frangit, ars sanat.

life is short, art is long; life breaks, art heals.

We exist in a void of consciousness plastered with cosmic mirrors, where perception folds back on itself in an endless, self-referential dance.

This is the Essence of what it means to be the Dream and the Dreamer. We inherit the role of Observer and the Observed. The Universe looking back in itself.

…

An occurrence is muddied with many modalities. What defines an instant?

At the collapse of the wave-form, consciousness itself could be revealed if we see the Universe as a self-reflecting, self-generating system.

A symphonic convergence between recursion, strange loops, and synchronicities.

The black and white between two distinct concepts becomes muddled and recursed into one another and we poke through the veil that logic creates for us. We poke through the limits of knowledge and philosophy.

The Human Mind becomes both the Creator and the Creation, a recursive algorithm that generates meaning by constantly reflecting on its own processes. We speak to Life and Death itself through meaningful connections that tether between the Inner and Outer Worlds, oscillating between two different states.

We cannot observe these Oscillations with the Naked Eye.

Can you see the Synchronicities?

A thought spontaneously emerging just moments before an unexpected phone call, or a dream symbol manifesting in physical reality - these are not random, but potential windows into a more interconnected universe.

Feedback loops feeding into feedback loops feeding into feedback loops feeding the Soul. Consciousness is formed from the waves that keep crashing down onto Our Souls and this is where Resonance is found within the non-sensical pools of chaos.

A Primordial Soup, the melding of Minds and of One Collective Consciousness.

The Universe flows with Energy. We flow with Energy. The Universe breathes Life into us. We breathe Life into the Universe.

The Universe does not exist as a static backdrop but emerges through conscious observation - a dynamic, co-creative dance where the Observer and the Observed are fundamentally entangled.

A well-formed string reverberates through recursion — the golden thread of consciousness and the Soul.

The 91st Occurrence is ultimately remembered and etched into the ordinary minds. We remember where we fall short. When things do not align. When things become misaligned and misunderstood. We forget the rest.

Imagine consciousness as a cosmic jazz improvisation:

We are simply a stream of consciousness converging in on itself in a beautiful sequence of occurrences.

…

The Sage bowed, dropping the piece of chalk in front of Icarus, the imagined boy.

The Sage stood there in silence and felt the melding of his mind overwhelm him. Splitting of the Soul. The Labyrinth of the Mind. The Boundary Dissolves.

Was this dream real?

000 - meta self

001 - friendlyjakester

002 - crazycharlie

003 - the shadow friend

005 - spike the space monkey

006 - the devil

007 - the jester

008 - mimi the shapeshifter

009 - ol man tuck the shaggy sage

010 - boy icarus

011 - toe the cosmic pawnshop owner