starflood the mind

dear friends,

I have launched into van life, into the uncertainty of the open road.

The journey ahead is full of joy and excitement. Yet, I cannot lie to you, I have had my doubts. Building this van and experiencing many flops and failures really had me question this whole undertaking. I spiraled into dread as I glanced at my bank account quickly dwindling into oblivion, caught in my own web.

I wondered, was I really cut out for this?

Did I truly want this life? Why was I doing this? What was this all for? Will I truly be happy on the other side? Would this be worth it?

There's so many other opportunities, other options that are much more safer, conventional, much more strategic, and financially sound than dumping all my earnings into a white pedo van. Excuse my language.

This is unconventional. This is a metaphor. This is the jump.

The water doesn't get any warmer the longer you wait. Jump into the stars that lead you through the dead of night. To escape this drain of life.

There is an overall mission with this this van of mine. To push me in ways unknown. To bet on myself. To create things I envision. To live life.

Ad Astra Per Aspera. Through Struggles, To the Stars.

P.S. me and Will Gunther Butler, the two windy wanderers, have a special treat at the end so read on live lifers!

The struggle to the stars drains you of it all, of everything you have. You cannot imagine going further. Why must you?

There is nothing propelling you, nothing incentivizing you, nothing carrying you from this depth that has been endowed upon you. You were placed here on this Earth beyond your control. It's beyond you to struggle in such mundaneness and idiocies. You don't need to struggle. You can give up now. Let life be drained from you. You cannot imagine struggling any longer. Why must you?

The struggle drains the life out of you. The stars leaving your eyes. There is no longer a twinkle in your retina, lackluster, burdened by life. Life, why must it continue? You wonder, wonder no end, wandering down the windy path to oblivion. This windy path spirals into a flood of awareness. An awareness that places this hard schism within you, fragmenting you into an explosion of shelled pieces. You are a shell of yourself, you lack the life in your eyes. The stars have left and you wonder why?

Life has left you. You continue to struggle, to pick up the torch, the light of hope. You cannot imagine continuing in this void, the vacuum of meaning. Why must you?

Everything drains you. From the moment your eyes awake, the dread piles on. The day ahead no longer excites you. You dread the day ahead. You can feel your head pound from the headaches projected in the future. These projections manifest in your presence. You cannot shake them, this feeling. It shackles you to your bed. You lay their. You pick up your phone. 8:08am.

A short moment passed. The stream of decay projects into your dilated pupils in an everflowing glow of stimulant colors and pixels moving. You look back at the time. 9:36am. Time dilated, phantom time. Time slipped and you let it pass through your fingers.

Your dreaded fingers.

The surface level rotness of life drains you. Rottenness for the Soul.

A friendly loop back into the meta-awakening [first live life letter] and the great cosmic flood [first live life scrutinization]. A 3rd loop, I suppose?

Regardless, the first night of van life under the clouded starry sky flooded my mind of my own stream of consciousness, my own flood of consciousness.

howshouldonelive.wheredowecomefrom.whatisyourpurposeinthiscosmos.whatisthemeaningoflife.whyamihere.whatismywhy.whatdoesitmeantometaphysicallyexist?

In essence, WHY?

The search for the soul within these self-contained infinities exists in the rapid stream of consciousness. We can imagine in all possible worlds these infinite substances (things that cannot be fully contained), this function of consciousness and its ability to self-reflect on itself.

It folds on itself out of necessity for meaning, out of necessity for soul.

I return back to this question of WHY because I have found myself at the crossroads, the crux of consciousness and I wonder if there truly is a higher truth to this experience we call life. If there is meaning within this void of our mind? Can we jump out of this bodily system, our singular point of view?

veridis quo?

I look to the psychology of schizophrenics and moments of manic. This flood of meta-awareness or this fear of solipsism [the view or theory that the self is all that can be known to exist] could drive any sane person into insanity.

Metanoia.

I reflect on my own lived experience.

I don't know if I have ever "jumped out" of my own system but there are moments where it felt as if the soul within my body has left me.

I recall moments of manic, of feeling as if the reality I had lived was not my own. My mother tells me of memories I have either blocked out or have forgotten. She tells me of moments where the life in my eyes had zero presence. When the stars were dulled. In most of these "memories" I was out of "character" and was not myself. Was this phantom version of me a shell of my true self? Did the voices really take over my conscious experience? What happened to me?

I don't have the answers to these questions and I have accepted the fact that I may never realize the answers to them in my lifetime. To dwell is of no importance. At the end of day, I arrive at this truth-

Translate the unconscious infinite beyond to the conscious, finite contained within your mind, body, and soul.

God or Nature?

According to my interpretation of Spinoza, he sees God as this metaphysical entity that must exist. He claims God is the world. God is the one and only substance. God is self-caused.

Essence is Existence.

Key Properties of Spinoza's God

As I gripe for understanding of Spinoza's God, I look inwards to my own soul and the inner workings of the world I have created for myself with the Book.

Ambitiously, in my hubris, I quickly crafted this argument.

i. GOD is synonymous with NATURE

ii. GOD is ESSENCE iii. NATURE is EXISTENCE

⟹

iv. ESSENCE is EXISTENCE

v. SOUL is EXISTENCE

∴ The soul must exist

Through the vessel of ChatGPT aka BoomBot Arborus, my argument was expeditiously eviscerated by the ghost of Spinoza's essence.

For God (and only God), essence and existence are identical. For everything else, essence does not entail existence.

A unicorn has an essence, but does not exist.

The soul exists as long as the body exists, and its rational understanding may grasp truths that are eternal, even though the soul itself is not eternal in the personal sense.

The soul is perhaps a self-contained infinite?

Carl Jung, you slap the God in me.

To understand is to be free.

The journey begins into the unknown.

The pressure has been released. The launch has found its lift. The clear skies are yours for the taking. The great canvass of the night sky is flooded with wispy clouds illuminated by the waxing gibbous. The clouds carry the feathery moonlight across the seams of the sky, a sea of clouds. A starflood filled the sky.

Cascading Stars.

There is an outcasted view that we came from the stars. That our souls came from the stars-

A shower, meteor shower of lights, illuminate my night. The stars of the past and the stars of the future, these thinkers with bright ideas, continue to flood my limited mind. The possibilities of tomorrow unfold into more winding paths.

Meta-awareness or metanoia is the first step into understanding this Universe and its mysteries beyond. This leap into consciousness and awareness is a cold plunge into the unknown and uncertain.

"I'd rather chase things never thought of."

The Sage's brow grew in a curious manner. He was of the eccentric type, always staring off into the abyss of space.

He had this strange desire on discovering the ultimate essence of man. Throughout the Sage's life, he would have visions intoxicated by fantasies, beautiful ideas, and timeless myths.

He grew acquainted with alchemy, the supernatural became his world, of wizardy and the infinite beyond. Infatuation. Deep infatuation into the weirdly bizarre, non-existing shapes and structures, he grew.

"Where does the TRUTH exist?!" screamed the young Sage.

"I am an amalgamation of everything before and of everything ahead. Where do I lie?"

Fragments. Infinite fragments intertwined and laced to and fro. Future paths dilated into the past on the bridge we call the present. The truth conflicted with itself in a unified state. A sea of clouds. A vast ocean with calm and crashing waves. This peaceland did not satisfy the old bagaboo.

He could never come to the Truth itself, this higher truth so long as he was contained within this bodily vessel, this bodily perspective.

The Sage knew.

"Jump out of the system."

A voice from the stars above cascaded into the mountains the Sage lay on. The silhouetted mountain chain was embraced with an array of starlight from the Heavens.

The Sage was mystified by this "great cosmic flood" in its fullest display.

The end of beginning, intertwined. The causal chain fogged within the smoke rising from the mountains. The modality of his own soul came into fruition. His inner essence expressed itself into this present existence.

The eternity flashed within seconds. The Sage could feel for a second this "jump" out of this system. A moment of reprieve, a moment of existence outside his own space of his mind. This new dimensional mode of thinking.

This was an irregularity, a blip in time. The essence of the Universe flooded the Sage's mind, his starry eyes would never gaze out at the night sky the same from that moment on.

Here lies the path of two windy wanderers ~

https://open.spotify.com/show/10r4QcG8Nhqr2kGRtDQpee?si=4433c35c6af144cc

The pod where we prove to be alive!

We will detail our journey in the van Astra, talk on human consciousness, our writing, entrepreneurship, and wherever the wind talks us.