live life letter 043 - the ingression of intent
dear friends,
I question my faith.
I question in good faith. In a weird meta-sense, I inquire my good faith with good faith. I step out to look in. God stained my intuition; how can I escape it?
Must it be an escape, to leave one cave for the next?
I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be God- well, I could, but would I want to? The convergence of so many thoughts and prayers. Of so many spirits and souls searching for an answer to their sufferings.
The ingression of intents are immeasurable. How would one manage all that? Why would anyone desire such a responsibility? Is there a point to all of it?
ingression (L., ingredi, "to enter into," from in, "in" and gradi, "to walk"):
1. the coming together of potential occurrences, thereby creating existing complexes.
2. the developing together, or growing together, of diverse things, thereby creating concrete wholes [holes].
I am turning twenty-five this week and I have been a witness to many passing thoughts. In my twenty five years of life, I cannot help but question and ponder what good are we humans? What good do we bring the world? What good do we bring the universe? What good do I bring to it all? What is real? A turning point?
How can one point in time affect me so?
God exists in the gaps. I cannot help but think to that moment a friend of mine had informed me of this truth. God is found in the gaps. God in my vein (the vein unseen). In vain, I see; my, God why?
I can see how easy it is to weaponize and use this faith of mine. I can see how it can be manipulated for rhetoric and for conditioning tactics. I can see the appeal towards truth and logic. Love and Hate. Upon each gate.
I can see it all. I don't know what to think; but it's my moral obligation to think. By God, what is this? I don't want to think in vain, to bleed unnecessarily, by God's vein.
I struggle in my faith. I struggle in my inquiry. I struggle in my examination. I struggle to find the good. But I do see it. I do see the good in others. The God, my God in others. Despite the gaps, I see Him in others. In strangers, in friends, in those I love.
I cannot help but see the gap that stares at me and the gap between us. I hold this truth to be self-evident.
What do you pray for?
your friend(ly)
jakester
TL;GR (too long; go read)
to write on good faith
the God cursor & Henkin's ϕ(c)
Humpty Dumpty perched on the wall
Immersive Music Choice
to write on good faith
I write on good faith, I act on good faith, I speak on good faith: as earnestly as I can, I listen. What does it mean, to write on good faith?
The book I write is done but incomplete. The story unfinished. I speak in symbols; I speak in words, in worldly metaphors. In my grasp to understand myself, do I make a misstep in my faith, to trust the word of man; to put faith into my own words?
In the beginning was the Word…
In my act of writing, I attempt to make intentions clear. To make my non-intentions clear, the shadows of thought. Anything I say is the narrative. Anything I do is the narrative. I attempt to wash my own brain. The strings of thought, the onset of onsen monkeys hopping in the mountain hot springs. These random sequence of thoughts, they hold meaning to me, towards what I see. A bridge to another place.
Do you thinkst thou could ever reach the summit; the unreachable summit?
I write to escape hatred. To combat the hatred towards self, towards the world, and towards others. I write with compassion. Hatred makes you blind, deaf, and dumb. To write is to hold an understanding, even for a moment's pass. To observe and examine truthfully as one can try to approximate as they pull from the depths of their own murky minds. The twisted cave well.
That is what I define as writing on good faith.
In a world so uncertain, ever-changing, and overwhelmingly filled with the taints of hatred; writing on good faith serves not only as an escape, but a form of transfiguration, in my eyes. I write on good faith to combat the evil of mind, the zeitgeist of time. I lay awake at night, writing my thoughts.
Something had awoken me.
I cannot sleep. It's 3:37AM.
What am I awake to; the spirit, the soul?
The flow uncontrolled. It comes during these hours. The owls nocturned. My journal opened to the blue ink blots. Inked tears, drops of blood, dripped by the nose; a scent untouched. My ingression of intent.
I lay awake.
cursor of God & Henkin's statement
"In the beginning was the Word…"
The "Word" is translated from Logos, meaning reason, order and principle.
Henkin's statement: "There exists a sentence that is provable but not true."
When I read these words, I think to the nuanced separation between the proof side of logic and the truth side of the Universe. I am led to David Hume's is/ought distinction (gap). Does God exist in all possible worlds?
Is there a bridge to be understood?
When you move your cursor, you move your thought, your attention, your emotion. What is in motion when you examine and explore the Word? When you explore these words? When you explore the world at your disposal?
I try to navigate my cursor, the symbol of self, thru the many systems and paradigms offered onto us in our human condition. Yet, even "good faith belief" can slip into bad faith or unforeseen harmful outcomes especially if the cursor isn't guided by a genuine reflection or a "meta-sense" of awareness.

Diagram of the apparent paradox embodied in M. C. Escher's 1956 lithograph Print Gallery, as discussed by Douglas Hofstadter in his 1980 book Gödel, Escher, Bach
∃xφ(x)→φ(cφ)
Meaning of Loaded Symbols
∃x → “There exists an x”
φ(x) → “x has property φ" (a condition, like is a pizza shop or is God)
→ → logical “if … then …”
cφ → a brand-new constant, a name introduced just for this property
The self as a Henkin constant
Think of “I” in language:
- It doesn’t prove I exist — it’s just a placeholder.
- But if existence is true, the word “I” necessarily refers to the witness of that existence.
Thus the pronoun I is structurally Henkin-like:
- Vacuously true if no self.
- Fully anchored if there is a self.
i. Do I follow God's logic?
ii. Do I follow a universally-true logic?
If there exists a Henkin constant (a naming cursor that determines what exists and what is an empty placeholder), then there must exist a witness experiencing the distinction between what is the Word and what is Reality.
Henkin's formulation of logic is clever because the logic itself cannot be broken. It remains as a neutral constant between Logos and as to what actually exists in our reality. Since the logic itself cannot be broken, it leads me to think there exists a witness; a gate that exists outside of Henkin's formulation. A witness to Logos.
It's a mind bend, a recursion of self, to follow the path of reason down to the tea. Strange things happen when you follow the spiral of thought closely. What remains conscious and what remains unconscious; beyond our conscious thought?
Must there be a witness to this Universe, to all possible worlds for existence itself to be real? In all possible worlds, does Love exist? [a necessary existence]
humpty dumpty sat on a wall
Let's bring it down a notch, shall we?
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall:
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses and all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.
"'Some people,' said Humpty Dumpty, looking away from her as usual, 'have no more sense than a baby!'
…
"'Must a name mean something?' Alice said doubtfully."
Names are but placeholders, conventions we hold as we sit on our fence, oscillating between contradictions and lines drawn for the sake of ethos.
On my own free will—
On the fence, I was. Humpty Dumpty, pondering on the Egg and the Chicken, I was. Then Pascal, the ol' gambling farmer came along and yelped: 'Come down the fence, young boy!' with a concerned look, 'you'll hurt ya self if you stay up there too long! ya gotta' take a leap eventually.'
'What a wager you force upon me,' I thought to myself 'as if I could decide with such a little understanding of it all.' There is an interplay between Life and Death, between Good and Evil, between Love and Hate.
Sometimes you must decide on indecision.
Like playing chess: sometimes the strongest move is to not move yet, to hold tension until the board shifts. "The less educated, the more controlled."
Do you hear the band of truth?
How easily it can all be abandoned; banned truths. The brainwash of thought, it's so ubiquitously lurking. The rhetoric is clear, the martyrs and machines. Love and Hate; they swing both ways. Double pendulums and hidden fractals.
I acknowledge what is on the line and I see both sides. In my good-natured anxiety, I cannot tell you which side is complete. Both sides are incomplete. Both sides hold a truth. Both sides miss a truth.
Things were meant to fall apart. They always have. They always will. What remains when you fall?
I wish for the world to be better, not more nor less; that I wish naively.
In my human heart, I see a man who is innocent until proven guilty. I find a God that exists until proven not. I do not believe in God, rather, I know He must exist, at least in my mind and soul: I know.
I pray for my intent to not fall into bad faith: mauvaise foi; of fleeing freedom. I do not wish to avoid responsibility. I must take my faith into an honest account.
Yes, I am shaped by forces: but I am also free to choose how I relate to them. I do not wish to deceive you in my own self-deceit.
If He does not exist and the name is but an empty placeholder, at least I believed in good faith. If He does not exist, at least I know I lived with Love.
Will you love this part of me?
A sage who wages on the wall must contain his rage through the ages; Wisdom is not winning the wager, but withstanding the weight of waiting.
Climb down the wall, He tells you.
