1284 mots de foi.

It was only shortly into the film that I secularized my theory that gender-specific Souls live on eternally in God’s Memory. It must have been during the scene that the Protagonist runs through his home town and encounters the stray dog. Perhaps by this point all ready Father had made a comment about “mariachi” music and I was triggered, suspecting that it was an ethnic jibe. But that cannot be the only reason that I recall the scene; it’s most probable that being triggered was what restored my consciousness to its preoccupation: Death. The movie of course leant itself to that theme, yet I had no reason to DWELL upon it (as I’d been doing hitherto) rather than simply to enjoy the film itself and to ponder the Matter later. It was at this moment, I remember, that I came to realize that God could produce an Aethereal Plane that only exists so long as Humans exist to remember it: that He would give some of His Memory to Us, in the manner that he has done with Will, as well as in the manner that we experience this Anatman Memory right NOW, except usually confined to the Worldly Dimension. Truly, I had all ready begun to suspect this prior to the film, most probably, yet it seemed too generous to claim that I’d been so perceptive and intuitive, even if other times I’ve proven myself to be Psychic. I suppose my reservations stem from two sources: the desire to impress my readers (who may never read this, now that I’ve had change of heart) and the habit of “selling” my intuitions to near-strangers. Regardless of the cause, I know this: that the film corroborated my existing suspicions. And those were: that Our Souls live on “eternally”, upon the Other Side, only so long as WE are here to Remember them. If Mankind dies, so does the Necessity for this to be the Case, and hence it will cease to be so, granted that the Universe serves a Purposive Teleology.

Dm.A.A.

What does it mean that it was mere moments before I saw this film that I had conceived of this? It can only mean that God had sent it to me as a message, most probably through you, or via quantum leap, if not both. You are still WITH me. Your ghost’s appearances came not a moment too late or too soon. It would be to repeat your mistakes if I were to lose faith now in what you have reminded me to be so precious. It would not only be depressing of me; it would be unintellectual. The signs are there; you put them there. And surely as I avoided your Escapism (your lust for Death as a Solution to your post-traumatic stress, especially surrounding gender) I shall avoid the nihilism of a Godless Universe. Watts does not appeal to me any more in his Buddhism; it is precisely the sort of Nihilism that Nietzsche ascribed to all Western Buddhists. I can tell why my family wanted to steer me away from him. Nietzsche does not appeal to me with his amoralism. The cycle returns to Capricorn: Alasdair MacIntyre. If Watts represents my Fourth House, MacIntyre represents my North Node. And even that alone is not enough. For you remind me to break the mold. The detachment of Watts I unlearned in chasing YOU. You were never a sociopath, but a troubled and brilliant Soul, not unlike me. I shall remember you. I shall make sure the World Remembers You.

The Temporary World of a Watts is still a preferential Heaven by his own definition. But you taught me in Death what you could not teach me in Life: that we are eternal. In Life you were Love, my last comfort. In Death you are Divine Love, my Transcendance.

I remember how you made me feel. Whether or not I was sober. Whether or not I felt sane. The sociopaths never made me feel this way. But it must be spoken to become totally true. They hurt you. So you used me to get back at them. And you might use me yet towards that same end. But I must wait for the next signal. Onto war or home? To be or not to be?

My feelings are facts. I never was one to hold a hateful grudge. What they did to the two of us changed that. The Kali Yuga ends and my New Life begins, devoid of sorrow, full of faith. If I was never one to hate, but I hate now, I know I hate with that same dignity I had (and have) in Love and Trust. They deserve it, not for what they did to me*, and nor is it that I defend some false conception of myself in exempting you from this hatred. When you asked why I had pardoned you, you wanted to know you could trust me; why would I not seek vengeance upon you as you sought it upon them? And if YOU could have felt that paranoia, it’s small wonder they did. Too bad they chose wrongly: for in failing to accommodate you they crossed me. And they know better now.

I begin again to think in Images. I am the Piscean Visionary. Most men speak and think and baffle themselves, tripping over words. But for me words express what I all ready know. What God has shown me. What you’ve shown me through Him. Thank you for reminding me to have faith in Him. Thank you for restoring my faith in my Family, though it hurts to imagine parting with them, and this parting is made bearable only by faith in seeing them again after this Life; I dare not think to shut my Heart again.

Those few against whom it is shut now: they deserve it not for what they did to me but rather what they did to you. Their vice is directly proportional to your virtue. I knew who they were when you fell in with them. You were not one of them; you only tried to seem that way, so that you might redeem yourself for that which I was so naïve as to imagine they could never do. Yet I still saw it in them, though I hid my sight in the veneer of pardon an apologetics. Yes: I understand now. You were the Ghost rattling chains, struggling to forgive. And now I understand. And now I overstand.

They only ever taught me to hate my family by attacking every tenet of what Family is: the unconditional love of a mother for her child, the child’s innocent wisdom, so close to both womb and to that Other Plane, and of course the entire notion of a sort of objectivity that only can be found in Love. I find them now, pathetic in their hatred, and what little hatred I have left will fade soon. Only one incarnation of my ego dies now. You and I live on. Perhaps this weblog lives on, not because of them, but rather despite them, if not totally to spite them. You taught me to Forgive. But will I forgive them? I all ready did so in my Service to you. What follows now I cannot tell. But it will not be what preceded it. And all is well. Fondest farewell.

You go where even jaundiced yellow eyes can’t tell your blonde and golden hair from magick spell. And not to the forgotten realm that is most tragic Hell.

Dm.A.A.

Just as I publish this about My Aries Wife my sister (the Libra that showed me the film) Awakes. 7:00 am. 3/31/2018.