the soul's infinite struggle

dear friends,

I had a very strange encounter with a faceless stranger named {Author} on X this past week.

{Author} seemed to know my writing and creative work well — I was taken aback and felt very seen by this random stranger of the Internet. In a very cryptic roundabout manner, {Author} made the claim that I was just another bot and accused me of plagiarism, yet recognized my creative flair and style…

This encounter saddened and flattered me in such a convoluted way, it led me to truly reflect on this writing journey of mine. Do I really sound like a Bot?

What makes a Story Timeless?

How are we to differentiate from Man to Bot?

I am grateful for this interaction, I know the normal response would be to anger or to fear — but I wasn't stirred to this way. I was more curious and perhaps my curiosity got the best of me in this duel of words.

Regardless, the Book progresses onwards.

We are moving through the Scrutiny process and we are nearing the end of the Second Pass. A Full Moon appeared last night of April 12th, 2025. I could feel the strong presence of the Stellar Stars…

Have I lost the Plot? — Where am I going with this?

— What is the point of this Story?

~ T-MINUS 167 DAYS ~

As I returned to the infinite trap of the mind: live life letter 007 - quantum consciousness these four questions arose again:

• Is the Mind Infinite?

• Is the Universe Infinite?

• Quantum Consciousness?

• Are we capable of going beyond our Own Mind?

To answer shortly, Consciousness is a Strange Loop. Open and Closed. The Chicken and the Egg. Harmony and Disharmony. There's a Price to Pay when Exploring the Depths of your Own Mind.

I am a Drifter, a Wandering Spirit. I am hesitant to define what Consciousness is as this experience of Consciousness itself could be non-algorithmic and illogical. We are limited to the words and language we speak.

How can one express 4th Dimensional thought and beyond?

your friend(ly)

jakester

Immersive Music Choice

the infinite regress of the mind paralyzes the soul

as philosophers, we wonder what serves as the foundational bedrock of our understanding, of our consciousness?

to endlessly question with no end in sight makes the struggle itself feel worthless.

veridis quo: where are you going? → to what end? → to what purpose?

You slip into Perpetual Doubt; your Mind continues spinning and spiraling and spinning and spiraling —

You can't make it stop. The Mind Flux begins to swell your Brain, the Pain is immense. You cannot conceive to Infinity, this struggle is overwhelming.

You want to know where this Road leads you. The fog ahead is dense. You seek peace and clarity, to clear the chaos in your mind.

The waves keep crashing.

…

Dreams go on Forever.

There you are wandering, drifting between Dreams. You feel your Mind waking before your Body, trying to recollect the Memories of the Dream before.

Did you awake to another Dream?

The room was cold, a brisk spring morning. You could feel yourself forgetting, the bridge being burned behind you as you continue drifting ahead. As you walk, a new bridge is formed.

You are in-between two worlds — would you consider this world it's own?

You can feel yourself forgetting the Dream, you cannot navigate. Time moves strangely in this dreamscape of ours. You accomplished many things in that Dream.

Your hand wants to move, but you cannot pick up that pen. Slipping in and out. Consciously awake within the unconscious. Your body continues to sleep. This infinite game is an infinite game, yet you feel the constraints of the finite frame.

Is this a Regression of the Pure Forms, of 4th dimensional thought?

The Ghost of Memory, of what was, continues to haunt you.

Regression is at times necessary for us to raise our meta-awareness, to gain a new perspective, to transcend the times itself. It is less of what you are willing to do and more of what you are willing to sacrifice—

When you regress down into the Void, the deconstruct of the Mind, you inherently sacrifice parts of your sanity.

be what is necessary.

keep writing your fictitious stories… will you live up to the story you tell yourself?

the vagabond drifter drifting away

For Everything and Nothing.

The [De] Construct of the Meta-Mind and Soul, the Essence of Consciousness unfolding folding in.

I live to tell the Tale; I will set sail to no avail, to break the veil. I seek to serve, to help others amidst the chaos, the bloom of the cosmos.

Ad Astra Per Aspera.

Hardships and Sacrifice, we come from the Stars.

To Imagine Before Birth and After Death is Pulp Fiction, Pure Fiction.

Yet, we can still Imagine a Time Before we were Born and After we have Died in our Mind's Eye. We can feel it in Our Hearts, Our Souls through the Flow of Life.

What is this Resonance?

This Depthness, this longing — it calls me.

The Thread that pulls. The Crisis, the Schism, the Abyss, the Void.

Don't lose the Plot of your Story! Hold onto that String, my friend.

~ ~ ~ + ~ ~ ~ + ~ ~ ~

I wandered.

I stumbled into the Cave.

The Cave I knew well, I graciously fell into. The Darkness welcomed me, hugging my Essence, they tie.

I comeback to this Cave, the Forgotten Place, to rediscover what I lost. What am I missing?

The Cave must have it, but the Cave hungers for more. The Walls around me grew unfamiliar.

"Where are you taking me?"

I detest, trying to hide my grimace.

I could not contain my grimace, the grimmicks mimics my inner grevels — like little gremlins picking away at every crevice of my skin, crawled.

"Speak to me, my Soul."

Was this Voice your own?

The Cave beckons and hollows. You lose all your senses. You feel the vacuum of silence growing stronger, gnawing away your life force. You lose all sense of self.

The Precipice Before Birth, the Draw After Death?

To run forwards and backwards in one moment, one single moment.

You Oscillate. You Observe.

You try to shake this feeling, this depthness, this binding. You bide your Time, waiting for the Space to Transform.

You wander.

~ ~ ~ + ~ ~ ~ + ~ ~ ~

The Intellectual Quicksand continues to quicken.

You pride yourself at the knowledge you possess. This quicksand you stand on is amusing but frustrates you deeply. It's humorous, depressing, and refreshing to feel the Flow of Time beneath you.

You realize Knowledge and Wisdom share the same Love but are not the same. There is Pride in Intelligence. There is Love in Wisdom.

You drift away in the Spiral of Time.

There are domains of Human Understanding that inherently lie outside the reach of our own system of thinking. There are elements of human life and thought that defy complete formalization.

the story collapse - viii. 第八部分

Charlie awakes, the Ship flying on autopilot. The space ship knows where to go.

He looks towards Mimi, his co-pilot of this journey. She had transformed into a Cat, curled up in a small little ball in the corner of the cockpit.

Charlie was envious. he too wished he could shape-shift. A Man can Dream…

A sudden whisper was heard from the dark corridor towards the payload behind them. The hairs of the Charlie's arms and back stood high, his blood went cold.

"Schrödinger's Cat."

Charlie questioned his own sanity. He could feel the fear freezing over his body, his heart pouncing out of his body. It took all his willpower to look around through the darkness, to observe his surroundings.

"Schrödinger's Cat."

Again, the whisper slipped its scent throughout the room, though not enough to alarm Mimi.

The frequency of the whisper grew. "Schrödinger's Cat. Schrödinger's Cat. Schrödinger's Cat. Schröding—"

It faded down the corridor. Charlie followed tenderly. The whisper called to him. Could it hear his thoughts?

"Charlie."

The Whisper became a Voice. The Voice echoed in Charlie's Mind…

"Walk the Path."

Fog began to fill the corridor. Charlie's Mind began to scream, trapped within itself. His lips could not form the words…

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

The sounds of flowing water begins to spill into the room.

The Path turned to dirt. The computered hallways turned to dark brush. The dim white overhead light became a yellowed moonlit sky with bright stars twinkling the night.

You cannot help but stare at the Full Moon.

"You are a Drifter, a Wanderer, roaming across land."

The Voice began to melt with the sounds of nature into the stream of water flowing near the Path. A slight rustle was heard in the Trees above…

the limits of knowledge and philosophy

As we enter the Gateless Gate, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. There are certain things logic cannot give you, use your intuition my friend.

The many great thinkers of the past from Zen Master Mumon to Italian mathematician Leonardo "Fibonacci" Bonacci have made many great attempts into understanding the natural truths of the Universe.

As a collective, we have made many great strides towards understanding the world around us and understanding our own consciousness. Yet, we still face many timeless barriers that continue to arise in the everflow of life.

The world is not as black and white as we think. We bleed our subjective experience into the objective truth of the Universe. We bleed our dreams into the reality of the world we find ourselves. We bleed our pains of the past and create a new future that has been stained in our minds and in our souls.

How can we ever hope to systematize such a messy thread of blood, sweat, and tears in this infinite game we call consciousness?

I will give you a hint: we can't.

As human beings, we constantly fall short of "perfection" and miss the mark of our ideals, of a dream world.

i. We cannot enact a perfectly moral system that captures the "good" in human consciousness in all situations, in all governance, in all societies.

ii. We cannot fit the soul of art into a mold we call "the algorithm" to perfectly capture the essence of what it means to be human.

iii. We cannot process the words or languages that perfectly syncs up to the speed and complexity of our spinning, spiraling, web of thoughts.

If we could, would it be human?

A Dot becomes a Circle. A Circle becomes a Sphere. A Sphere becomes a Hypersphere. A Hypersphere becomes [???]

the reflective sphere of the soul

All interconnected, we find ourselves, caught in a dream.

We live for the future, recollecting the past, the pains that resonate. Never knowing where we are going, slipping through our fingers, we grasp.

We want to slow it down, the waves that keep crashing, the moments that pass. But as soon as you reach out, a new presence emerges, in observance, the river flows.

I have to keep Faith in the Sea of my Dreams. The Everflow of Life sings to me.

I dream in the Day, Daydream— I fell asleep amid the Flowers… on this beautiful day. You are beauty, fool. The Enemy is Time. In the Desert, you can't remember your name.

I dream of Dawn. At Dawn, my Dream calls me. My Dream arises.

The Spiral follows. Time dilates. I awake.

What?! What is Real? The Spiral continues.

What is the Way that I seek? What do I pursue?

You haunt me. This is a mess. You make a mess out of me. I want to fly. I love you. I don't know what comes next. Caught in Indra's Net.

…

"Pick up the Staff"

Master stares at you with condescending eyes. This is not the Way, you thought to yourself.

"Pick it up."

You grudgingly pick up the Staff, forgetting the recent transgression of the past. You force yourself to forget, you numb the pain.

"Again."

You swing, pain flowing throughout your body.

"Again."

The swelling of your left foot invades your nerves — grating in every motion.

"Again."

You wince.

"Again."

You faint.

This is the Way. You lay in the flowerbed-

…

The Feather Flows in the Wind.

A Feather in Air, drifting away.

Displaced amongst the waves, I found myself in this strange land.

What am I doing here?

I don't belong here. Yet, each day, this land calls me. The nature sings to my soul.

Keep drifting. Keep wandering.

You kindred spirit.

This is the Journey.

<3 to the Stars above.