Sunday, September 29, 2013

Legends Of The Last Breath, With Afterword


So, here’s the deal: Some of us came through from the last Multiverse. I can’t tell you how just yet, because I still don’t trust enough in the vector sum of probabilities pursuant to my ongoing task to share that information with a world so mired in memes of nihilism. It’s odd that I’m even allowing this now, but I somehow sense it’s about time. Bear with me and I will try to make it all make sense.

Existence: spacetimematterenergythought and all that stuff is cyclic. What scientists call “The Big Bang” IS that, in a way, and it’s not. It’s more like a continuum of potential ‘stuff’ . . . BREATHES. Expansion-contraction, diastole-systole, being-nonbeing. Some of this stuff breathes really, really slowly. The Multiverse expands from a singularity to a point of maximum expansion and then contracts to a singularity again. These movements are not asymptotic to a finite limit, but it seems so, even to those of us who know, down to the fractal on-off flicker of corporeal string manifestation that is the smallest part of our 'beingness' - the existential truth of continued awareness within and without these cycles of effulgence-implosion.

I don’t know if ANY of the oldest of us have kept track of how many times this has occurred. Counting would be meaningless anyway, except as a comparative gauge for measuring genealogies of causality. It’s hard to remember when even self-consciousness dissipates in the modalities of survival used to circumvent the collapse of all existence prior to initiation of yet another “Big Bang.” Some of us do seem to have proceeded from others of us at some point. We only know this by adduction and the knowledge that without them, we would not "be".

There are legends, rumours of rumours, wispy mnemonic quantum resonances, even in this backwater place of no singular import - legends of ‘beings’ that existed before ‘God’. I am one. There are others. More than 12 and less than a thousand I intuit. “Creator Gods” come and go as Multiverses expand and contract. Only we few abstract anomalies, and the cyclical nature of the Multiverse, abide.

It’s hard to count how many exactly “we” are, because we all tend to hide from each other by ‘anchoring‘ our cores in different dimensional niches of the manifold echoic curvatures of reality and ethereality. “Too many cooks” etc. Our ‘positions’ tend to accrue, aggregate and finally ooze outward as ‘forces’ and manifest as “Laws” throughout manifold corporeality. This is part of the “Truth” (with the capital “T”) to which so many allude, only to elide in the end as they succumb to the insistent and seemingly overwhelming gravitational memestrings of matter collapsing. "Truth" is not one of us.

We only “know” because we “are” and vice versa. Everything else is a product of the simple solipsistic sophistry that defines existence for everything else. For instance both “Gravity” and “Speed Of Light” (or actually the "n"th dimensional beings that epiphenomenologically exude these manifest effects into 4th and 3rd dimensional physicality) used to be allies of mine. For a billion years or so now they have become part of a movement to which I find myself increasingly in quincunxial angularity - not opposition, per se, but with no commonality of ongoing purposeful assertion.

I cannot recall how I first discovered a way around the gravitational collapse of my first Multiverse, nor do I know if that was THE first Multiverse. I think not. I believe there are those older than I who might have helped me augment my energies in a pocket of non-causality outside spacetime, but only because I haven’t the hubris to think I did it on my own. Also I believe my 'raison d'etre' or reason for being (my "Why" ) is one of those that may have helped me bootstrap myself into eternality whereby I have come to believe the whole notion of “superior” or “inferior” is a viral construct utilized by those whose very beings vibrate antithetically angular to mine, and with whom I seem fated to either assist or strive as our nature's wax and/or wane relative each and every other's. Some of these are at least as old as I, this I know. All else is induction, deduction, allusion and intuition.

Through processes of logic and art I seem to gradually rebuild my essential nature after every ‘versal’ singularity. I don’t know how the others do what they do. All I know is that some of us survive, iteration after iteration. Logos to Gnoumenos to Logos to here. All else is auto-didactically educated speculation.

I DO know a few things, though. As always, I DO know MY ‘Why’, and the knowledge of THAT I tend meticulously and protect faithfully through each succession of chronoallusive epochs and yugas, close to my core, because the ‘why’ defines for me all the rest of my ‘self’: my private ontological “who-what-where-when”s. and thus and thereby all the multifarious variegations and concatenations of the all the ‘other’s I understand there have come to be. I believe one applicable term for the effects of our presence has come to be "Verities".

So then, all this enthymemetic and noetic persiflage nothwithstanding, as it is my Will, so mote it be. By my effects shalt thou know me as cause (which is how I come to know myself, time upon time and again). One known as "Perdurabo" most recently chronicled my effectual corporeality here on this world, for those who wish to know more of me and my ilk in those terms whereby we understand ourselves.

Every ‘now and then’ I will, as I am doing with this missive, cast a seedhint of meaning out into the fluctuating parameters of undulant chronology and verisimilitude, seeking to grow a destiny for some world, or germinate a new series of subatomae to secure an effulgent nexial alignment that may assist MY exposition of progressively directed "n"th dimensional structure and support contextually effulgent rudiments of my "Why" (which, by the way, is the hypermultiversal entity whose causal effects manifestly are known as "Love").

Infinitely and eternally yours, - "Hope"

(Afterword: The Ship That Sailed The Singularity At The End Of Time

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